PSA: HIV Positive

Hello World,
How is everyone. Today I want to share with you a story about my pregnancy 18 years ago. Until recently, I had not shared this story with anyone except my Mom because she understood the craziness that lives in my brain (and because they had to call her so I would not be admitted to the psyche ward)


When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was 19 going on 20. I did not realize I was pregnant because I have a 2-3 day flow (TMI, sorry, but I have to explain my naivety) and I was having a normal period, BUT my nails were growing, (a miracle In itself because I am a nail biter!) I was nauseous and irritable and my AA cups were starting to swell to an impressive C cup, so I went to the doctor and I was 4 months pregnant!! So dumb, I know

18 years ago, prenatal care was handled a little differently. I had an OBGYN but my health care from my job had me go to a clinic at the hospital where I would deliver and I would see a nurse practitioner for my regular check ups and my regular OBGYN for the internal exams and so forth. Initially, you would go to the clinic once a month in the fist trimester, then about every 3 weeks in the second, and in your last 5-6 weeks, you would go to the clinic every week, unless you had complications, then you had an individual plan. Now I had missed the entire first trimester of my prenatal care so I had to go in for a series of appointments back to back. I needed to see a nutritionist, a dietitian, the family planning counselor, and a litany of other proactive prenatal services that I had missed.

Now remember, this was in 1995 so HIV and AIDS was only about 10-15 years in awareness yet the clinic would do an HIV test early on so that the mother (parents) could decide on what course of action to take if they were in fact HIV positive. After your test, you would see a counselor and if you were positive, you could terminate, try the in vitro drugs that were relatively new that were purported to keep the baby from contracting the disease, or whatever decision you wanted to make.

SO I went to the clinic with a referral from my OB and saw my nurse. Every time you go, you would see a different nurse, whomever was on shift, and on my first appointment, I saw this pasty skinned nurse named Nurse Charmaine. She was White and very efficient, but TOO efficient; like she had no empathy or sympathy for the pregnant woman at all and those who know me know I was traumatized during my pregnancy from the day I found out. She did my check up and I was nearly 20 weeks along! I had gained nearly 16 pounds which is a lot I gathered due to her smart aleck comment. She told me I was 'too fat'. Now, I felt like that was very insensitive and highly provocative being that she was FAT as hell without being pregnant and because she said it with a huge dose of venom like she WANTED me to feel bad about it. I didn't even have a stomach! My stomach was still flat as a board; it was just a little hard, and I did have a noticeable bit of flab on my thighs and butt, as well as these huge breasts that just kept running through the bra sizes. ( I went from a C to a D in like a week, mind you, I had always been a solid AA or B my entire breast life~like from age 16 when I actually formed what resembled breasts) So I was already very sensitive and on the brink of high dramatic anxiety break down from these changes so for her to nastily say, YOU"RE TOO FAT, she just opened the floodgates of tears and indignation and I went in, but of course. It was kind of like this...
Nurse Charmaine: "You are getting too fat"
ME: (I try to give stupid people a way out because they simply know not what is in store) "what?"
Nurse Charmaine: "I said you are getting too fat. You should gain a certain amount during the entire course of your pregnancy, and you already have gained about 70 percent of the totality..."
She did not get to finish her explanatory medical logic because she HAD repeated her insensitive and highly inflammatory comment, so she was primed for this cuss out...
ME: 'Are you seriously calling me fat and I am PREGNANT while your fat ass is carrying around like 40 extra pounds of FLESH with NO excuse!? What kind of sh*t is that, you fat bit&h!? I do NOT appreciate your choice of words OR the way you said it, like I eat because I am hungry and this BABY you SAY is in there wants to eat ALL day so how in the F am I supposed to NOT get FAT as you say, if I am breeding a whole other fricking PERSON in MY little body?? You big a## insensitive F ing WHALE woman, Get the F outta here, I want to see a DOCTOR, not no fake wanna be nurse stupid..."
This was said in a high decibel scream that brought reinforcements from the front desk, security, and the waiting room, who also advanced into the room in full tactical mode since I was in her face screaming this and pointing my long FAT finger inches from her face. I mean like, really. I was an emotional pregnant MESS and I was in full I wish a Nicca would mode DAILY and was just a smidgen relieved that a NICCA DID just so I could relieve some of the anxiety I was feeling ANYWAY.
So they calmed me down and escorted her out and another nurse; Nurse Hailey took over. I don't know if she was naturally nice or if she did not want the wrath to be directed at her but she wiped my tears, showed me how I had raised my blood pressure by going off like that and assured me that every woman was different, BUT we did need to try to control my weight a little better and of COURSE I was not fat...

