Some time ago, when I was working in the area, I said I understood the
problems of gay men living in isolated rural areas when it came to
living with HIV/AIDS.
There are purple splotches growing over my right ankle and some spots
are beginning to grow on my left ankle and foot. Having seen it before
this looks like KS. While I can go to my doctor for narcotics and will
happily admit I am opiate dependant, I cannot bring myself to ask for a
HIV test. Even going to the local hospital would be too much, as I would
know the nurse who takes my blood and send it off for a test. Even if it
does not come back positive everyone in the town and local area will
know I had a HIV test. Due to my chronic ill health, it is already
suspected that I have AIDS.
I will admit to having great and wild unsafe sex with an actor, around
my own age. But still, locally, I cannot bring myself to ask for a HIV
anti-body test. The purple splotches on my ankles continue to grow.
Severe disabling muscle pain, disabling fatigue, I have seen this before
in others. This is how I feel.
And still I cannot bring myself to ask for the test. I would have
married him if the time was right, the sex was that good, but this could
not be. (The eldest of an old and respected grazier family cannot shack
up with a male actor, at his whim. This is simply not done. Patrick
White, how I envy you.)
I said I understood the plight of gay men living in isolated rural areas
with HIV/AIDS. How wrong was I. How wrong. And still I cannot ask for
the test.
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