Wezi
Thamm Rule of Thamm
BURDENSOF A POZ GLOBE-TROTTER
I faintly recall a time when, if I felt the tug of far off exotic
places, or the itch to take off to a distant country with an exciting name,
how easy it was to go. You got the fare, packed the bag, booked the ticket
and applied for the visa if you needed one. It was really that simple.
Ok, sometimes you were a little apprehensive about not speaking the language
but that was usually it. And being young I would take risks I wouldn’t
dare today.
But globe-trotting after an HIV diagnosis is an altogether different story
and often a lot less fun and spontaneous. True, these days the whole world
is on the move more than ever. Borders shift, change, open, close, and travel
is quicker and sometimes cheaper, but not always easier. I now view the world
in three segments: those places an HIV positive person is welcome (getting
fewer in number), those where we can go and those where we cannot.
Today, travel makes me apprehensive: I have to pick my destination by checking
a country’s HIV policy for visitors online. People who travel often
return with tales of gruelling and horrifying experiences in supposedly tolerant
countries. You hear of flights diverted just to throw off an HIV positive
person or of people being sent back on the same flight.
Then there are all these bits of paper you fill out mid-air asking intrusive
questions about you and your personal life, just because you want to holiday
in a different climate or culture. But that’s only the half of it.
Vaccinations used to straightforward; they were there to protect you. But
all that changed with my diagnosis. Now they are no longer automatically protectors
but have the potential to kill me. What most frightens me are the countries
that may vaccinate you by force if you arrive at the airport or theirs borders
without the necessary jab listed in your little yellow book. 
That’s not to mention worries about super-bugs and mutating flu viruses
and how they would affect a person with HIV. Then there is all the worry about
how to smuggle or disguise your meds so they will not be identified at first
look; and that you’re are taking enough in the event of a hurricane
or flash flood. You pack some more, but how much more? Too much and customs
officers think you’re smuggling them to sell. So you get a letter from
your consultant naming the drugs and that they are for you and you are justified
in travelling with them.
Then there’s all the other ‘just in case’ stuff you need:
something for the runs - inevitable with change of diet; painkillers and antibiotics
just in case; repellents to keep away the insects; water steriliser and disinfectant.
When your toilet bag is packed then you agonise how much medication to put
in your hand luggage, just in case your other luggage arrives late. Oh and
not to forget insurance. There was a time you could not get travel insurance
if you were HIV positive, but I am happy to say things have improved.
People still ask why I wear a wristwatch with two faces. I decided from the
early days that no matter where I travelled I could not be bothered to calculate
when to take my meds. It is so much simpler to leave one watch face on GMT
and change the other to the time at my destination. This means I still take
my meds at the usual time, though sometimes at very awkward hours. But hey,
that’s part of the excitement of being a member of the jet set.
The truth is even these many hurdles and hassles are not enough to put me
off my globe trotting and neither should they deter you.
