If you’re gonna have sex, make sure he’s a Jew . . . (and other tales of HIV testing)

image by Lanecia Rouse

As an HIV testing specialist, I often hear some of the darnedest things whenever I ask people if they’ve had their recommended annual HIV screening yet. I hinted at them in a letter I wrote to “Stigma” a few months back, but my coworkers and I really get a kick out of some of the things we hear, so I thought I’d share them here.

And, believe it or not, I’m not joking or exaggerating about these:

HER: Weeeeelllll . . . I’ll take one . . . Oh, but wait! Where are you from?
ME: Ummm . . . I grew up in South Carolina.
HER: Are you sure?
ME: Ummm . . . yes.
HER: I just want to make sure you’re not from Africa or something putting voodoo on that stick.
ME: Hmmm . . . no ma’am. I don’t know voodoo.

Cue the convulsions and chanting as I did her mouth swab (Ok . . I did exaggerate that part, but I definitely wish I had done that).

+++

HIM: Oh, no no no no. I don’t need a test.
ME: But have you had one before?
HIM: Oh, no no no. I’ve never had an HIV test because I’ve never had HIV.
Crickets.
ME: Well, sir, it’s always good to get a test and know your status for certain, and it’s just a free mouth swab.
HIM: Oh no no no! I know how some people get the flu for a little while when they take the flu shot . . . I don’t want to do anything like that.
ME: Sir, are. you. kidding. me. Are you seriously kidding me? We’re not going to give you HIV for a little while with this voodoo stick.
(ok ok . . . I didn't really say that; I only wish that I had).

+++

HER: Oooohhhh . . . I’ve seen that on CSI before. You’re trying to steal my DNA.

+++

HER: I don’t need a test. I’m not promiscuous.
Meanwhile the young lady sitting next to her has decided there’s no way she can take the test. If she says yes, then everyone will think she is promiscuous.

+++

HER: No, thanks. I’m a Christian. I don't do those kinds of things.
ME: Oh, we test Christians all the time. No worries. And some of them are (gasp!) HIV+ even!
Well, I didn’t gasp, but . . . you know the deal . . . I certainly wish I had.

+++

HER: I’m a mother! And I’ve been married for 13 years! And I believe in God! How dare you come in here and give me an HIV test!”
(slightly paraphrased from my coworker who was yelled at by this married God-fearing woman today)

+++

HIM: Oh, we don’t need tests; Jews and Catholics don’t get HIV.

Awesome.


The moral of this story is, if you’re gonna sleep with someone, clearly Yahweh and Mother Mary are keeping their people in check, so these are your safest bachelors and bachelorettes!

Or maybe the real moral of the story is that everyone has a different sexual story—maybe you are celibate or delaying sex or married to your one sexual partner or have a different sexual partner with each change of underwear. Whatever your story, the story of public health is this: all of us should be tested at least once in our lives, most of us should be tested once each year (yes, even if we’re married, observe the Sabbath or say our Hail Marys regularly) and some of us should be tested every 3-6 months if we participate in high-risk behaviors.

And definitely, if you’re in a setting where someone is promoting HIV testing publicly, never allow any of the above absurd comments to fall from your lips. It does nothing to help get more at-risk populations comfortable with testing, and there’s never a reason to be offended by an HIV test or ignorant about HIV. Simply say, “yes!” It really doesn’t hurt to even get tested again for the sake of public health—especially when there are no needles involved. Or decline if you wish, but do so with respect and say, “but I’m really glad that you offer this free test. It’s important for everyone to know his or her status.”

And HIV knows no race, gender, age, socio-econimic level or religious affiliation, despite popular (or should I say questionable?) belief.

If there are any other HIV testers out there reading this, I’d love to hear some of the interesting things you’ve heard before . . .

love well . . .

I have one intention for my life right now: that I might love well.

And this intention is larger than I could imagine, but I'm excited about what it will mean. I will love the people I love well. I will love people who make my head pound and force my eyes to roll well. I will love my writing well. I will love the earth well. I will love my body well. I will love God and God's people well. And I will be open to whatever ways God may call me to love well . . .

As you can see, this is quite a life intention. I will need enormous amounts of accountability. I am grateful to be surrounded by beautiful, honest people who love me even when I don't love well (and I have been a poor lover more often than not). Thank you, my loves! Please keep inspiring me and holding me accountable.

