Subscribe to our RSS feed

Popular News Stories

  • Tom Hanks in Philadelphia Changed my Life
  • Canadian AIDS Society’s AGM and PHA Forum in Ottawa: some scholarships for HIVers available
  • Semen goes viral – or does it?

Newly Diagnosed

Apr23

Newly living with HIV, Josh Robbins is "Still Josh" -- and still an advocate: part three

Tuesday, 23 April 2013 Categories // Activism, Gay Men, Youth, Newly Diagnosed, Health, Treatment, Living with HIV, Population Specific , Revolving Door, Guest Authors

The third and final part of an interview with young AIDS activist Josh Robbins who famously captured receiving his positive tests results on a tape published on YouTube.

 Newly living with HIV, Josh Robbins is

This article from This Positive Life by Warren Tong first appeared on TheBody.com here.

How did you find your HIV physician?

The vaccine program that I've been talking about at Vanderbilt, they're really connected with Nashville CARES. As a small business owner, I'd really supported all the events that the organization does every year; I've always been involved in that. I didn't ever think that I'd be a client.

I went over there, and they gave me a list of people; and then I just called around. And I found a doctor. It's been amazing. I think that the physician is kind, is warm, and is also very knowledgeable.

Little things: They said that there's more studies going on about just the neuroscience kind of stuff that goes on with your brain right after you get HIV. I remember during that amount of time, through January and half of February, that there were times I couldn't even remember conversations that I just had. And so there was a short-term memory kind of loss. My physician was able to talk to me about that. Because that's an area where more research is being done. She's always traveling to these conferences, and that sort of thing.

It's been awesome. I have a fantastic doctor! She's understanding, patient, informative, motivating and the best choice for me for treatment. At one of the visits -- you know, when I got to 550 -- I was really aching to discuss treatment. Based on the current numbers, I have made the personal decision not to begin medication -- however, I am also involved in a couple clinical trials that allow me to have access monthly to my viral load and CD4 numbers. Based on this participation and the volume of real-time numbers, I am comfortable making the decision to choose a path that is right for me.

But my hope is that they come out with like a once-a-week kind of pill at some point, because I'm absolutely terrible, even about taking a multivitamin every day. So I've been trying to do better. My physician has given me an exercise, to try to take a multivitamin every day at the same time. She's trying to prep me for when I have to start taking meds. But I'm just hoping that the longer that we wait, as long as my health is OK, or stable, that something new will come out.

How do you think you'll deal with adherence, once you do start treatment?

One thing that I have been real honest about, with all my physicians, is that I am a drinker. I like to have drinks when I go out a couple times a week. I've always been nervous that if I'm supposed to take a pill at 11 and I'm out till 3, whether I'm going to remember when I get home, or when that has to happen. I know there's tons of different little options, and different ways to do it.

But it's just going to be a commitment, once I'm at a position where I need to take medication. I've always been like that. I've never wanted to take any kind of medicine unless I just absolutely had to. But once I'm at that point that I'm going to have to, then it's just going to be a change of priorities. Then I'm just going to make it happen. So I'll probably use every one of those tools.

What do you do to keep healthy?

I eat healthy. I was smoking a pack of cigarettes a day. I've really cut back those. I'm not like a Nazi about it, where I won't ever have a cigarette. I'll have one if I'm out with somebody. But that was really an important discussion with my physician -- that I needed to quit smoking. So that was something that I did. And we discussed openly about me and my drinking. Then they were looking at my blood, and my liver, and making sure everything with that is fine.  

Also, knowing when to say no. If I'm tired -- and there were times that, within that six-month period, I was just kind of tired, and worn out from life. Before I was infected, I would just keep going and keep going. I wouldn't really take care of myself in that way. Now I've really learned how to say no. So if I can't do something, or if I just don't feel like it, for whatever reason, then it's a no.

I know everyone says exercising is important. But I'm not someone that is ever going to go to a gym; it's just always awkward for me to go to a gym. So I'll run. Or it's little things. Like, I live on the fifth floor of my condo, and so I don't take the elevator. I do the stairs.

I don't know if that answers your question. But there's no magic thing, I guess. That's what I'm doing. And I feel good. So . . .

That's good. Little tips here and there always help.

Well, I also think that a lot of what I've gone through is mental, you know? I decided how I was going to attack this disease. I decided how I was going to tell people. And I did it on my terms. Little things used to really bother me. I'm one of those people where everything can bother me. But since January 2012 I just don't let that stuff bother me, you know? If I can't change it then I can't worry about it. So I think that's part of it, too.

