November 26, 2006
Its been a few weeks since I last posted my first Blog, and I think the busiest two weeks in my more than six years in South Africa.
Two weeks ago I was invited to attend a Dept of Health presentation which took place here in Montagu, in the beautiful Western Cape of South Africa. The news and information which was given to the 30 who attended, all of us working in medical or community service, was nothing less then startling. Dept of Health officials told us that South Africa was now ready to start supplying free Antiretrovirals (or ART for Antiretroviral Treatment) to any South Africans with a TCell count of 200 or less. There is no confusion in my mind about the reason for the Dept. of Health's radical and relatively silent change in policy. It has come about as a result of the acute national government embarassment prompted by Steven Lewis's comments at the World Aids Convention in Toronto a few months ago.
When I asked my friend Dr. Paul Spiller, Superintendent of both the Montagu and Robertson Hospitals who is also my personal doctor, and who was one of the Dept of Health presenters, whether there was enough stock in place, he said "Yes". I was stunned.
Because the South African government has been so obstinate and indeed obstructive of ART treatment reaching the people, and because the ramifications of our government policy have been so disastrous for the suffering of adults and children alike, I found that I was actually in shock. It was as though I couldn't believe it and anytime I thought about it in the following week, which was a lot, I knew I wasn't quite grasping it. How could this be true?
Why were the papers, the TV and radio not announcing this? We were being told something by the Dept of Health so dynamically radical as a change in policy, one simply couldn't grasp it. There has still not been an announcement in the papers, although I think I know why. Since Steven Lewis, the Head of UN Aids for Africa strongly spoke out against South Africa stating that the SA government policy on HIV Aids boarded on the fringes of lunacy, our Health Minister has been quietly reclused with the excuse she's been ill, in hospital at first, and then home recovering, from what no one knows. She, our Health Minister has been saying for years, "We have the best treatment policy and system in the world". What utter nonsense. This way, by not announcing the shift in the papers and press, rather only hinting at it with incomplete articles, the government saves face, at least in their minds. But boy, did they fight having to give ART. You may recall, if it was reported in the western press, President Mibeki's famous statement. "I don't know any one who has aids." And he said this when both national leaders and icons, Mandela and Buthelezi had lost children to the disease. And President Mibeki said this when the papers were reporting that 27 members of parliament receive free ART for HIV Aids while the population was dying, 2.5 million to date in South Africa.
Responsibility for the Aids epidemic in South Africa (and I think its actually a plague) now rests with the Deputy President, a woman, and the Deputy Health Minister, also a woman who our Health Minister fought against and kept sidelined, imagine, her own Deputy. It appears that the ANC in its ongoing misguided wisdom is trying to pretend that they have always had this policy. This is simply not true. They have since my being here, fought every offer of help from the international community, blocked every internal group seeking change, and snubbed their noses at the press. They even regularly froze overseas funds and closed 80% of our clinics, almost all in rural heavily infected areas. They are guilty as charged.
Last week, north american papers released the information that the United Nations stated that the average expected life span with HIV Aids is now 24 years. Effectively, no one need longer suffer the serious effects of the disease, nor do they need to die. And obviously in the next two decades amazing breakthroughs will be found. How could they not.
So in the last few weeks our Rural Women Association, of which I am Project Manager and Treasurer, have been racing around organizing a blitz for getting people tested, and most importantly onto ART treatment if they need it, and sooner than later. Yesterday we held a large event, well attended, with rock band and all, HIV Aids experts and the local clinic present to start testing. We bussed in the people with promises of food and music. For the next week we have many volunteers recently trained at a youth camp RWA helped facilitate, now going door to door to encourage people to be tested. All the clinics throughout our Breede River Winelands municipal region are ready and stocked with counselors and staff in place.
I noted yesterday that there were many young children present. I can only imagine that this was the first event in their lives where the words HIV Aids were mentioned every few minutes and that they the children will now be more comfortable hearing about it, talking about it, and knowing they must test and be aware of their status. Even discussing the most taboo of subjects in the underprivileged communities of rural South Africa, sex, was openly encouraged
South Africans in general I find, don't like to discuss sex at all, although the magazines and press are full of tiltillation and how to have better 'O's. But it never comes up in conversation and if it does people squirm and ask you to change the subject.
