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I don’t have HIV, which is nice…

by Alex on Sep.04, 2009, under Blog

But I did absolutely shit myself for a short while.

Just before heading back to the UK I went for a sexual health checkup thing. I went to get my results, clearly expecting nothing untoward. I was gret, envelope in hand and smile on face by the lady who’d been there when I’d had my blood taken. Reaching out for the envelope, she walked past telling me that I had to see a psychologist.

That is when I shat my pants. Why? Why do I need to see a psychologist? What’s the matter? The fact that I’d done nothing risky didn’t help at all – employing logic at this point did nothing to quell the rapidly rising fear that I was experiencing. The only reason I could come up with for seeing a shrink was that there was some very very bad news coming my way.

Sitting in the waiting room I contemplated. What would I do? My life could be about to change in the most unimaginable way. How do I prepare my self for deteriorating health and a very premature death. Practically, what would I do, how would I earn money etc, how long did I have left?

‘Quite worried’ was my response to the ‘how are you’ with which the guy greeted me. ‘Wondering why I need to see you get get my results.’ ‘Don’t worry, it’s normal when ever you request an HIV test.’ Opens envelope, all negative, massive sigh of relief. The fact that I’d seen a psychologist before getting my blood taken had escaped my logical reasoning when searching the answer to my ‘why’ question. That too is standard fayre in Colombia. Apparently some employers try to demand that job applicants have an HIV test as part of the vetting process – this is illegal and so seeing an official before being tested is part of how people are protected.

The sense of relief was mental and I grinned and tittered most of the way to the airport, sharing with the cabby my good news.

Definitely not something to try at home…

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