I've stayed really connected with things that really encourage me. I love Steve Jobs, so I was reading his book and his quotes. Getting involved with other people online through social media, just talking to them or checking up on them, and that sort of thing -- kind of investing, virtually through the Internet, in some other people's lives, to just check up on them and see how they're doing. It kind of took the focus a little bit off me and made it more about, you know, this is a crusade for everyone that is going through this.

A large part of the reason why I feel I'm doing OK is the way that I just decided to think about things and be positive. I've always laughed when everybody says, "Stay positive," because I'm always, like "Well, I am positive." But now I just said it!

Let's talk about your work. What kind of work do you do?

I'm a talent agent. I own a talent agency in Nashville. I deal with actors and hosts, children and their parents, for television, film, commercials, music videos, print jobs, that kind of thing.

How did you become involved in HIV? You mentioned doing prevention work before your diagnosis. How did you become involved in HIV activism?

Someone doing outreach about the HIV vaccine program approached me at an event at a bar. I really wanted to do it. Before that, there was a well-known female impersonator in town that passed away, and her name was Bianca. Mark Middleton was his name, and the personality was Bianca.

But she was HIV-positive and she was very, very vocal about prevention and the disease. When she passed away, I got my company involved with her memorial. Doing that really got me connected with people that were very sincere and honest and hardworking, when it came to activism and awareness. That's kind of how it started.

And then at one of those events, I saw information about the vaccine study. They said that they needed HIV-negative people that had sex with guys. And in my way, I was thinking, oh, this is so fantastic. This is my way to give back. So I got involved with the study.

From there I started doing some outreaches with them, looking for other volunteers. But I'm actually really glad that I got involved with the vaccine. I want to say this, because some people may wonder: With the HIV vaccine being studied, obviously, it's not a live virus. There's zero chance to get HIV from the vaccine. The way that I got HIV, even though I was in the vaccine study, was because I was exposed to it.

But once I got involved with that, and then Nashville CARES, and helping them raise funds and that sort of thing, I really fell in love with it. Whether people think that it's God or another power or whatever, I really think that it was orchestrated at the right time. Because I really got passionate about it at the same time that it happened to me.

I'd thought I was invincible. Other people have told me that, specifically: "Josh, we never thought this would happen to you. If it can happen to you, then it can happen to me." And that's kind of been their attitude -- which was surprising at first. But when I sat back and thought about it, it's absolutely true. I felt invincible. And so all of that year that I was involved in prevention and activism and that kind of stuff, it really prepared me to be able to tell my story and, now, raise money.

The last couple months I've been involved with some amazing fundraising people. And I'm proud. We've raised a lot of money in the past couple months for Nashville CARES.

Do you ever get sick of thinking or talking about HIV, or do you think you will?

I think I did. I went through a month in the beginning, to be honest, where every week I was doing something related to HIV or awareness or a doctor's office or something. And so in May of last year I kind of got a little tired. And so I just kind of stepped back a little bit. I didn't post any blog, and kind of stayed off Twitter, and even my Facebook.

Now, looking back at that, it was fine for me. It was a little selfish, I guess. What I'm doing is -- and what we're talking about, all of us -- is so much bigger than any individual person or any of our individual stories. We've just got to keep going and keep talking about it. Because the more we talk about it, the easier it becomes to be talked about.

What do you think are the biggest issues that need fixing in HIV today?

One, I think that HIV is not a "one disease fits all." I think there are regional things to think about. I think that people that live out West, in San Francisco, potentially deal with different issues than someone with HIV in Tennessee. I think that that needs to be approached.

After the pastor wrote me that unpleasant email, it really started making me think, why in the South are we having an epidemic, but we also have the highest number of churches? So there's a tremendous opportunity that is being missed in churches with a captive crowd, if you say, to talk about HIV or STDs [sexually transmitted diseases], or any of that. Some churches are against contraceptives or prevention, I guess. My church that I grew up in wasn't. They were OK with birth control and condoms. But they never talked about sex or disease, or any of that.

And so I think the first thing is to look regionally, maybe, at potential issues. And that's what I've been kind of looking at. I can't speak for anyone else in the country, except, you know, Nashville, or the South, really. Here, the stigma is very strong, still. And I was nervous about that.  

Because we're not talking about it enough, in my opinion, in the South -- HIV and prevention and even early on in schools, besides mixed in with every other STD that you can get -- what I think that it's doing is that it's making it harder to talk about later. When I was growing up, I don't really ever remember talking about HIV or STDs, beyond the one day in health class.