I work a lot with children in South Africa. I'm weekly at schools and have thousands of pictures. There are so many children, startling actually. One cannot help but wonder what with the rampant crime (its much like the wild west of the american 1880's here, except the guns are AK automatics, not six shooters) and with 41% of children under 17 already orphans in the north of South Africa, what will happen to these children, will they survive? How many will be raped? How many murdered? How many diseased or sent to prison? When young they are so beautiful and innocent, but what will happen to them? These are powerful questions, and I have few answers. Perhaps only a miracle and competent leaders can change a future which seems set for them. And now we have Tik (amphetamines like crack) sweeping our schools and destryoying lives and families in great swaths. This week we had a riot on the field at the large local school and only the police could quell it.
As for the event yesterday, my own comments when welcoming the attendees were simple. I told them there is no shame in contacting HIV. God is not punishing us if we contact it. Its a disease like TB or Malaria, life threatening, but it is not a punishment. Talk about it and test regularly. Child rapes represents about a 1/3 of all rapes in South Africa, often babies, and many children have the disease.
For now I'm relieved, one huge obstructive boulder we've finally surmounted, indeed a new Era, a new start. Now there is a chance at least with fighting this, rolling it back, a chance for children and adults alike to survive. South Africa has the highest rate of new infections in the world, but no longer is it a death sentence. Thank you Steven. You've likely no idea how your passion, commitment and sharp words have turned the tide. I hope someone tells you.
Next week, with the help of another Saltspringer, Baron (that's Saltspring Island, BC, Canada) we are building a creche in the local 'shack camp'. The children there presently are running about half naked, and covered in filth including excrement. The parents are all gone picking fruit for12 hrs a day and the children left unattended. Its harvest time. We can't wait for official approval, that takes years. We're just going to go ahead and build one more shack, larger, and better built, but a shack nevertheless, so in this way no one can stop us. We have our qualified creche leader ready to go, the Creche garden in place, and water; we're even emplacing a bath. They'll get a potjie pot (that's a pot like the ones you see in Cannibal cartoons) for their daily nutritious hot meals, a rarity for poor children.
Because I have been speaking about HIV Aids testing, I attach herewith the journal entry of my daughter Prairie, with her permission of course, of her Aids Testing experience in Capetown last year. So herewith for your information, Prairie's story.
This took place at the Atlantic Christian Assembly
Seapoint, Capetown
30 Main Road Sea Point Cape Town
Tel +27 (021) 439 4721 email: info@aca.org.za
Prairie writes: "I had been drinking all day with John’s brother in Capetown. We’d spent a great day at the beach, then went on to Hout Bay where we sat at a beautiful restaurant on the water. We had gone for chips but ended up drinking. The weather was wild this day. It changed 4 times while we sat drinking by the ocean.
When we first went to the beach there was a school trip, and watching all the girls, I was thinking about HIV Aids, contemplating and wondering how many of them would succumb to the disease. The percentages of those infected in South Africa are so high. I had been thinking about Aids anyway, as I’m a Canadian girl visiting my father in South Africa. Coming from North America, we hear only the worst news about South Africa and Aids. A man my father grew up with, Stephen Lewis, who is head of UN Aids, and who has been stopped from coming to South Africa, was on my mind, as was the impending International Aids day, the following day, December 1.
Then, driving back to John’s place with his brother and friends, we were driving along Main Road. I was in the backseat looking at everything, noticing all the sushi restaurants, which I was thrilled to see as it is very much like Vancouver. When we were a block and a half from their flat, I noticed a huge circular sign right beside a Woolworth’s food which said “free HIV Testing, Immediate Results, and it had the hours.
I made a comment to John’s brother, “Wow, they do free HIV testing, which I’ve wanted to do since coming from Canada.” I’d put it off because my dad told me when he had done it every year with his doctor, it’s expensive, especially the lab fees. Anyway, his brother replied, “It’s a clinic”, and he said this in an ambivalent way.
We continued on to his flat, after checking in with the beer store. I was introduced to genuine South African music by his friend who is a DJ. They all invited me out to spend the evening with them as the DJ was working a gig. Then I realized I was very drunk, and decided not to go. John returned. He’s a young Jewish Catholic lawyer, and my host. I got emotional and said some stupid things, as the HIV anxiety was on me. I told him I thought I was being used, that I didn’t want a boyfriend or a relationship. We had only known each other a few weeks. I told him I didn’t want to just put my body out there, and not be respected. He would fall asleep with his back to me after sex, something I’m not used to in Canada. Just a nice snuggle would have made all the difference.
