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March 5, 2012: Paranoia at work…

Quite Positive - This is my life after the test came back.

Today started out pretty good — I will give it that. I got a full 8 hours of sleep last night and woke up feeling refreshed. I took my vitamins and ate breakfast about 6:00 A.M., and set off on my journey back to western Oklahoma for work.

I was feeling energetic, happy, and refreshed.

… until I walked into my office.

They Know

I forgot to mention in earlier posts that I actually did end up telling two of my coworkers about my HIV status. One was a 35-year-old female production supervisor, and the other is a male (straight) writer about my age.

I’m not stupid. I knew that at least one of them would go running their mouth to others in the office about what was wrong with me. Read more…

March 4, 2012: Recap of the past few weeks…

Quite Positive - This is my life after the test came back.

As of the day that I am writing this, it’s been more than a month since my HIV diagnosis, and around three weeks since my breakup with Tom.

Today has been a good day. It’s Saturday, and I find myself blogging from my parents’ house in Oklahoma City. As I have done each weekend for months now, I came up last night (Friday) and plan on staying until tomorrow morning (Monday) before driving back to western Oklahoma for work.

In my previous post, I left off at my breakup with Tom, my ex-boyfriend. Life since then has been hard, but it’s getting better.

A Psychological Disease

I’ve started realizing something: as dangerous and life-threatening as HIV itself may be, it’s a maintainable disease and I may in fact be physically healthy for decades to come.

Yet, what the MDs and HIV Specialists can never convey to you is the intense psychological impact of a HIV/AIDS diagnosis. Read more…

February 2012: Reality sets in…

Quite Positive - This is my life after the test came back.

On Wednesday, February 1, 2012, I was released from OU Medical Center in Oklahoma City and walked away a ‘free man’. I had been in the hospital for more than a week.

The sheer joy I felt as I walked through those sliding glass doors on the way to my mother’s car is absolutely indescribable. I kept thinking, “The nightmare is over.”

I was no longer sick — in fact, I felt better than I had in at least two months. I no longer had to wait for nurses to satisfy simple requests. There was no more waiting on news from doctors. I was in my element again. I was on my own and free to resume my independent life.

It may sound terribly cliche, but all I could really think about at the time was how much I was craving a greasy hamburger, huge order of french fries, and vanilla malt. Read more…