And the way to combat stigma: I was sitting in a group therapy, right after I was infected. Maybe I was a little bit green, and maybe the gentlemen that were in there who have had HIV for years, maybe they were a little bit jaded. But in that group therapy that I was in we talked about stigma. And they kept bringing up stigma, that it's so terrible and hard.

And then I just asked a simple question, but it really was a little bit of an epiphany to me before I released my blog. They said the stigma was so bad. And so my follow-up was, well, what have you guys done to combat it? What have you done to fix it? And almost everyone in the room said that they hadn't told anyone that they had HIV. Again, understand some people -- maybe a majority of people -- can't disclose it. I get it. With me, I could.

What was just an epiphany to me: The only way to attack stigma is to talk about HIV, and to talk about it in its face, and show that it's OK. And so those two things, the regional thing and really just keep on talking about HIV, because by doing that, it will become a little more accepted -- not accepted that you want to get it, or that it's OK that people have HIV, but that it's not a death sentence, and that we're not the scum of the earth because we have HIV.

Could you compare how you felt about having HIV when you were first diagnosed, as opposed to now? How has it changed?

I think it has changed. Right after I found out, I was very scared of what people would think. I knew that it wasn't a death sentence and that I would get on the medicine and that though my life expectancy may be shorter than if I was negative, that I would live a long, great life. But I was scared about if someone would love me, and I was scared about what people would say about me.

Right after that, I made a decision that if someone wouldn't love me romantically because of that, that I was OK with that. And I really meant that. I would rather talk about it, about this disease, and attack the stigma, than worry if someone is going to love me, or want to be with me the rest of my life. Because I will be fine.

But coming now, several months later, I respect and I understand the disease a lot more. So my attitude toward that has changed. The thoughts that have started going through my mind now are, you know, disclosure. Why is disclosing or not a criminal act? My mind has just started going down that road. It's not something that I'm going to focus on, but it's just starting to get into the sub-issues; after you get over the big issue of having HIV, it's just how to live with it, you know? Knowing when or not to disclose, or why people choose not to.

But I'm not scared for my life like I was right after I found out that I was positive.

How do you think having HIV has changed you?

It has made relationships that I have with people, in general, more important. It's humbled me tremendously. I mean, I was a cocky bastard. Last year and before that, I was a talent agent and was cocky, and cared less about people and more about myself. This disease really humbled me. I couldn't think of anything worse than contracting HIV, before I contracted it. That was the worst thing in my mind that could happen to me, as a gay man. And then when it happened, it was very humbling.

It was humbling to know that I had to reach out to people to help me, that I needed to go to a therapist and that I needed some of those services that Nashville CARES has provided, that I have supported for years but never thought I would use. So it was humbling, in that aspect.

The other thing is that -- and I don't know if you've heard this before, or what -- but after I found out that I was HIV positive, it made my life a lot richer. Things that don't matter do not matter. Little things don't make me go crazy like they used to. Relationships mean the world to me. My family: It got me even closer to them. So in a weird way it kind of refocused my life into being better.

It's really hard to explain and put that to words, but my life is totally different, in the way that I look at people and relationships; and how I even look at myself is a lot different. I mean, it took a while for me to really be OK with looking at myself in the mirror right after I found out that I was positive. I'm OK with that now. And I feel good about myself. 

What advice would you give to someone else who has just found out they are positive?

If they just found out that they're positive: One, that they are the exact same person they were the hour, the day, the year before they found out that they were positive. That they are still them. Now they just have something that is going to make them choose relationships more carefully and, really, how things are going to be valued.

The one suggestion that I would give is find at least one person that you feel that you can trust, and tell them. Don't try to do this by yourself. Whether it's a therapist, or somebody that truly loves you in this moment. Try to find at least one person to tell that you're positive.

Get online, create an anonymous Twitter account, and find other people like me that are able to talk about it, that you can communicate with, and that it's safe. If you email me anonymously then I'm going to respond. And I won't know who you are but you at least start that chat.

Read TheBody.com. Gosh, I've spent hours on the website. Learn as much as you can about HIV.

But the main thing is that you're still you and that the way that you think about yourself is as important as getting treatment for the disease.

Do you have any closing thoughts, or any takeaway messages you want to relay?

Yeah. First, thank you so much for asking me to just chat with you. Everyone knows their own personal story of the moment they found out that they were positive; and maybe they even have stories like mine, where they know the person that infected them, or that exposed them.

But what you guys are doing is simply amazing. And I know that the three weeks when I was not sure if I was positive or not, I did more research than I'd ever done about HIV. And it's websites like you guys' that I came to, and that I learned the information. And I heard other stories, and I was reading about people. And so, thank you. You know? You helped me tons.