That night I left his bed and slept on the couch. I had nightmares repeatedly, one about a previous boyfriend, and then, more frightening, about going to the clinic I’d seen earlier, and being found HIV positive. It was terrifying. I had night sweats with it. This is in the early hours of the day before the International Aids day, which I had been seeing in all the papers and on the news. My awareness had been peaked.
When John went to work the following morning he was very distant. I felt even worse than I had with my nightmares. I remembered my nightmare, and knew I had to go to the clinic. I was completely consumed with dread, terrified. In the pit of my stomach I thought I would throw up. I pulled myself together, had a bath, got myself ready, the whole time thinking that if I go to this clinic and I’m HIV positive, then my entire life would be split from that time before, and the new time after. This could be the last time I bathe, get dressed, brush my teeth, thinking HIV isn’t part of my life. I knew essentially my life would be divided every thing before the exact second I find out, and everything after. This was what I was feeling, I was terrified, and I was shaking. I literally put one foot in front of the other to move myself, and get to the clinic, which was a block and a half away.
Upon my arrival at 9.12 am (I checked) I saw that the sign said they opened at 10:00 am. That was the longest 48 minutes of my life. I went to three Internet cafes. I went for breakfast. In the end it was past 10:00 am. I was still sitting there, drinking my tea, and too afraid to leave. The clinic was directly across the street. I simply sat there staring at it. It took my server bringing my bill and asking me if I wanted anything else for me to accept, and then managed to smile and get up. I knew I needed to pay my bill and leave. I was even worried that the staff would see me go into the clinic. I wanted to be inconspicuous, and not judged. I was so self-conscious, so worried. What will people think? It’s such a personal thing. You don’t want people looking at you, assuming, or anything. And knowing that I’m white, I felt sheltered, and yet still felt obvious.
I got across the street, the main doors were locked. Security issues, very South African. I thought they were closed. I tried to go up on the elevator but there was a security thing that wouldn’t let me go to that floor. I went back out, went around the front, took out my cell phone and called the number on the sign at the front. I was answered. She told me to ring the bell and I got buzzed in right away, walked up the stairs. To the left was the main Christian assembly. I thought I needed to go further, but then found I needed to go into the assembly room. I thought the HIV Aids thing was separate but that was actually the main reception area. It was very modern. It looked like a typical office, not at all church like.
After backtracking I asked them if this was the Aids testing place. There was a receptionist and she said “Yes, Let me call them”, which she did. Then I waited a short minute, still terrifying and wanting to run back down the stairs. Not only was it HIV testing, but it was a Christian place, my two greatest fears. I thought they would take control of me or that there would be some kind of a religious catch. I decided if they tried to do that I would run down the stairs and out the door as fast as my feet could take me. Honestly, I decided I would do that.
To add to the suspense, I was told that they were out of the office or with someone. I had to sit down and wait, still terrified. The only reading material was the Jesus pamphlet telling all about how ‘He’ died for our sins. I read the entire thing and was worried that by doing so I was being ‘sucked in’. It said there is a reason you are reading this pamphlet today. Jesus died for your sins. If you don’t accept him, that Jesus died and suffered for your sins… well I don’t know what they warned would be my fate, but it was something creating more fear in me. Simply put, it was fear based as in “if you don’t do this, you will go to hell”. But it was done in a gentle way if that’s even possible. In reading that pamphlet, it made me think even more, “what am I doing here?” I should go home and get my dad to pay for the test, no strings attached, emotional, religious, whatever. But definitely where heaven and hell don’t apply.
This may sound ironic, but then this angelic figure walked through the door. I could feel her immediately. She reminded me of my mum, who is passed away. Mum’s left the building, you might say. Right away this woman says: “are you Prairie, sweetie”. I said ‘yes, are you the one I speak to about testing?” She said: ‘Yes sweetie”. Somehow I knew she meant it. Her heart was so amazing, bigger than herself. I relaxed immediately. I no longer was thinking of running down the stairs.
She told me there was one person who was still in the room and she had to wait to test me. Five or ten minutes. Then she said as she was walking away, “it’s similar and as easy as a pregnancy test, about 15 to 20 minutes for you to wait and we’ll give you an answer”. She then left with a comforting smile on her face.
Five minutes later she returned through a different door. I had been reading over and over the Jesus pamphlet, as there was nothing else to read, while dying with anxiety. I was so scared, but determined. It took everything in me. I forced myself. I knew if I bolted I would miss an important moment.
A door at the end of the hall opened and a white woman came out. She seemed very happy as she ran down the stairs. It was like a good omen, a light at the end of the tunnel.
