‘NEW
YEAR, NEW HOPE... NEW CLINIC’Thank God it’s New Year. I hated Halloween. I could not stand fireworks being set off indiscriminately by kids and, to my horror, even adults. People like us need cool surroundings and a stress-free environment, not panic attacks. I literally had to hide behind some old woman’s Motability scooter along Lavender Hill just to escape the blasts.
Christmas and New Year is a time for more measured reflection on living with HIV/Aids. The newly-diagnosed ask, with a sense of hopelessness and no sure light at the end of the tunnel: “Will this be my last Christmas?”
Those that have been on treatment and coping well ask: “Have I been cured?” People coping well with treatment and feeling really good start to feel over-confident. That’s when non-adherence to treatment and a careless lifestyle creeps in. In those circumstances it’s vital to look back where you were before treatment and ask yourself why you had to start it.
Christmas and New Year also brings renewed hope to all who have had a bad time in 2003. An improved quality of life, getting a job after being bedridden, furthering your education, volunteering, finding a soulmate or partner, even having children - all is possible in a New Year.
Christmas and New Year also brings renewed hope to all who have had a bad time in 2003. An improved quality of life, getting a job after being bedridden, furthering your education, volunteering, finding a soulmate or partner, even having children - all is possible in a New Year.
Dispersal is all about isolation: isolation from your community, isolation from your HIV support group, isolation from your ‘new family’ you have found in London. Very often the only place dispersed people with HIV encounter each other in their New City is at the clinic.
And yet it’s shocking, sad and sometimes funny, the way people conduct themselves in the HIV clinic. “Cool surroundings and a stress free environment?” Not at all. People don’t speak at all in the clinic, even people sitting next to each other. If you happen to visit the toilet and your ticket number flashes, people won’t even tell you. They just don’t wanna talk at all, no sir.
This
is very unfortunate as we lose out on other people’s very important experiences
and knowledge. If one little bit of all the fellowship I’ve seen exhibited
at support groups could be practised in the HIV clinics, the atmosphere would
be fantastic.
Even when sat next to a pretty ‘chick’ in the clinic, as an African man I feel duty-bound to at least greet her, but I’m scared of the way people stare. You would think they are about to call the Old Bill on you!
We are people in the same situation and when we are in the clinic we certainly know our scores (HIV positive status), so there is no need to feel anything other than relaxed with each other. This also helps when you go in to see your doctor.
Many times we people go in and then completely forget to tell or explain everything to the consultant and afterwards blame him or her that “s/he didn’t give me the chance to express myself”.
Before a boxer enters the ring, he is always advised by his corner team to just relax so as to be focused. This should also happen to us before doing blood tests or seeing the doctor, instead of continuously reading the newspaper - or Positive Nation (take it home!) All the many years I have visited different clinics the atmosphere is the same. I just pray that this year brings a happy New Year in the HIV clinics around the land. A culture of relaxation and a sense of freedom.
I really would like to thank staff throughout the UK’s clinics for quality care they had provided to us in the year 2003 particularly those nurses at Chelsea & Westminster. BHIVA should also be applauded for the care standards they have instituted for our benefit. To all staff I say continue being patient with those for whom it’s not easy to cope with the situation.
Lastly, this column in dedicated to Elias Phiri. Good luck at the THT, Elias.......nkhunzi!