That makes me feel very proud. Thank you for the kind words!

Find Josh Robbins on Social Media

Facebook

Twitter

YouTube

Check out Josh's blog at imstilljosh.com!

Apr16

Newly living with HIV, Josh Robbins Is "Still Josh" -- and still an advocate: part two

Tuesday, 16 April 2013 Categories // Activism, Gay Men, Youth, Newly Diagnosed, Health, Treatment, Living with HIV, Population Specific , Revolving Door, Guest Authors

The second part of an interview with young AIDS activist Josh Robbins who famously captured receiving his positive tests results on a tape published on YouTube

Newly living with HIV, Josh Robbins Is

This article from This Positive Life by Warren Tong first appeared on TheBody.com here.

How do you start the conversation with somebody when you're disclosing to them?

Well, for me, it's actually been pretty easy. Because I don't know if I copped out. I mean, I posted it on Facebook, and I have a blog. The blog is now at almost 15,000 views. Then being on the cover of the magazine here, locally. Everyone here, as far as the gays in town, they're all aware. I guess some of them are probably tired of me talking about it.

But there's other things that I had to think about. I have a company and I have a staff, and we have interns and that sort of thing. And so I've made it a decision again -- it's not my legal responsibility -- but I made a decision that I was disclosing to everyone.

You know all the pink stuff, the marketing for breast cancer awareness? Susan G. Komen for the Cure? People walk around and they say stuff like, "I'm a survivor of cancer." Or, my mom -- I've done MS Walks with her. And it's very easy for her to tell people that she has MS. I see it real similar, that it's just a disease that I'm fighting. There's no cure yet, and there's no vaccine that works 100 percent yet. So I'm just on a journey, just like other people; but it just happens to be that what I'm fighting is HIV.

It is so important to me for people, and particularly -- and that's where my heart is -- ifor Nashville, because this is my home; I've lived here for 10 years. So it's so important for other people that have HIV that in any way feel like they're scared or feel less or whatever. I want them to know that they're still the same person, that they're OK, and it's going to be fine. So that is really the bottom line on all of it.

The benefit for me, with the way that I disclosed, and that I've told everyone and I've told them so quickly was that I haven't gone to the bar or to the club or whatever here, and knew that people were talking about me, about something that they haven't heard from me about. So I don't feel uncomfortable going out now. And I'm sure there are people that are going to say things. But I've tried to be honest and I've tried to be transparent.

And some people have called me brave, which I don't think at all. I don't think that what I'm doing, or what I've done and what I'll continue to do, is brave. But if it helps one person or two people here feel like they're OK, then that's enough.

A good example of that is I got a call, a couple of weeks after I released the blog, from someone -- and I couldn't even tell you who it is now -- but they called me. It was a 22-year-old here in my city that had just found out a couple days before they called me that they were HIV positive. And they contemplated committing suicide because of it. And they happened to see someone reposting my blog on Facebook and they read it. Then they felt compelled to call me.

From there, I talked to him for just a few minutes. And he said that because of the blog he decided to tell at least one of his friends, or a couple of his friends. So now he's fine, you know? He didn't commit suicide.

I don't think that I had anything to do with that, except that I know that's what people feel, or that's what people have told me that they have felt immediately. And so if my being able to talk openly about how I contracted it, and what I'm going through, and how I feel, and all those things, if that helps other people then it's worth it to me. Because I'm in a position where I can, you know? I have a strong support group around me. My family means the world to me, and they're OK.

I don't think you give yourself enough credit. It sounds like you saved that boy's life. Would you say that's the best response you've gotten from sharing your status?

It's funny, but I have been flooded with different stories of people. And so some of the best responses to me are people that have been living with this disease for 15 years or 20 years, and they come and say, "Thank you. I haven't been in a position where I could really talk about it like you, but thank you. It makes me feel a little bit more normal at least." Just as a whole, that's the stuff that feels good.

But there have also been a couple of bad things. I got a really nasty e-mail from a previous pastor. He told me everything that he thought about why I got the disease, and how I'm living with it, and all that stuff.

Then, you know, there's thedirty.com, which is a funny website. Somebody posted something not pretty about me on there, basically saying that I'm trying to get fame from this, or monetize this. And that's not the case at all. I haven't made any money from talking about my status, and I wouldn't.

But all that is to say that there's good and bad, but the great things have far outweighed any negative that could ever come at me.

What did your youth pastor say to you, and how did you react?