Then the woman I came to shortly and affectionately know now as Sister Williams said: “Come with me Sweetie”. I did the classic, Who… Me!, Looking over my shoulders, procrastinating. Again I forced one foot before the other and followed her into, surprisingly, a children’s play room. There was no one there. Huge comfy chairs, children’s toys, totally non-clinical. I sat down shaking. She settled into a comfy chair opposite me, putting herself on my level, no separation.
Then our conversation began. To begin with, the only thing she asked me to do was print my name on a form that had so many questions. All she wanted was my name and signature. She knew I was there for a testing, and acting as a counsellor she started asking me questions.
At first I was in a blur when she asked questions. What I remember is telling her that I had unprotected sex, had a bad feeling, and needed peace of mind. I volunteered this information right away. She had asked me when was the last time I had unprotected sex and I told her it had been the night before. I saw that she understood what I was saying and respected me for saying it. She gave me the feeling that she was so supportive of me actually coming in. She definitely understood the whole peace of mind thing. I started to pay attention. We chatted for a while, I don’t remember the details, then she asked me “how would I deal with the results if the test came in positive, how would I cope. How had I coped with tragedy in the past.
Automatically, I told her that my mother had unexpectedly died. That was a terrible time for me. I felt I could be honest with this woman. It was instinctual. She reminded me of my step mum, Susie, who is loving and angelic and a person I feel I can tell anything to. Likewise, with Sister Williams I felt ultimate trust. Even though this woman was a stranger I knew her immediately to be non judgemental. It was her energy, the way she was connecting with me. She reached out and I responded.
I was getting clear and starting to come from the viewpoint of a former peer counsellor during my high school years, all the way to matric. I had graduated with honours and the highest marks for a 4-year peer-counselling course, even though I had done lots of all the drugs through that period. All my friends did. I knew throughout that period that I would never fail. It was experimental. It was learning, it was schooling in it’s own right, and dealt with matters of the mind and emotions, and of course, the heart.
My answer to Sister Williams, was…. Drugs, cocaine. I came here to get away from it. I’ve made a decision I’m done with it, 10 years of my life. It’s over. I’m dry two months now. She asked would I go back to it if you’re positive. That’s what every question led to. If I was positive, what would I do. I was both shocked and amazed by her questions. Her concern was, what would I do if I come up positive. Would I kill myself. “Will you commit suicide” she asks? I said: “Definitely not!” Then she asked: “do you have anyone here in Capetown you can tell, who you trust, who would be supportive”?
I told her ‘no’.
She asked me about John. If I was positive, would I go and tell the guy. It’s scary for me to actually tell someone I’ve slept with, you know, to actually tell them. I can deal with my own stuff, but to talk to another… wow, that’s scary. Like, ‘you’re on death row because of me.”
“Well, who do you have”, she asked. I told her my dad is in Montagu. A phone call and he’ll come get me right now and we’ll deal with it. He’s supportive. He doesn’t judge me. I know how he’ll react. He’ll start looking after things. Not to worry. I know my dad. He’s 110% there for me
I told her I’ve just made new friends here. Again she asked, “can you tell them.” I said ‘no. They are new friends; I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve just come to South Africa from Canada. I do have friends here that I like but there is no way I can go to them with this. I came here to see dad. He’s my best friend. He’ll be here as fast as possible if I’m positive. I’ll call my dad. Without a doubt he will come here and get me and we’ll deal with it together. There’s no way I would hurt myself if he were with me. She then said that she thought I was ready and prepared to take the test.
I took a deep breath, again thinking that my whole life could change in the next few minutes. She then pulled out the instrument for taking the test, it was a small handheld ‘thing’ can’t really describe it very well. Essentially there is a small needle that is inserted in the tip of it and they of course use a new needle straight out of the package every time and they discard the old ones by putting them in one of the bio-hazard medical boxes. I had always had previous HIV testing done in Canada by a needle being put in my arm and three to four vials of blood being drawn and then having to wait a couple of weeks so I was fascinated by this improvement.
Sister Williams asked me to put my left hand out and she took hold of my ring finger (which I thought was a bit ironic). She squeezed the tip to trap the blood and then quickly pricked it. The prick was very small but the blood started flowing right away and she then took a cotton swab to collect the blood with. Then she put the tip of the swab into a device that looks the same as a home pregnancy test, honestly. I had never seen this before and was amazed by it.
Fifteen minutes later the results were in. All I can say is that I left smiling and didn’t need to call my dad.
Know your status.