VERY nice this nurse Hailey. She explained to me in dumb talk how the HIV test worked and she drew blood and told me that the results would take about 2 weeks and they were also screening for STDs and diabetes just to ensure I got all the proper care. She was also the one who explained to me that I needed to start right away on my vitamins and I would come back in a week to meet with the dietitian to get a diet setup that would help me control my weight gain better and in a healthier way. I took my referrals and my prescriptions and went about my day, making sure to roll my eyes and bob my head threateningly at Nurse Stupid on my way out. She was all the way understanding of the unspoken message that 1) my BITE was worse than my BARK and that BARK nearly did her in,  2) I was not one of these English as a second language chicks that allow people to talk to them any kind of way because they are just glad to be receiving medical attention, and 3) Her fat behind could never outrun the a$$ whooping she nearly got even with me pregnant, and I sure would see her after I dropped this load. I do speak 3 languages, English, Gestures, and a little Spanish...

I went to my next 2 appointments spread out over 3 weeks and caught up on all of my prenatal needs and tests. On my fourth visit, I met Nurse Barbara. She was a short Black woman who had to be like 75 years old and she was abrupt and rude. During my exam, she was rough and her hands were all hard and calloused as she poked and prodded. The last straw was when she put this belt on my stomach for who knows what and pinched my skin with the clasp. (please do not ask what she was doing. Back then the medical technology was like the Flintstones compared to now and I was more concerned with keeping my irritation in check than asking questions. I was trying REALLY hard to be calm, but she was doing too much and I was getting to that point AGAIN yall...) I yelped 'OUCH', and she snatched the belt off so hard I almost spun around; smacking her teeth in irritation AT ME!! Poor ole lady.
Me: WTF is wrong with you? You know my baby is in there right?! Why the hell are you snatching and pulling the s#it off like that!? Do you have any bedside manner??!!'
Obviously, I did not reach a high enough decibel nor did I pepper my anger with enough curses or maybe she was just an OG in this game and could take that little dose I dished out because she said
"O cut it out! That did not hurt you. If you would sit still and keep your mouth.."
Again, I felt like I had given her an out and she would have been wise to take it. I mean I thought old age brought about wisdom, but I guess not.
ME: "Look you old shriveled up pod, I don't know if you are MAD or jealous because you cannot conceive, but if you come near me with any type of instrument or even your gnarled rough paws Ima slap fire outta your old a$$! How about I poke your old fragile a@@ hard like that or snatch THIS (holding a medieval torture devise that resembled forceps above my head) up and ram it up your stupid ..."
Once again, another nurse had achieved the rank of on my Sh&t list and the reinforcements came running. I was also up in her face, but she was cowering on one side of the exam table while I was leaned over in my bra and 3x sweatpants ready to bust her forehead open with the forceps as they came to her rescue. (I mean seriously did she NOT get the memo? Old people get it too!!) My guardian Nurse Hailey removed me from the room and wiped my tears. I tried to calm down and tell her what was happening, but she just efficiently and NICELY finished my exam, showed me that rising blood pressure again, and assured me that from now on I would only come on the days she worked and would ONLY be seen by her when I needed to see a nurse. I thanked her and sat quietly as she told me I was cleared from all STDs and that I did not have diabetes. She said my weight was steady but I was still gaining. I told her I could not take the vitamins and would not because they constipated me and I could not be trying to push out a turd with a belly (this big stomach had started growing in the last 3 weeks and was well over the protruding stage so I don't know if yall know how hard it is to be constipated REGUALR, but with a big stomach, it is quite uncomfortable so I refused to take those damn vitamins. No thank you, no ma'am and besides, I was scared I would push the baby out as I tried to have a bowel movement and she was not ready yet, right?)  She sent me over to meet with the dietician again so I could get information on all the foods I needed to eat to get the right amount of natural vitamins for the baby's needs. As I left, it struck me that she had never brought up that HIV test...