Basically what happened is that I released the blog, and then the pastor saw the blog and sent me a very long email, basically saying that it's unfortunate that I contracted the disease, that he saw the disease as a direct result of me living a sinful lifestyle from my sexuality, and that God really wants to love me, and so I need to repent and turn away from all of this stuff. Just a religious rant. But the hard part for the email was that it was really tied in with some things that were very personal to me that he really used as weapons -- the fact that I had been molested as a kid, and the fact that the pastor's oldest brother passed away from HIV, and that sort of thing.

He was trying to do exactly what he thought was right, which was to email me and tell me that I'm wrong and that I'm sinful. Although I disagree, adamantly, with every theology that he discusses in the email that he sent to me, I really truly believe that his heart was in a place where he thought he was doing the right thing. So I don't hate him or despise him, but I did respond to him via a blog.

I basically just told him that HIV was not a result of God being angry at me, and that eventually I would be in heaven and that I'm OK.

I did rebuke him a little bit, in a nice way. I told him that this was the absolutely wrong email to ever send to someone that's recently infected, and especially someone that's recently infected and then trying to talk about it in hopes of decreasing stigma and also furthering the discussion of prevention in others. This is totally the wrong tone. And so I responded in that way. But I haven't directly spoken or had a conversation at all with that pastor. And I don't really want to.

He sent me the email but I responded to him in the only way that I knew how at the moment, which was via my blog. But I did disguise his identity so hopefully he hasn't gotten any hate mail, or anything.

But, you know, it was totally the absolutely wrong thing to ever say to someone, particularly someone that's recently infected.

Let's talk a little bit about dating and relationships. Has being positive affected your dating life or your sex life at all?

During the three weeks that I was waiting on my results, that constantly came over my mind. I was absolutely scared that I would never be loved again. I felt that maybe that the gays in my town would think that I was used goods. I had already come out of the closet about sexuality, and that had limited the people that would want to date me. And then now that I'm HIV positive I was like, wow, that even makes the pool even smaller. Because I thought that only someone that was HIV positive would even want to date someone, you know, like me. I was real nervous about that.

The other thing that was really hard is that during the middle of finding out, I had met someone that I hadn't been intimate with, but I'd seen him out several times, and was really kind of digging this guy. And the thought of having to tell him that I was positive: I just knew that he would run away. So I was kind of preparing myself for that. 

I didn't actually call him and tell him that I was positive. We hadn't have sex or anything like that, and so I didn't have to tell him anything. But he is a friend of mine on a social media; and so when I released the blog on my Facebook, he saw it. And he actually called me and he said that he wanted to see me. And I said OK. We met, and he told me that it was OK.

I think the coolest thing that could ever happen for someone that is positive is if someone that is negative just wants to date them. I think that is the coolest thing, and one of the bravest things, in the middle of all this. With that said, of course dating and relationships and that kind of stuff is overwhelming. I mean, when do you disclose to someone? Do you get them to really start liking you before you tell them? Or do you tell them from the very beginning, when they have absolutely zero invested? I don't know. I think that's a question that keeps going. 

Obviously, I've researched and looked online. There are tons of people that only want to hook up with someone that is DDF (or disease-and-drug-free); they would never want to date somebody that was positive. I've seen stuff online, blogs and forums where people are saying that positive people should only date positive people so it will quit happening. That was something that I was really concerned about. It was a decision that I had to make, because I didn't know how he would react, or anyone else would react. But I decided I was OK with being alone the rest of my life if I could talk, if I could tell my story, and if I could in some way decrease the stigma and then further the discussion of prevention. That was more important. And so I had to be OK with that. But it worked out really well for me. So I'm dating somebody that I've been dating for over a year now.

We've already established that on top of that, you also have a very close and supportive family. Did your relationships with them change at all after you disclosed to them?

The only thing that changed was that the first several weeks after I told them that I was positive, they wore me out with phone calls and text messages, asking how I was and how I was feeling, and that sort of thing. So it was appreciated, but I finally had to tell my family: "Listen, you don't always call me every day anyway. So you still be you, and I'm still me. We can talk; but you don't need to ask me every day how I'm feeling, and if things are OK. Because I'm fine." But besides that -- which is, obviously, appreciated -- my family really rose to the occasion and have been amazing supporters for me.

That's wonderful. Can you tell me a little bit about your background? Where did you grow up?

I grew up in West Tennessee, in a small town called Jackson. It's between Memphis and Nashville. A lot of people know Jackson for one reason, really: My hometown has gotten hit by tornadoes a lot.

