“I wasn`t having sex with the guys on the military base because that
Transcription
“I wasn`t having sex with the guys on the military base because that
“I wasn’t having sex with the guys on the military base because that would have put me out there and jeopardized my being able to get an honorable discharge. I didn’t want this because I had gone through too much to get there. So I would go to the bath houses on my breaks and go buck wild. I think that put me more at risk.” Raymond Hayward, 55 Philadelphia, PA Homosexual intercourse is still the leading cause of HIV infection. - U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention I was diagnosed with HIV in September of 1982, and I am now going on 29 years of living with the virus. I was actually getting a physical done to go back into the military reserves. They sent me a letter saying that they could not accept me because of irregularities in my blood. They told me to seek medical help, and that was it. I also developed a form of skin cancer – Kaposi Sarcoma. It is one of the opportunistic infections of HIV. I had the dark blotches on my legs and arms. I thought that it was from hitting myself when I was high and things like that, but I was wrong. I am still getting chemotherapy for this condition today. Originally, when I was over in Germany while in the service, they had bath houses – different rooms where people would go and have sex. I wasn’t having sex with the guys on the military base because that would have put me out there and jeopardized my being able to get an honorable discharge. I didn’t want this because I had gone through too much to get to where I was. So I would go to the bath houses on my breaks and go buck wild. I think that put me more at risk. During this time, my mother and I lived together. It wasn’t until 2000 when I told her about my diagnosis, though. I have a brother who lived in Lancaster, and I told him shortly after I found out. It was strange because he was always looking at me because, at the time you know, people were starting to look older and as if they were wasting away. Fortunately those things weren’t happening to me, but my condition wasn’t talked about in my family. I associated that with the experience of having a loss in your family. You go through the stages of denial, anger, and acceptance. I became very angry to the point where I would just lash out at anybody. It got to the point where my mother was like, “I didn’t give you HIV! Why are you doing this to me?” That’s when I realized that I had to accept it and take whatever means necessary to get my life on the right track. At that time, HIV was pretty much just affecting White, gay males, so I was confused by my diagnosis and also in a state of denial. From there, I had heard about a place on Broad Street, where they did the actual HIV testing at the time. I went there, and they drew blood. At that time, it took almost a month before you got results, so I just had to wait. Weeks later, my mom or someone told me that I had a call from “We the People.” At that time, it wasn’t like it is now – being able to get directly linked into case management or any kind of care, so I pretty much did nothing about it. I still just thought that it was a White, gay man’s disease. I wasn’t having sex with White people, so I didn’t think that it affected me. The turning point was when I developed Thrush, which is a coding that can go as far down as the esophagus. I did go see about that, and I was told that this was one of the symptoms of having HIV. I was depressed for one. I felt alone. I still didn’t understand. At that time, the White, Gay men here in the city were saying that they needed medications and care. However, by me being an African American, I felt that their struggle didn’t apply to me. It took me at least 10 years to become proactive about my diagnosis because, after I came to understand that something was wrong with me, I felt that I was going to die anyway. Initially, I was like playing Russian Roulette – having unprotected sex, drugging, and drinking. Of course you compromise your value when you do things like this, but I didn’t care. I felt like all hope was lost. I wasn’t really careful. A pivotal point was at age 34, when Crack was in full swing. I thought, Oh well, I might as well do it, I am going to die anyway. But after waking up day after day and still being miserable, I figured, God is trying to tell me something, and I need to do something about it because I wasn’t killing myself. It wasn’t like I was cutting my veins, but I was trying to take myself out, and medicating myself to become desensitized. I started seeking out support groups and other people who were positive to see what they were doing and how they were dealing with the diagnosis. It was extremely helpful. It gave me hope. services, and I also felt disappointed because it seemed like we weren’t getting our share of the pie as Black people. This is the only black agency that I really knew about, and resources were limited. I wanted to be proactive about the epidemic, but most African-American men seemed more apathetic. Concerns were limited because I think that, as a people, we aren’t always focused on lifting each other up. It’s like we are crabs pulling each other down before we get any higher. So I became involved with Caucasian males, who were campaigning for help, but I sat apart from them because I didn’t feel any type of bonding taking place. I felt like an outsider because of our racial differences. When I came here though, I saw people like me – my skin color, young men, and even women. It was encouraging because, like me, they didn’t know what to do, but they wanted to do something. Places like this are important for more than case management because there are physical and emotional stages that come with a diagnosis. You are able to talk to someone who is like you, and you are able to talk about shared experiences and communicate