All through my meeting with the nutritionist, and all the way home on the bus, I worried about the results of that test. I did not think I was at risk for HIV but all of a sudden, my treacherous brain and my wild imagination coupled with my questionable sanity set forth to convince me that my daughter's father was a piece of total doodoo and had gave me AIDS and they did not want to tell me because it was too late to abort or even start the drug regimen to keep the baby from getting it. My paranoia convinced me on the longest bus ride of my life that I was a walking time bomb and my poor little baby was infected and I was going to have to give birth in jail because I was going to kill him and a few other people. The problem is, I am a hypochondriac! If I think a nail is infected, I am at the doctor, or the emergency room! I have called the ER late at night to ask a medical question just to be sure, but in this case, I was so scared to find out. Not for ME, but because what could I do for my poor little baby inside of me that had no options!? From that point on, I was a mess, well more of a mess than I was due to the fact that my waist size was expanding, my stomach growled every 33 seconds, and my breasts were so big, I couldn't look down without my chin hitting them. I decided to look in my file the next time I went to the clinic and see for myself and then go from there.

The very next appointment was 2 weeks later and in that time, the tale of my HIV status had grew into a 450 page book in my brain; with several alternate endings. I couldn't tell anybody because I wasn't SURE, and I was afraid to tell anybody because I wasn't SURE, so I kept it all inside, killing myself in the process. I got to the clinic and checked in with Nurse Hailey, making sure to roll my eyes at the ole witch who scurried to the back as soon as she saw me. (I was internally stressed, but I had to make sure my enemies knew I was still gunning for them; even under fire, one MUST keep up their image) Nurse Hailey called me and we began my exam. She admonished me politely on my weight gain, (by now I was about 7 and 1/2 months along and had gained about 40 pounds! She asked if I was taking my vitamins to which I answered, 'some'-a lie, (I mean seriously, I'm gaining at the rate of like 5 pounds a fricking DAY and you want me to take vitamins TOO, I would explode) and we went over my delivery plan. Nurse Hailey excused herself, leaving me alone with my file. That manila folder mocked me from across the room and my fear gripped me in a vise that kept me rooted to the exam table for a full 5 minutes, but then my fighting spirit took over and I walked purposely over to the counter, after peeking out the door to make sure no one was coming. I flipped rapidly through the pages and finally came across a page that had HIV on it, I looked down breathlessly and was Homer Simpson DOOOFFMDED to discover that my name was a series of numbers and the line next to it was as well! Thwarted! Urrghhh. See, back then, HIV tests and results were encoded to protect identity due to the lack of education and understanding of the disease. This was to ensure that no one except myself and my doctor would know my status. But I would not know unless he actually TOLD me, which NO ONE HAD.

Now, I know what yall are thinking. Why didn't I just ASK? I can only explain what I was feeling at the time. I was afraid for my baby, I was afraid for the homicidal maniac that was surfacing to come out, and I was terrified that they KNEW but were afraid to tell me. I really cannot explain t any better. I was young, pregnant, and by my own doing, all alone in the total and convinced belief that I was HIV positive and was carrying an AIDS infected baby and would have to deal with THAT in less than 3 months so I was afraid to have to deal with KNOWING before then I guess. Nurse Hailey returned all smiling and cheerful. She asked if I was alright, and I answered out loud yes. Inside I screamed, NO B!tch!! How can you smile and be happy when I am dying; DYING and having a baby that doesn't have a chance!! Then I started thinking, THAT's why she's so NICE to me! She feels sorry for me!! THAT'S why they gave me my own personal nurse!! Oh my, all the clues were there!! I went home and just cried. I mean I cried everyday at least 5 -10 times anyway, but now the waterworks were just a constant state. I had a fitful night's rest and woke up feeling a little better. I spent some time in bed reading a few books on HIV and pamphlets on HIV and newborns I had secreted away under my bed. I finally had to succumb to the hunger pangs and got up to go brush my teeth. I stumbled into the bathroom and started brushing, praying that I would not throw up like I did every damn morning, afternoon and night. I rinsed once and just as I raised my head I caught a glimpse of my tongue in the mirror. It was completely coated with a white film, with like little pink dots on it!! I nearly fainted.