Prairie Light Jolliffe, December, 2005."
Two weeks ago I was invited to attend a Dept of Health presentation which took place here in Montagu, in the beautiful Western Cape of South Africa. The news and information which was given to the 30 who attended, all of us working in medical or community service, was nothing less then startling. Dept of Health officials told us that South Africa was now ready to start supplying free Antiretrovirals (or ART for Antiretroviral Treatment) to any South Africans with a TCell count of 200 or less. There is no confusion in my mind about the reason for the Dept. of Health's radical and relatively silent change in policy. It has come about as a result of the acute national government embarassment prompted by Steven Lewis's comments at the World Aids Convention in Toronto a few months ago.
When I asked my friend Dr. Paul Spiller, Superintendent of both the Montagu and Robertson Hospitals who is also my personal doctor, and who was one of the Dept of Health presenters, whether there was enough stock in place, he said "Yes". I was stunned.
Because the South African government has been so obstinate and indeed obstructive of ART treatment reaching the people, and because the ramifications of our government policy have been so disastrous for the suffering of adults and children alike, I found that I was actually in shock. It was as though I couldn't believe it and anytime I thought about it in the following week, which was a lot, I knew I wasn't quite grasping it. How could this be true?
Why were the papers, the TV and radio not announcing this? We were being told something by the Dept of Health so dynamically radical as a change in policy, one simply couldn't grasp it. There has still not been an announcement in the papers, although I think I know why. Since Steven Lewis, the Head of UN Aids for Africa strongly spoke out against South Africa stating that the SA government policy on HIV Aids boarded on the fringes of lunacy, our Health Minister has been quietly reclused with the excuse she's been ill, in hospital at first, and then home recovering, from what no one knows. She, our Health Minister has been saying for years, "We have the best treatment policy and system in the world". What utter nonsense. This way, by not announcing the shift in the papers and press, rather only hinting at it with incomplete articles, the government saves face, at least in their minds. But boy, did they fight having to give ART. You may recall, if it was reported in the western press, President Mibeki's famous statement. "I don't know any one who has aids." And he said this when both national leaders and icons, Mandela and Buthelezi had lost children to the disease. And President Mibeki said this when the papers were reporting that 27 members of parliament receive free ART for HIV Aids while the population was dying, 2.5 million to date in South Africa.
Responsibility for the Aids epidemic in South Africa (and I think its actually a plague) now rests with the Deputy President, a woman, and the Deputy Health Minister, also a woman who our Health Minister fought against and kept sidelined, imagine, her own Deputy. It appears that the ANC in its ongoing misguided wisdom is trying to pretend that they have always had this policy. This is simply not true. They have since my being here, fought every offer of help from the international community, blocked every internal group seeking change, and snubbed their noses at the press. They even regularly froze overseas funds and closed 80% of our clinics, almost all in rural heavily infected areas. They are guilty as charged.
Last week, north american papers released the information that the United Nations stated that the average expected life span with HIV Aids is now 24 years. Effectively, no one need longer suffer the serious effects of the disease, nor do they need to die. And obviously in the next two decades amazing breakthroughs will be found. How could they not.
So in the last few weeks our Rural Women Association, of which I am Project Manager and Treasurer, have been racing around organizing a blitz for getting people tested, and most importantly onto ART treatment if they need it, and sooner than later. Yesterday we held a large event, well attended, with rock band and all, HIV Aids experts and the local clinic present to start testing. We bussed in the people with promises of food and music. For the next week we have many volunteers recently trained at a youth camp RWA helped facilitate, now going door to door to encourage people to be tested. All the clinics throughout our Breede River Winelands municipal region are ready and stocked with counselors and staff in place.
I noted yesterday that there were many young children present. I can only imagine that this was the first event in their lives where the words HIV Aids were mentioned every few minutes and that they the children will now be more comfortable hearing about it, talking about it, and knowing they must test and be aware of their status. Even discussing the most taboo of subjects in the underprivileged communities of rural South Africa, sex, was openly encouraged
South Africans in general I find, don't like to discuss sex at all, although the magazines and press are full of tiltillation and how to have better 'O's. But it never comes up in conversation and if it does people squirm and ask you to change the subject.