It's a very small conservative town. I never hooked up or anything in my hometown; that would have been way too weird and that sort of thing.

When did you tell your family that you were gay?

I moved to New York right after high school, to go to an acting school. That was the first time that I had voluntarily had sex with a guy -- a terrible experience, by the way -- then I moved back.

I kind of dated a couple people after I moved to Nashville for college. I first told my sister, when I was around 24, that I was gay. And she was fine with it. I hadn't told my mom and stepdad, or my stepmom or my dad, yet.

So I went home one Christmas the year after I told my sister. My mom, again, has MS. We were in the bathroom, and she was getting ready or something. She asked me, "Are you dating anyone? Because I never hear you talk about anyone." And I kind of smiled, and I said, "Yes."

And she said, "OK. Well, do you want to tell me about it?" I started telling her about it. But it was very generic; but still, to me, it was obvious that it was about a guy. So I thought I had come out to my mom.

So she would call me for the next six months, and we would talk about the person that I was dating. But I didn't realize: Because of her medicine she was on, she didn't remember that conversation, and she didn't realize that I'd come out to her. And so for six months, we had talked on the phone and she would ask about whoever I was dating. But it would always be, you know, "How is your friend So-and-So?" And so I just assumed she just wanted to call him friend, which was fine. But she really thought it was a friend.

There was a day that I realized absolutely that it wasn't clear to her that I was gay. And so I had to come out to my mom a second time, which is funny.

How I came out to my dad is, I had called my stepmom. I told her. And I told her to tell Dad. An hour later he called me and asked me if I needed to tell him anything. And I said, "Nope. You probably know everything."

He said, in his Southern way -- he's a fisherman; he's a tire salesman -- the nicest thing that he could say was: "You could kill someone and I'd still welcome you into my house." Which makes other people laugh; but that's totally my dad's character. So I knew it would be OK.

But since that time my sister has come to visit; I've taken her out to the gay bars and she obviously has met who I was dating and that sort of thing. My dad and my stepmom: I convinced him to let me take them to a drag show, and to the gay bar. And they know who I'm dating, and who I've dated. My mom is the same way. It's awesome, because it's completely open.

The one thing that's cool now is that my mom sent me a text the other day saying Obama is backing gay marriage. And I was, like, "Yeah. That's really cool."

And she said, "Yeah."

And so I sent her a text message -- something like, "So, are you ready to walk your son down the aisle one day?"

And she replied back: "Absolutely." Which was just a cool text to see from my family. But, yeah. I'm completely out of the closet about my sexuality and, I guess, my status.

When did you know you were gay, yourself? And was that difficult?

It's always a funny question to think through. I remember when I was a kid, and I don't know the age -- 5 seems to be the right one to say -- but I remember playing with the neighbors, the little boy next door; I remember kissing him. And that obviously is not what other kids do.

But also, we lived in a small town. I had girlfriends, and I really liked them. But it wasn't ever where I wanted to go home and sleep with them, or anything. You know, we were just friends, I guess.

What I explained earlier about when I was younger and was molested: That was when I was older. I was, like, 10, or 11, or 12, or something like that. It was a family member. But as far as knowing I was attracted to guys, it was early on. I remember kissing that boy.

Do you want to talk about the molestation at all?

I'm really OK with it now. It was a situation where it was a family member and I was told that this is what guys do, you know, when they're older. And so when I say molested, there wasn't ever anything violent or anything like that. But I absolutely was taken advantage of as a young person. And that should not ever happen by an adult, obviously.

But in the same instance, although I've kind of blocked those circumstances a little bit, the fact was, moving forward, that I don't think that that had any influence on me being attracted to guys.

Do you know what happened to that family member?

No. I told my family and my sister, and then there was a kind of division that happened in the family because of that. Years after -- I think I was 18 when I finally told them what had happened -- there was a lot of anger. I talked everybody down. I said, "I'm really the only one that has the right to be mad, and I'm not mad. I'm fine. And that's that."

The thing is -- I don't want to give too much information -- that some families have uncles that aren't legal yet. So they may be 10 years older, or something. But it wasn't like a fully grown adult.

There was nothing else that needed to happen. I'm completely fine with it. I've forgiven him. I mean, I'm not going to go to dinner with him, probably. I don't go to extended family reunions, anyway.

Let's talk about health care and treatment. What has your health been like since your diagnosis?

January was a total wash for me. I was completely sick, and not feeling great. I finally saw a doctor on Valentine's Day. The reason why my viral load was so high at the beginning, readers may or may not know, is because I found out so soon. It's been remarkable -- and those are the words that physicians have used -- being able to really track my process and my progress, particularly because of the vaccine study. They've had my blood work and have been viewing everything when I was negative, through seroconversion, all the way through now being four or five months into being infected.

