I’ve been sick for the past 5 days (not HIV-sick coz that would be officially 3 years; or 8 years as my doctor hypothesized considering I even haven’t had sex at that age yet) and it was only today when I felt truly consumed by it. Feeling feverish even when the thermometer says otherwise and completely constipated which is death for the anal-retentive, I bought some anti-bacterial meds and Pocari Sweat (which by the way, taste like sweetened Baygon) – general prescription by the clueless company doctor.
I wonder if after numerous random consultations with doctors yield nada, I will then be a candidate for hospital confinement to run some tests. I wonder if I got a terrible, terrible disease that only the immune-deficient can acquire. Will the doctor run an ELISA to determine my positive-ness on which I would histrionically lament that I would rather die than discover my status. I mulled over being confined in RITM but then what would my family say? I live in the North for Pete’s sakes, can I say “uhmm, the air is better there and the people are nice?” – nope not buying that. Or I can just stow away in RI, letting the family know that I’m in some religious company retreat and that they can’t contact me just because.
Delirious in bed, I morbidly muse of how death is going to get me. I will first settle all my insurance debts for my family’s two million pesos (yey!) and funeral arrangements. I would then ask my sister to give my black box (ARVs under lock and code) to one poz friend for him to dispose of in any manner he wish (or he could use it, sayang kasi.)
And then there’s the question of confession. Should I disclose prior to death? Is it a sin to harbor it? I don’t want to be rumored to be the guy who supposedly died of LBM but is in fact HIV-positive (I’m actually more concerned of the LBM part because what would people say? That I never wash what I put in my mouth? Tut-tut) Plus even in death I’m still unwilling to be dethroned of my golden boy status. But then would heaven accept me despite this baggage?
So yeah my thoughts were a bit disjointed, a bit irrational and a bit paranoid. With my cerebral exhausted, I embraced bliss in the arms of sleep. Now I’m awake and a bit better. Damn waste of brain fluid.
"I can't die. It would ruin my image. "