I work a lot with children in South Africa. I'm weekly at schools and have thousands of pictures. There are so many children, startling actually. One cannot help but wonder what with the rampant crime (its much like the wild west of the american 1880's here, except the guns are AK automatics, not six shooters) and with 41% of children under 17 already orphans in the north of South Africa, what will happen to these children, will they survive? How many will be raped? How many murdered? How many diseased or sent to prison? When young they are so beautiful and innocent, but what will happen to them? These are powerful questions, and I have few answers. Perhaps only a miracle and competent leaders can change a future which seems set for them. And now we have Tik (amphetamines like crack) sweeping our schools and destryoying lives and families in great swaths. This week we had a riot on the field at the large local school and only the police could quell it.
As for the event yesterday, my own comments when welcoming the attendees were simple. I told them there is no shame in contacting HIV. God is not punishing us if we contact it. Its a disease like TB or Malaria, life threatening, but it is not a punishment. Talk about it and test regularly. Child rapes represents about a 1/3 of all rapes in South Africa, often babies, and many children have the disease.
For now I'm relieved, one huge obstructive boulder we've finally surmounted, indeed a new Era, a new start. Now there is a chance at least with fighting this, rolling it back, a chance for children and adults alike to survive. South Africa has the highest rate of new infections in the world, but no longer is it a death sentence. Thank you Steven. You've likely no idea how your passion, commitment and sharp words have turned the tide. I hope someone tells you.
Next week, with the help of another Saltspringer, Baron (that's Saltspring Island, BC, Canada) we are building a creche in the local 'shack camp'. The children there presently are running about half naked, and covered in filth including excrement. The parents are all gone picking fruit for12 hrs a day and the children left unattended. Its harvest time. We can't wait for official approval, that takes years. We're just going to go ahead and build one more shack, larger, and better built, but a shack nevertheless, so in this way no one can stop us. We have our qualified creche leader ready to go, the Creche garden in place, and water; we're even emplacing a bath. They'll get a potjie pot (that's a pot like the ones you see in Cannibal cartoons) for their daily nutritious hot meals, a rarity for poor children.
Because I have been speaking about HIV Aids testing, I attach herewith the journal entry of my daughter Prairie, with her permission of course, of her Aids Testing experience in Capetown last year. So herewith for your information, Prairie's story.
This took place at the Atlantic Christian Assembly
Seapoint, Capetown
30 Main Road Sea Point Cape Town
Tel +27 (021) 439 4721 email: info@aca.org.za
Prairie writes: "I had been drinking all day with John’s brother in Capetown. We’d spent a great day at the beach, then went on to Hout Bay where we sat at a beautiful restaurant on the water. We had gone for chips but ended up drinking. The weather was wild this day. It changed 4 times while we sat drinking by the ocean.
When we first went to the beach there was a school trip, and watching all the girls, I was thinking about HIV Aids, contemplating and wondering how many of them would succumb to the disease. The percentages of those infected in South Africa are so high. I had been thinking about Aids anyway, as I’m a Canadian girl visiting my father in South Africa. Coming from North America, we hear only the worst news about South Africa and Aids. A man my father grew up with, Stephen Lewis, who is head of UN Aids, and who has been stopped from coming to South Africa, was on my mind, as was the impending International Aids day, the following day, December 1.
Then, driving back to John’s place with his brother and friends, we were driving along Main Road. I was in the backseat looking at everything, noticing all the sushi restaurants, which I was thrilled to see as it is very much like Vancouver. When we were a block and a half from their flat, I noticed a huge circular sign right beside a Woolworth’s food which said “free HIV Testing, Immediate Results, and it had the hours.
I made a comment to John’s brother, “Wow, they do free HIV testing, which I’ve wanted to do since coming from Canada.” I’d put it off because my dad told me when he had done it every year with his doctor, it’s expensive, especially the lab fees. Anyway, his brother replied, “It’s a clinic”, and he said this in an ambivalent way.
We continued on to his flat, after checking in with the beer store. I was introduced to genuine South African music by his friend who is a DJ. They all invited me out to spend the evening with them as the DJ was working a gig. Then I realized I was very drunk, and decided not to go. John returned. He’s a young Jewish Catholic lawyer, and my host. I got emotional and said some stupid things, as the HIV anxiety was on me. I told him I thought I was being used, that I didn’t want a boyfriend or a relationship. We had only known each other a few weeks. I told him I didn’t want to just put my body out there, and not be respected. He would fall asleep with his back to me after sex, something I’m not used to in Canada. Just a nice snuggle would have made all the difference.
That night I left his bed and slept on the couch. I had nightmares repeatedly, one about a previous boyfriend, and then, more frightening, about going to the clinic I’d seen earlier, and being found HIV positive. It was terrifying. I had night sweats with it. This is in the early hours of the day before the International Aids day, which I had been seeing in all the papers and on the news. My awareness had been peaked.