It's been interesting. I've had; every two weeks or so, I've had CD4 counts and viral loads, which is way more information that I would ever suggest anyone ever have. But that's just the way that it's worked out between doctor visits or vaccine visits. My viral load came down, and it's come down even more.

I have made the decision right now, in consultation with my HIV specialist, to not begin medication, as my viral load (at last test) was 1,102 and my CD4 count is 730, with great percentages.  

It's important to understand that although I am not on medication, that I consider myself in therapy and in treatment. This discussion of being "on" therapy and "on" treatment leaves out a very attentive, concerned and responsible group of individuals -- like myself -- that, at the given moment, are not taking HIV meds.

Deciding which medication, if any, that I will choose at the exact moment that I feel is best for me, personally, is just that: a personal medication decision I will make based on my body and health, consultation with my doctor, and the current information and research that appears to apply to me. I'm not a one-type-fits-everyone kinda guy. But just because I'm not on medication, doesn't mean I am not taking this as seriously as others.

To be continued . . . 

Find Josh Robbins on Social Media

Facebook

Twitter

YouTube

Check out Josh's blog at imstilljosh.com!

 

Apr09

Newly living With HIV, Josh Robbins Is "Still Josh" -- and still an advocate: part one

Tuesday, 09 April 2013 Written by // Guest Authors - Revolving Door Categories // Activism, Social Media, Gay Men, Youth, Newly Diagnosed, Living with HIV, Population Specific , Revolving Door, Guest Authors

The first part of an interview with young AIDS activist Josh Robbins who famously captured receiving his positive tests results on a tape published on YouTube.

Newly living With HIV, Josh Robbins Is

This article from This Positive Life by Warren Tong first appeared on TheBody.com here. 

Josh Robbins was already an HIV advocate in Nashville, Tenn., when he was himself diagnosed with HIV in January 2012. He'd supported local HIV organizations' events as a small-business owner, and was even part of an HIV vaccine study. Then a brief unprotected sexual encounter put him on the other side of his advocacy activities. "I needed some of those services that Nashville CARES has provided, that I have supported for years but never thought I would use," Josh recalls. Because he was in a vaccine study beforehand, he's been in HIV care practically since the day he became positive -- and he's been open about his HIV status for almost as long, even videotaping his diagnosis appointment for YouTube. "I don't think that what I'm doing, or what I've done and what I'll continue to do, is brave," he says; "But if it helps one person or two people here feel like they're OK, then that's enough." In this interview, Josh opens up about disclosure, stigma, growing up gay in the U.S. South -- and befriending the man from whom he acquired HIV.

***************** 

Josh, welcome to This Positive Life.

Well, thank you. I've been looking forward to it.

Can you start by describing how you found out you were HIV positive?

Yeah, absolutely. I had unprotected sex on December 18, 2011. We started with a condom and then the condom came off. I really didn't think that we were going to really continue, or go back into anal intercourse. And then things got hot and heavy again. So we had unprotected sex for about five minutes. And that's not a stretch. I mean, it was really just, like, five minutes.

He didn't get off, actually. There was a knock on my door, so we had to end it quickly. One of my really good friends stopped by and needed to talk. He had some things going on. And so it was kind of an end-it-and-that's-it. So that was on December the 18th.

I really didn't honestly think a whole lot about it.

And then on Jan. 2, 2012, I started getting really sick, kind of like the flu-like symptoms that they talk about. I had a fever, chills, just didn't feel good. I really just thought I had the flu. So the next day on the 3rd I went to one of those doctor-in-the-box type things, one of those urgent cares. They thought that I just had some kind of flu-like thing going on. They didn't know what it was; they just gave me some cough medicine for my throat, because my throat was really hurting.

I came home. Still felt terrible. And the next morning I woke up and had, like, 30 sores in my mouth. Again, I wasn't thinking about HIV at all. I kind of got mad, and I called my mom and my sister. And my mom and sister both worked at hospitals, my mom as an RN. They immediately thought that I obviously just had an allergic reaction to whatever the medicine was.

I went back to the doctor two days after that. The doctor came in and looked at everything, and reviewed his notes. He left the room and he came back in with a nurse and he said, "We need to talk about your high-risk behavior." And it kind of hit me right then. In my gut, I knew that it was HIV.

