Another day, different doctor

I found the lab, bit room, one person in the whole place.  She calls me back after having checked me in. She says nothing to me, she pulls out fifteen tubes for blood.  I say really?  She says yes, the MD ordered a lot of tests. For what?  she doesn’t say.  I am happy i have insurance today.  She smiles at me and I leave.  three days later the MD calls.  My viral load is not high enough to do a genotype on, can I please bring my ex so that we can test him to make sure of the medication.  I ask him, he says no.  I dropped the prescription off at the special pharmacy that I have to use, they gave me a bottle of pills. I took them home and put them in a drawer.  I ask my ex why he being like this.  He starts talking about how he doesn’t like the way people are treated in this state that have HIV.. fucking hell, I am one of those people and you are not treating me well at the moment, none of this is treating me well. MD says on the phone that my viral load is low so that I am early conversion, my CD4 count is average.  I should take the medication.  I should die.. is all I can feel.. I started having night sweats, which really can happen anytime during the day.  I am sick to my tummy a lot, I am still crying. My ex says he is sorry.  He loves me and is worried.  He is not taking medication, hasn’t for two years, never started. Asked to go with him next time he goes to the doctor, he says he never paid his health insurance premium so he hasn’t gone in a while. A while? really.  great.  I remember my preceptorship training in the town south, they have an HIV specialty section.  MD that are trained to deal with the HIV, not ID doctors trained in every infectious disease, I call and set up a time to meet with one of them, my ex agrees to come along. First meeting comes, ex is still at work, I reschedule. Second meeting comes along, ex just leaving work.. I freak out. I am crying on the phone at him, I am screaming at him, I need his genotype so that I can take medication, I am lost at this, I can’t tell anyone of this, the only one I can talk to is my ex and he is being a shit. I call the clinic, they tell me to come on my own, that I need this.. I cry for the hour drive there. I am hysterical at this point, my ex is on the phone pleading with me, he loves me, calm down, he will be at the house when I get home, what do I want him to do?  I want him to grow the hell up and be a man that can keep his dick in his pants, that can protect the female that he loves and understand the meaning of adoration. What do I want him to do? I want him to die..I get to the clinic, I am buzzed into a conference room, two people there, one I remember from my training.  The are smiling, they are welcoming, they give me reading material, a magazine called Poz, hand out for nutrition where I learn my vitamin question wasn’t a stupid one, and a book that looks like fun. Half way through the conversation the door opens and in comes the MD on a motorized scooter.  Big happy smile.  He comes in and asks me how I am?  I don’t know the answer to that question.  He smiles and says it will be alright, then he says the most reassuring thing I have heard in six weeks “we will go through this with you” I cry.  He writes a list of things for me for lab, says to come back in a weeks time. We will talk more and longer. I thank him and he motors out.  Maybe ..


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