When John went to work the following morning he was very distant. I felt even worse than I had with my nightmares. I remembered my nightmare, and knew I had to go to the clinic. I was completely consumed with dread, terrified. In the pit of my stomach I thought I would throw up. I pulled myself together, had a bath, got myself ready, the whole time thinking that if I go to this clinic and I’m HIV positive, then my entire life would be split from that time before, and the new time after. This could be the last time I bathe, get dressed, brush my teeth, thinking HIV isn’t part of my life. I knew essentially my life would be divided every thing before the exact second I find out, and everything after. This was what I was feeling, I was terrified, and I was shaking. I literally put one foot in front of the other to move myself, and get to the clinic, which was a block and a half away.
Upon my arrival at 9.12 am (I checked) I saw that the sign said they opened at 10:00 am. That was the longest 48 minutes of my life. I went to three Internet cafes. I went for breakfast. In the end it was past 10:00 am. I was still sitting there, drinking my tea, and too afraid to leave. The clinic was directly across the street. I simply sat there staring at it. It took my server bringing my bill and asking me if I wanted anything else for me to accept, and then managed to smile and get up. I knew I needed to pay my bill and leave. I was even worried that the staff would see me go into the clinic. I wanted to be inconspicuous, and not judged. I was so self-conscious, so worried. What will people think? It’s such a personal thing. You don’t want people looking at you, assuming, or anything. And knowing that I’m white, I felt sheltered, and yet still felt obvious.
I got across the street, the main doors were locked. Security issues, very South African. I thought they were closed. I tried to go up on the elevator but there was a security thing that wouldn’t let me go to that floor. I went back out, went around the front, took out my cell phone and called the number on the sign at the front. I was answered. She told me to ring the bell and I got buzzed in right away, walked up the stairs. To the left was the main Christian assembly. I thought I needed to go further, but then found I needed to go into the assembly room. I thought the HIV Aids thing was separate but that was actually the main reception area. It was very modern. It looked like a typical office, not at all church like.
After backtracking I asked them if this was the Aids testing place. There was a receptionist and she said “Yes, Let me call them”, which she did. Then I waited a short minute, still terrifying and wanting to run back down the stairs. Not only was it HIV testing, but it was a Christian place, my two greatest fears. I thought they would take control of me or that there would be some kind of a religious catch. I decided if they tried to do that I would run down the stairs and out the door as fast as my feet could take me. Honestly, I decided I would do that.
To add to the suspense, I was told that they were out of the office or with someone. I had to sit down and wait, still terrified. The only reading material was the Jesus pamphlet telling all about how ‘He’ died for our sins. I read the entire thing and was worried that by doing so I was being ‘sucked in’. It said there is a reason you are reading this pamphlet today. Jesus died for your sins. If you don’t accept him, that Jesus died and suffered for your sins… well I don’t know what they warned would be my fate, but it was something creating more fear in me. Simply put, it was fear based as in “if you don’t do this, you will go to hell”. But it was done in a gentle way if that’s even possible. In reading that pamphlet, it made me think even more, “what am I doing here?” I should go home and get my dad to pay for the test, no strings attached, emotional, religious, whatever. But definitely where heaven and hell don’t apply.
This may sound ironic, but then this angelic figure walked through the door. I could feel her immediately. She reminded me of my mum, who is passed away. Mum’s left the building, you might say. Right away this woman says: “are you Prairie, sweetie”. I said ‘yes, are you the one I speak to about testing?” She said: ‘Yes sweetie”. Somehow I knew she meant it. Her heart was so amazing, bigger than herself. I relaxed immediately. I no longer was thinking of running down the stairs.
She told me there was one person who was still in the room and she had to wait to test me. Five or ten minutes. Then she said as she was walking away, “it’s similar and as easy as a pregnancy test, about 15 to 20 minutes for you to wait and we’ll give you an answer”. She then left with a comforting smile on her face.
Five minutes later she returned through a different door. I had been reading over and over the Jesus pamphlet, as there was nothing else to read, while dying with anxiety. I was so scared, but determined. It took everything in me. I forced myself. I knew if I bolted I would miss an important moment.
A door at the end of the hall opened and a white woman came out. She seemed very happy as she ran down the stairs. It was like a good omen, a light at the end of the tunnel.