My lastest joys for practicing some good loving:

Water. Water is life. And I'm drinking a lot more of life these days, and life is yummy. I'm not a fan of NYResolutions, but I guess this is the closest to one that I've made. So I upped the water ante a couple of weeks ago, and I can tell a difference already.

Yoga Journal. Such a good magazine with health tips, life tips and a greater understanding of the practice. I'm trying the 21-day challenge to commit to a home practice. Delightful.

Namaste. It's a Sanskrit word that basically means that the divine that dwells within me recognizes and honors the divine that dwells within you. We say this at the end of yoga practices, but I have better days when I think of namaste throughout my day. And I consider it a most loving of greetings. Would that we all might see and greet our Creator in our neighbors before anything else.

Miss Ruby. Our friend Miss Ruby is the most loving person I know. Her latest favorite song is "Say Hey" by Michael Franti & Spearhead. I'm pretty sure this is because every 30 seconds or so you get to repeat, "I love you," several times (and it's a good rhythm, and Miss Ruby loves good rhythms so that we can dance). She consoles people who seem sad. She laughs loudly. She watches the news and calls on "Jesus" when she hears of shootings and hardships. She says "I love you" as often as she can to as many people as she can, and I love that about her. She loves well.

CrazySexyLife. I stumbled across this site from a Facebook ad (I know . . . FB is so good at what it does). And this Kris Carr seems infectious. Great blog name, for starters. And let's not ignore her website's tagline: "a super disco of health, spiritual wealth and happiness!" Yes. And with increasing weight and blood pressure, I just got orders from the doctor to change some parts of my lifestyle. While I avoid diets (because the word "die" is in it for a reason), I think I like Carr's approach to lifestyle change. I just might be buying the book and love my body well.

Common Prayer. Liturgy at its finest. Written by three people I call friends. I'm struggling with church and all of its complexities these days. But I'm always a lover of liturgy. And this book helps me to love Christ well. Thanks, my sister, for gifting it to me. [There's a good web site, too, for daily practice: Common Prayer]

Writing. My first true love. And instead of critiquing it, I'm practicing silencing the editor and loving it back. And this is actually harder than I could imagine. But it hurts so good.

In his Ode Magazine article "Standing Barefoot Before God," Rabbi Rami writes, "write what you know and keep at it until you at last realize you don't know much and what you do know is terrifyingly trite and stupefyingly boring." And he basically encourages writers to let writing strip us bare. Yes. Stripped and naked and vulnerable--these are the places where God's light shines, where honesty can't help but dance, where words we are too afraid to say reveal themselves in crazy/beautiful madness.

That's all for today.

love well.

C

Health Journaling

I'm starting a health journal. I write about it because I probably need a bit of accountability with it. I'm great at journaling when it's non-required. Knowing that I have a health journal to feed regularly feels a bit like an assignment.

But it's a much-needed assignment. I have chosen to manage my asthma without the daily medicine prescribed when I was diagnosed last April. It has gone fairly well. For the most part, I've used the prescribed rescue inhaler only a few times in the year . . . until the past two weeks. Just like last year at this time, these last two weeks have been difficult. I've had a mild asthma attack every day for the last week and have relied on my inhaler more than I would like. I need this health journal to help me remember a few things:

Triggers. I've learned that certain foods trigger asthma attacks. I tried some Chick-fil-A fries the other day, and I was wheezing within 10 minutes. Not fair! Bread an butter do this, as well. So does mile 6 of my hula-hooping. I don't need anything except my tight chest and coughing to let me know what mile I'm on when I'm on the journey. So there are some definite triggers, and I want to record all of them.


Asthma plan. I need to carry an asthma plan on me at all times and let the people I am with the most know that it's on me and in this nifty little book. That way, in case I'm having a hard time communicating, they will know exactly what to do. I realize that choosing to do this medicine-free may have a few risks, so I need to carry the plan.

Water. Water is a life force. And I can definitely tell that it helps my asthma, and I just feel better in general when I drink it. So I could use the book to make sure I'm getting my daily allotment (because I certainly don't choose to drink water naturally).

Exercise. I need to make sure I'm getting my good workouts at least 5 days a week. I believe that it will help my immune system build stronger. And, let's face it, I'm getting older. No time like the present to really care for this body of mine!

And so let the journaling (and accountability) begin! I have this cute 60-70% recycled journal made by greenroom, so I hope it will motivate me. I'll take a photo of it and add it later.

peace.