I ran to my room in a stumbling pregnant wobble of panic and flipped desperately through my educational pamphlets, finally coming across what I was looking for. It was a story of an HIV infected man who found out his status when he was at a dental checkup and the dentist noticed sores and spots in his mouth and on his tongue and suggested he get tested! OMG, This was it, I was starting to die!! I calmed down and set a plan in motion.

I called my family dentist and begged for an immediate appointment, telling them I was in excruciating pain and I was pregnant and my doctor told me to go see the dentist. They gave me an appointment for the next day. I rushed the day along, marking the time with about 66 meals and 33 bouts of crying and making my daughter's father's life miserable because I HATED him~secretly, of course. Every time I LOOKED at him, I saw a dirty nasty infected THING that had used his nasty penis to give me AND my baby a death sentence and I wanted him to just choke on the air and die so I would at least be able to spend my last days with my family and NOT in jail on death row after I murdered, stabbed, choked, shot, and stomped a MUD HOLE in his FACE for doing this to me. I just had to find the right opportunity to commit the crime... (My brain; my imagination people, is my cross to bear)

The next morning, I was giddy with relief as I dressed for my appointment. I didn't even care that my 4x sweatpants were tight across my huge butt or that I had to wear my slippers on the bus because my feet were so swollen. All the regular pregnancy complaints were so trivial compared to the SHINGLES I was convinced I had in my mouth and my HIV baby I had in my stomach!! I got to the dentist and went through the process, finally sinking into the chair as the dentist examined my teeth. I kept poking my tongue out so he could SEE the infection, and he just kept admonishing me to keep it out of the way. He finished up and took of his gloves. I braced myself for his words as he said, "Stacey, I see a few cavities, but I really cannot do anything since you are pregnant, I can't even do xrays. I think the pain is due to a lack of calcium so your body is drawing it from your teeth. Do you take your calcium pills?" I nodded because if I spoke I would burst into tears, and he continued. "I can give you some Tylenol, but just ask your doctor for a higher dose of the calcium and come see me after the baby is born and we will fill those cavities." He left the room. I was so depressed. Of course he SAW the HIV in my mouth (yes people, it was in my mouth!!) but he was such a good friend of the family that he didn't want to be the one to tell me to get tested. I was so low and down that I went to Sam's pizzeria and got a large pie with pepperoni to eat all by myself as I drowned in my sorrow. What else could I do? I was resigned to my fate. My poor sad future was coming fast. I mean the symptoms were starting, and every where I turned there was no help and no end in sight.

About a week or so later, I lifted myself out of my cloud of depression to go to my doctor's appointment. I was now more than 8 months pregnant. My daughter's stupid father dropped me off at the clinic, asking as he always did if I wanted him to come in with me. "NO!" I snapped, "I hate you, just go do something with yourself til I call you to come get me!" He obliged because he was well aware of my crazy capacity and had learned early on that even if he did not UNDERSTAND the attitude, just leave me to it. I went in and saw Nurse Hailey. She checked me in and almost immediately came to get me from the waiting room. She walked me past the exam rooms saying as we walked, 'You have to see the counselor for your HIV results honey. We never gave them to you. Sorry about that." I was speechless. Here was the moment of truth. I knew what they were going to say. I wanted to tell them to call my mom, call my friend or my cousin or someone, but another part of me didn't want anyone to know until I myself processed the reality of it. This entire time, even as I was CONVINCED I WAS, that one little percent of no one having actually TOLD me gave me a glimpse of hope, but as we approached that counseling office, all hopes were dashed and the tears and the anxiety just overtook me. I sat down limply and Nurse Hailey left me alone to wait for the counselor. She didn't notice my tears or she understood the bad news I was about to get and didn't want to be anywhere near it. Moments later, a man came in and sat in front of me. I barely looked up, and his face was buried in a file. He asked a series of questions that I answered mumbling and incoherently. Finally he got to the counseling part;
Him: Do you know what HIV and AIDS is?
ME: Yes
Him: Do you have support from family to help you make decisions in the case of a positive result?
Me: In full hysterics silently crying, Yes
Him: Did your doctor go over all the options available to you in the case of a positive result?
Me: I simply nodded since I was beyond words in my terror and grief.
Him: Ok, lets see... (I heard the rustle off paper as he flipped through my file) Well you are negative, so that's great and we...