Then the woman I came to shortly and affectionately know now as Sister Williams said: “Come with me Sweetie”. I did the classic, Who… Me!, Looking over my shoulders, procrastinating. Again I forced one foot before the other and followed her into, surprisingly, a children’s play room. There was no one there. Huge comfy chairs, children’s toys, totally non-clinical. I sat down shaking. She settled into a comfy chair opposite me, putting herself on my level, no separation.
Then our conversation began. To begin with, the only thing she asked me to do was print my name on a form that had so many questions. All she wanted was my name and signature. She knew I was there for a testing, and acting as a counsellor she started asking me questions.
At first I was in a blur when she asked questions. What I remember is telling her that I had unprotected sex, had a bad feeling, and needed peace of mind. I volunteered this information right away. She had asked me when was the last time I had unprotected sex and I told her it had been the night before. I saw that she understood what I was saying and respected me for saying it. She gave me the feeling that she was so supportive of me actually coming in. She definitely understood the whole peace of mind thing. I started to pay attention. We chatted for a while, I don’t remember the details, then she asked me “how would I deal with the results if the test came in positive, how would I cope. How had I coped with tragedy in the past.
Automatically, I told her that my mother had unexpectedly died. That was a terrible time for me. I felt I could be honest with this woman. It was instinctual. She reminded me of my step mum, Susie, who is loving and angelic and a person I feel I can tell anything to. Likewise, with Sister Williams I felt ultimate trust. Even though this woman was a stranger I knew her immediately to be non judgemental. It was her energy, the way she was connecting with me. She reached out and I responded.
I was getting clear and starting to come from the viewpoint of a former peer counsellor during my high school years, all the way to matric. I had graduated with honours and the highest marks for a 4-year peer-counselling course, even though I had done lots of all the drugs through that period. All my friends did. I knew throughout that period that I would never fail. It was experimental. It was learning, it was schooling in it’s own right, and dealt with matters of the mind and emotions, and of course, the heart.
My answer to Sister Williams, was…. Drugs, cocaine. I came here to get away from it. I’ve made a decision I’m done with it, 10 years of my life. It’s over. I’m dry two months now. She asked would I go back to it if you’re positive. That’s what every question led to. If I was positive, what would I do. I was both shocked and amazed by her questions. Her concern was, what would I do if I come up positive. Would I kill myself. “Will you commit suicide” she asks? I said: “Definitely not!” Then she asked: “do you have anyone here in Capetown you can tell, who you trust, who would be supportive”?
I told her ‘no’.
She asked me about John. If I was positive, would I go and tell the guy. It’s scary for me to actually tell someone I’ve slept with, you know, to actually tell them. I can deal with my own stuff, but to talk to another… wow, that’s scary. Like, ‘you’re on death row because of me.”
“Well, who do you have”, she asked. I told her my dad is in Montagu. A phone call and he’ll come get me right now and we’ll deal with it. He’s supportive. He doesn’t judge me. I know how he’ll react. He’ll start looking after things. Not to worry. I know my dad. He’s 110% there for me
I told her I’ve just made new friends here. Again she asked, “can you tell them.” I said ‘no. They are new friends; I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve just come to South Africa from Canada. I do have friends here that I like but there is no way I can go to them with this. I came here to see dad. He’s my best friend. He’ll be here as fast as possible if I’m positive. I’ll call my dad. Without a doubt he will come here and get me and we’ll deal with it together. There’s no way I would hurt myself if he were with me. She then said that she thought I was ready and prepared to take the test.
I took a deep breath, again thinking that my whole life could change in the next few minutes. She then pulled out the instrument for taking the test, it was a small handheld ‘thing’ can’t really describe it very well. Essentially there is a small needle that is inserted in the tip of it and they of course use a new needle straight out of the package every time and they discard the old ones by putting them in one of the bio-hazard medical boxes. I had always had previous HIV testing done in Canada by a needle being put in my arm and three to four vials of blood being drawn and then having to wait a couple of weeks so I was fascinated by this improvement.
Sister Williams asked me to put my left hand out and she took hold of my ring finger (which I thought was a bit ironic). She squeezed the tip to trap the blood and then quickly pricked it. The prick was very small but the blood started flowing right away and she then took a cotton swab to collect the blood with. Then she put the tip of the swab into a device that looks the same as a home pregnancy test, honestly. I had never seen this before and was amazed by it.
Fifteen minutes later the results were in. All I can say is that I left smiling and didn’t need to call my dad.
Know your status.
Prairie Light Jolliffe, December, 2005."
posted by Legal Alien at 2:22 PM
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