on the same level. I think that, because of socioeconomic issues that aren’t dealt with surrounding our people in general, we suffer as a community. Sometimes, for us, it seems as though there is no other way out. So, when it comes to things like prostitution, it is an example of how desperate we feel because circumstances like unemployment lead people to have sex for money. This puts us at a high risk for HIV/ AIDS and other diseases. When we realize that there are larger issues behind the epidemic and do something about it, it will make a huge difference. I had a case manager at BEBASHI who told me to put $2.00 away for every time that I had an urge to use drugs. At first I could only do it once or twice, but I finally stuck to it. In a month’s time I had about $50.00. It was nice to feel supported by someone who, even though she was younger than me, had so much knowledge, and who really cared. She offered me different strategies to help me overcome certain obstacles in my life ( i.e. drug use, self value, etc.). I felt endowed to BEBASHI. She had a real concern. When it is someone of your own nationality, it has a better impact. You are not just a number coming in for treatment. Despite my efforts, I haven’t had any intimate or sexual relationships since my diagnosis. It appeared to me that, when I was honest and told someone about my condition, they were accepting and encouraging – saying that we would practice safe sex. But then they wouldn’t call me. When I would see them on the street, they would act like they didn’t know me. It made me feel like a leaper. It just made me that much more interested in knowing what was going on and how to make my quality of life that much better. I’ve been with BEBASHI for a little over 5 years now. At first, I was intimidated by being there and needing In terms of treatment, the medications actually made me anemic at first. I was really taken through a loop. I was followed my regiment, and yet I became sick. I didn’t want to do anything. The care provider did warn me that there may be side effects and encouraged me to let her know of any. That hindsight allowed me to speak for myself, instead of simply saying, “Okay, you’re right!” I could look at myself and see what wasn’t right. Also, with the aging process, my body is changing. I have high cholesterol now and borderline high blood pressure – the sort of things that come with aging. But, with me Of new HIV cases in the city of Philadelphia, 1/3 are among men who have sex with men. - The Philadelphia Inquirer Approximately 25% of HIV-infected individuals living in Philadelphia are unaware of their positive status. - The Public Report having the desire to live tomorrow, I hope that I am making a difference by taking the medicine, and that is what makes me adhere to my given regiment. It is important that people get out there and say, “Hey, look at me! I’m doing it,,” because a lot of times, if we don’t see people like us, who have gone through what we have gone through, we don’t relate. For me, tomorrow is another day, and it opens new challenges and avenues. If I am worried about something today, instead of thinking, Oh, I am so upset - let me get high, I just believe that maybe I can approach it differently tomorrow. Philadelphia has a large pregnant/parenting teenage population, which represents the fact that safe sex and condoms aren’t being used as much as they should be. These are my brothers and sisters. I feel like, if they see someone who has living to the virus, they will understand the consequences of their actions. Hopefully I would be able to share my war stories about how being promiscuous and thinking that I had to sleep with everybody was only for a few minutes, but yet the consequences are life long choices. And, if they understand that I am long-term survivor, they will also see that a diagnosis is not a death sentence and that you can still live and be productive. As far as injection drug use, we are fortunate enough to have needle exchanges now. A lot of people fought for many years to have that take place. Because addiction and coming to grips with your addiction is so paramount, if you are going to do it, at least you have access to proper needle exchange. We would want people not to do it at all, but sometimes we fall back to what we are familiar with. We try to medicate ourselves and forget about our problems. This is where being involved with drugs wears your system down. I am more aware of my health. I am more in tuned with my body. I ask questions. I don’t just take what medical doctors give me. I question them. I want to know what the results mean and what more I can do to make my life better. I want people to see my little light shining – my small contributions. My mother died in December. She was a laundry mat attendant. The first week after she died, I could go into her room and get things out, and then for months I couldn’t. Last night, I went into her room for the first time in a long time to get rid of some of her clothes and things, and I remembered that BEBASHI has a food bank. I figured that her old plastic bags could be used for people’s food, and so I brought them in today. Therefore her spirit is living through that giving act. I just want people to be impacted in a positive way by my small gestures like that one. I also want people to know that an HIV/AIDS diagnosis it is not a death sentence. Jesus went in among the lepers, so we are to embrace our brothers and sisters and their infirmities and help out where we can. Raymond continues to receive case management services and attend support group meetings at BEBASHI. He is also actively involved in the fight against HIV/ AIDS. He is vocal about the need for people to become more concerned and proactive in advocating for change. Raymond has set a wonderful example of perseverance in the face of both physical and emotional obstacles, and BEBASHI has been glad to support him along the way.