W H A T? Did he just say I was NOT HIV positive after giving me a fricking 5 minute counseling session on what the F would I do if I WAS, and here I am thinking I AM for like 3 or 4 months and these stupid backwards, not following up medical staff KNEW all along! I jumped up and grabbed the file from him.
Me: WTF is WRONG with you people??!! I am NEGATIVE!!?? So why are you asking me all these dumb ass questions about POSITIVE? Let me SEEEEE where it says it! SHOW ME!! Like, save the fricking speech for the ones who ARE positive u A hole!
 I was screeching and flailing the pages of the file everywhere and I think I was alternately crying from relief and anger, but also laughing in glee and relief all of which MUST have looked like a full and complete mental break because the counselor escaped and returned with Nurse Hailey and several other people. I refused to be touched or calmed as I tried to explain the last 4 months which only came out as sounding like a mad hatter tale of imaginative incoherence as I was H Y S T E R I C A L and crying and knocking anything I saw onto the floor. Everyone backed out of the room except Nurse Hailey who tried to listen. She must have understood some of the story because she called my mom and told her to come to the clinic right away. By this time the staff had called the 4th floor (the crazy floor) and they had personnel outside with a stretcher and a straight jacket (seriously, I most likely did suffer a psychotic break for like 2 seconds. I mean c'mon people IMAGINE THAT STRESS and then it is juts dissipated in a SECOND!!) The one thing that saved me was the dilemma of how to get me safely onto the stretcher and strapped with this big belly. So they just stood by as I sat crying with Nurse Hailey. My blessed mother arrived within 20 minutes and they allowed her to come in with Nurse Hailey. I told her in as few words as possible what had happened and she went out and spoke with what I found out later was the psychiatrist (Oh Yes people, they were about to commit your girl!) They left after and my mom came back in with Nurse Hailey. I had calmed down considerably and I told her the story from the first realization until the counseling session. She smiled sympathetically and inhaled slowly when I finished before she responded. She explained that the white tongue was the result of a vitamin B deficiency that would be fine as long as I ate the foods my nutritionist told me were high in vitamin B. We all laughed lightly at my trip to the dentist (them lightly because they were obviously still questioning my mental state, even my poor mom) and she also apologized for a)not giving me my results and b)the stupid policy of having EVERYONE have to have a counseling session, whatever their status. She said that because of all the issues I had had with the nurses, that the fact that I had not gotten my results was a simple oversight, especially since it routinely occurs during the first trimester. I gladly accepted her apologies, just grateful to be walking out of there FREE and HIV NEGATIVE, thank you very much.

I stopped having homicidal thoughts about my daughter's father and started being a little nicer to him (not much, I mean he STILL had gotten me knocked up and despite my HIV trauma, I still had ALOT of other pregnancy issues that I totally blamed on him like fat, hungry, crying, sick, mad, fat; you get it) I thanked the heavens; for my mom, and for Nurse Hailey who was also there when I did deliver my perfectly healthy and beautiful baby a few weeks later. Since then, I have gotten an HIV test every 2 years, even though I engage in extremely safe sex.

I guess the moral of the story is two fold. On one hand, I guess you can say don't let any fear stop you from knowing what is happening to your body, but if that's the message you got, you have not been listening or you just do not know me well. On the other hand, the lesson could be that when you live in my world, you understand that your brain and your imagination has a totally different perception of what is happening than what REALLY is happening and you either can go crazy (or allow them to drive you crazy) or you can accept your self for who you are and embrace it, because even if it does take you on paths of near death and extreme situations, life is never boring, and it IS ALWAYS VERY, VERY entertaining!!!
Get tested boys and girls! (that's the PSA. lol)

~Cracey