Before I Die...

“Better to know, than not to.” Well, I was here now; I guess I’ll know soon enough. I tried with no avail to calm my nerves and heard a husky, female voice coming toward the room in which I sat. When she walked into the room, I fell limp. I wanted to pass out right there on the floor. I was so nervous.

The counselor was a white woman of medium build and middle-aged. She saw that I was hyperventilating and knew I was scared to death. “Calm down, calm down, this is only the test, sweetheart. Just relax and take a breather.” She caressed my shoulder as a loving mother would, and my anxiety subsided.

I placed my hands on my chest and sucked in a mouthful of air. I knew I wanted to do this, but it was all happening so fast. Two weeks ago I was living life the best way I could and now today I had to confront my past in front of this total stranger.

“Before I send you in with the nurse to give blood, there are a couple of questions I’m going to have to ask. Please do not be offended by the content; they’re pretty much standard, and we ask all who take the HIV test the same,” she said benevolently.

“Okay,” I said, nervously gripping the side of my chair.

“First question is do you use drugs?”

“Yes, all kinds,” I said looking for a reaction. None was given.

“Two, how long have you been using?” she asked as she made a note in a chart.

“Since I was ’bout thirteen, ’til last year,” I replied, somewhat proud of my accomplishment.

“And what would you say was your drug of choice?”

“Heroin.”

There it was: an eyebrow curled a bit. It was obvious she tried not to make eye contact.

“If the results came back positive, you’d have to notify your partner or partners. How many have you engaged in sexual intercourse with?” she asked, as if bored from asking the question for the millionth time.

“About 300, plus a few boyfriends on the side,” I said with a lump the size of a softball in my throat. “I’m a prostitute!” I exclaimed, as if she should have known.

That did it; the once stoic face softened at my response. Sympathy took over, and her voice, which just minutes ago was a deep monotone, heightened with care and concern. She appeared as if she wanted to cry, but I guess she figured it wasn’t the professional thing to do. The eye contact was made and she said, “Oh, you poor thing, did you practice safe sex during these encounters?”

With my head down, studying what seemed to be dust balls and dirt underneath the examination table, I shamefully said, “Not all the time. Sometimes I did and sometimes I didn’t.”

I felt her stare beating on the top of my head. She said, “Have you ever had any past sexually transmitted diseases, such as gonorrhea, syphilis, chlamydia, genital warts, or herpes? Anything of that nature?”

Feeling like a lowlife and slowly sinking in the chair, I replied, “I had gonorrhea a couple of times when I was about sixteen.” I recalled having numerous yeast infections but thought it better not to mention it. As far I knew, all women had those.

She placed her hands on her hips and said, “Well, I must say, with what you’ve told me, there’s a slight chance you may have contracted HIV. The only way we can be sure is to have your blood tested. I must commend you for making the right decision to come here today. The test results generally take two weeks to come back. I want you to make a promise to return. Can you do that?”

Not knowing why she said that and deciding not to probe for a reason, I simply answered, “Yes, I promise,” avoiding her eyes.

I wanted to cry and wasn’t going to, until she shocked me by taking my hand and gesturing for me to stand. Out of the blue, she gave me a big hug. It felt as if she really cared about me, and that was something I wasn’t quite used to. The tears came down in a downpour. I didn’t want to let go of this stranger whom I’d just met minutes ago.

Noticing I was soaking her shoulder, I finally decided to pull away. To this day I wondered if she was like that with everyone or was I a special case. Regardless, she was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on, and for that I thanked her.