Spin the Wheel.

I had my first HIV test in several years last week.

The seminal rite of passage for "Generation X".

It started with a dream. Nope strike that. It started with a boy. The good thing and bad thing about new relationships is they tend to bring up feelings and issues from old relationships. My last relationship went on about 7 years-ish off and on, We broke up after my lack of compassion and forgiveness in regards to him cheating on me...again. Silly me to ignore the obvious, the word "mono" in monogamy means one. As in one person is monogamous.

Bitter party of one your table is ready...

So after a few years of therapy in the form of spinning deep house music, friends lending sympathetic ears and moderate binge drinking, I manage to meet a new guy, an incredible new guy, but that story comes later...

A few weeks into our relationship he walks from my shop to the local clinic to get his HIV test. After an hour of nervous freaking out on my part, he comes back with a smile. He's negative. Great! Awesome! Hooray!

FUCK!

Now its my turn. Confront the past, get closure, and move on with my life. I put it off for another week or so and one Tuesday morning I woke up from a dream. All I remember is I was talking to a priest, or something like a priest in a church. Or something like a church. The church was all shades of gold and accented with gilt. or guilt. Probably both. The priest was in a gold frock with a tapestry of ornate gold embroidery around his neck, we were sitting on the pew having a conversation, although I don't remember ever hearing him speak. I figured in some weird "the universe is unfolding exactly as it should" way, me talking to the priest was a symbol for me to go ahead and take the test. I mean if your freaking out about the possibility of dying from a deadly disease I would hope a discussion with a priest or reasonable facsimile thereof would help, right? So I decided to google the testing hours from the clinic a short walk from my shop, the one that Jeff went to. I thought to myself "If they test today before you have to be at work, your going to do it." I looked at the hours and as I discovered testing was offered Tuesday and Thursday from 9 a.m. until 7 p.m. The computer clock read 9:02

FUCK!

I immediately tried to stave off the panic attack that was rapidly ensuing. I decided a good old fashioned sing a long would get me through. Something upbeat and positive, like "wig in a box" from Hedwig. I put it on repeat, hopped in the shower and tried to stop my mind from racing. What if I came back positive? Was it really the end of the world? Would it really change everything? Hell yes it would. Would I immediately begin dying? Had I already begun dying? God this sucked. I parked in the lot at my store, and walked over to the clinic, stopping to pick up a cup of coffee on the way. (If I was going to plan my funeral this morning I needed caffeine.)I got buzzed in to the clinic and started to to fill out the paperwork. I sat down and waited. Out comes the person to administer the test, and it's one of my clients. A cool client. She took me back and explained to me how the cheek swab worked. (Its alot like a pregnancy test, except instead of peeing on it, you rub it on your gums, one line means your cool, two means you've got some explaining to do.) I swabbed my cheek, she set the timer for 20 minutes and proceed to ask me questions about my sexual history.

I opened my mouth and vomited every neurosis I ever had in regards to my sexual behavior and health all over her and the room. In hindsight I wish recorded it, I bet it was hysterical. I think it went a bit like this.

ME: [Fast forward past gay sex] "Is it cooked yet?"

TA: "8 minutes left."

ME: "Looking good?"

TA: "Looking good."

ME: (Fast forward past more gay sex) "Is it cooked yet?"

TA: "4 minutes left."

ME: "Looking good?"

TA: "Still good."

ME: (insert story of how I met Jeff here)

TA: "Its been 22 minutes and everything looks good." "Your negative."

[Cue Hallelujah chorus]

I took a picture of the test. I sent it to Jeff, my mom, my sister, my counter person, my best friend and coworker, and another couple of friends. (I have an awesome support system, what can I say? I am blessed.)

TA: "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

ME: "You can give me some condoms so I can go home and bang my boyfriend." (Classy, I know, but if you heard what I disclosed while waiting for my test results, you would think this to be mild. Its amazing how many boundaries and taboos you can break in 22 minutes.)

I headed back to the shop with a smile on my face and started my day. Over the next week or so I candidly discussed with several friends of all sexual preferences (or lack thereof) how they felt about getting the test. Every single one of them responded the same way. Every single one of them was terrified. Every single one. Straight, Gay, Queer, Undecided, all were terrified. That speaks volumes.. Everyone was convinced the minute they took the test, they were positive. Just like I did.

Would a positive response be the end of the world? Not really.

Would it make things difficult? Of course it would.

Do millions of people deal with it every day? Sure do.

Do I have to deal with it? Not anymore.
Not until next time.