This morning I woke up really early and made my way down to the clinic. No drips, bumps, rashes or legions or scares this time. It's just been a while since my last real relationship, I'd been having sex here and there since then, certainly not as often, everything safe of course and I just figured it's about time I get tested again. It's been a while and it's just good to know. I'm entering a new phase in my life where I'm learning the value of intimacy over random sex and I'd feel better knowing I'm entering this less sexual phase in my life totally safe. I wanna be able to say with confidence to the next man I lay with that I'm negative.
I arrived bright and early, waiting outside five minutes before they opened. I figured that I'd come early to avoid the crowds because if you come too late you will be here all day, like the DMV or something. Unlike times past I felt confident about this test. Sure I did the usual oh-Lord-Jesus-please-don't-let-this-test-come-back-positive bargaining with God as I left my house, as I walked to the train station, on the train, when I first got to the clinic, and right before I started typing this blog post on my Blackberry now as I wait for my results. I listened to gospel music all the way here to soothe my nerves. Even with all that I'm still not as worried this time as I have been in times past. I remember that one time I got tested I promised the Lord that if it came out negative that "I'd never touch another man again." God is such a good God, not only is he loving and faithful, he even knows when to ignore his children.
When I first walked in about an hour and a half ago I was the only person here. I was called into the office and spoke with the registration person. To keep everything confidential (You have the choice to give or not give your name. I gave mine because I wanted my results on paper.) from then on I'd be identified around the office by a letter or a number. Fittingly, I was given the number one. I gave a urine sample to be tested for gonorrhea and hepatitis as well. Since I was there I wanted the works.
Slowly but surely more people started trickling in. People of all ages coming into the registration office as men and women and leaving as letters and numbers. Looking around I began to think that I could have easily seen one of these people out on the street or maybe at a club. There was a beautiful girl about my age sitting across from me. My mind began to wander thinking of what circumstances could have brought her here this morning. And then there was a young man, decent looking, a hood dude. I could tell he was straight, the kinda straight dude that would probably beat you down if you said he was gay. He was going to see the doctor. Lord knows I've been there. We all looked at each other, exchanging glances every so often, probably thinking all the same things. All while the television, mounted in the top left corner of the room looped HIV/AIDS PSAs in English and then en Espanol over and over again. Every ten minutes Whoopi Goldberg, Susan Sarandon and Rosie Perez explained why it's not cool for gay men to do crystal meth and the joys of condom use in between terribly acted scenes played by amateur actors pretending to visit the clinic.
After waiting about 40 minutes I was called into the counselor's office. He asked me about my sexual history, how many partners I'd been with in the past three months, whether I was gay or straight, whether I had sex for money or drugs, whether I'd done anything unsafe, etc. He even asked me what I thought the test result was gonna be. I told him negative. He was just so nonchalant about it all as though he were reading these questions from a hidden teleprompter. He didn't even look at me hardly. I mean, hey, he deals with this everyday, I guess he's probably used to it by now. I'm used to the customers at my job. The guests at the hotel don't bother me much, their sobbiest of travel sob stories do little to move me anymore, oh the airline lost my bag, oh my dinner reservation, it's whatever. I've heard it all before. People forget that even though these people are HIV counselors, it's still their job, it's a job. I really couldn't expect him to fall out on the floor if God forbid my test came back positive. I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time he's seen a positive result, nor would it be the last.
The most earnest question he asked me though was if my test came back positive would I be able to handle it? He actually looked at me for that one. I told him yes. I mean, I'm sure I could. It isn't the end of the world, right? I have friends and people I know people who are positive. They are living happy and healthy lives, taking care of themselves, still going out, still dating, some don't even take any medicine. If I were positive I know I'd be okay like that, right? I guess that's all easy to say until you're actually the one that's positive.
A few minutes later I was called in to take my test. I joked around with the nurse about how I hate getting my blood taken and how I'm never able to watch it go up the needle and fill the little vial. She tapped my arm and easily found a vein. As I turned away and readied my body for the prick of the needle it was already in. It didn't even hurt like it usually does. I even watched the blood fill the vial this time. It was no big deal. Then I took the OraSure test. That's the one where they test your mouth for HIV. It only takes about 30 minutes to get a result. Then I was sent back to the waiting room, awaiting my fate.
As I walked back in here just now I'm the center of attention, Hood Dude and Beautiful Girl both looking at me as well as all the new numbers and letters that have now filled the waiting room. The bandage on my arm pretty much tells my story. I felt like they were waiting for my results just as anxiously as I was. To ease the tension I took my phone out to began typing this and I thought a little prayer "Lord Jesus pleeeeease let this thing come back negative." and here I am.
"Number one" my counselor called out from across the hall. This is it. I nervously followed him to his tiny office and before I could sit down in the chair he said dryly "Negative, keep it that way." Alrighty then, thank you Jesus. I straightened up, fixed my clothes and left his office. As I got back to the hallway and waited for the elevator I saw Hood Boy, Beautiful Girl and the whole alphabet staring at me, craning their necks so they could see me through the waiting room doors, trying to read my face. I wanted to do a two handed thumbs up but I thought that that might be too much so I just smiled with my eyes like Tyra Banks always says to do. I think they got the point.
I'm negative, and I plan to keep it that way.
GET TESTED!
Links:
- New York City free HIV/STD testing clinic locations
- Find an HIV/STD testing site anywhere in the United States here
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Playing In The Background...
"Gotta Get It Right"
by Spiritual Pieces
from the album "Soul Food"
and
"Grateful"
by Kurt Carr & the Kurt Carr Singers
from the album "No One Else"
and
"That's Just The Way The Father Is"
by Kurt Carr & the Kurt Carr Singers
from the album "Awesome Wonder"
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Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