They wanted to test me there but they couldn't, because I'd been involved in an HIV vaccine study here in Nashville. I was very active in our community, as far as talking about prevention. But I was still kind of oblivious to it. I told them that I couldn't get tested at that office, which they didn't take too kindly to, because they really wanted to test me for that.

I had to call the HIV vaccine program because I was a volunteer and I could only be tested there. I had to go in. And then, from going in to the vaccine study program, till I finally got the results, which was January 24, that was like three weeks or so. So I actually found out from the medical professionals at the hospital that I'd been doing the vaccine trial with.

It sounds like you were practicing safer sex that entire time, and this was a slip-up.

Yeah, I think that it was. I mean, there had been other times that I trusted someone, or asked them their status, and I knew them. What I'd been really focused on in 2011, specifically because of the vaccine program, was not allowing my trust in someone and me judging their character to be the factor of whether I wanted to have protected or unprotected sex with them. That was something that I was working on in 2011. And so with him, it was a slip-up.

How old were you at the time?

Well, my birthday was January 12, so in the middle of feeling sick and doing my first test, and then my second test, and then my third test with my vaccine program, my birthday was dead in the center. So I was 28 at first and then halfway through that three-week process I had my 29th birthday.

You filmed yourself getting the test; is that right?

Yeah. That week after I came back from the doctor-in-a-box that said I was showing symptoms of acute HIV syndrome -- it was on a Friday -- I couldn't get into the vaccine program to meet with them until Monday. So I was sick, not feeling good, and on top of that, I knew in my gut that I had contracted HIV. 

During that two-and-a-half to three-week process of me finally getting what the final result was of this test, I started writing and videoing just little things, how I felt at the moment. The reason why I did that was because I didn't want to forget it. I didn't want to forget how I felt. In the unlikely case that I got out lucky, and it was just the flu, or something, I wanted to remember what I felt like then, and how everything kind of flashed before me.

When I went in on the 24th, when I got my final result of being positive, I did video. And then when I went in the actual room, I just audio-recorded it. And the reason why I did that was simply because I didn't want to forget what they said. If it was a positive result, number one: At that time I didn't know one person that had ever told me that they were HIV positive. Number two: I also knew that as soon as they said that I was HIV positive that I would forget anything else they said. And so I did it for that purpose -- so that I could listen back to what they said; but also because I wanted to hear those words again.

A couple weeks after I got that result and I hadn't really told anybody, then I went back and listened. And I heard how powerful it was from an outsider's perspective. So I decided to put it online in a little short video clip on YouTube. (see below)

When they told you that you were positive, what did you think, and how did you feel?

The staff and the medical professionals at the Vanderbilt HIV vaccine study are so caring and so honest and gracious. One of the guys that's kind of over the program that I'm in was prepping me; and we really had an open dialogue. I told him that my gut said that I had been infected. During that three-week process, he started going down the road of, well, what does this mean? He started talking to me about viral loads and CD4 counts. Then I started doing a lot of research, because I had no idea what he was talking about.

When I walked in on the 24th to get the results . . . again, I knew in my gut what the result would be. What I was surprised about was the viral load. I don't know. For some reason, in my mind, 175,000 is what I expected. Now that I know what I know, it's just funny that I even thought that. But 175,000 was what I expected. So when he said that I had a positive viral load, he followed that sentence up with that my viral load was at 5.5 million. That was a shock for me. It was a real big shock.

What was the first thing that you did to help you come to terms with your diagnosis?

I had already made a decision. I'm really close with my family. I have a mom, a stepdad, my father, and my stepmom. And then I have a sister and two stepbrothers. But I've known them my whole life and so they're like my brothers. My family as a whole has been through a lot in the past couple years. My dad had a seizure, almost died. My sister had carbon monoxide poisoning on a trip. She almost died. One of my stepbrothers had a motorcycle accident, and he died twice; and they brought him back to life. And my mom has MS [multiple sclerosis]. With all that's happened with my family, we've gotten really close. We've always told each other that if there was ever any kind of news or anything that we needed to tell each other, that we would do it immediately, and that we wouldn't hold the information.

Before I went to get my results, I purchased a plane ticket to go home that night. I knew that if it was positive, then I don't know that I would have gone and bought a ticket. I would have been scared, and that sort of thing. So I kind of just started my day and then, you know, bought a ticket; then went and got my results; then came home and got my bags; and then I went to the airport. I immediately flew home.

And so the day that I found out, I told my mom and my stepdad. My sister picked me up from the airport. And then I drove down and woke my dad and stepmom up -- they were asleep -- and shared the news with them, as well. So immediately, within 24 hours, I had a support group, which was my family, the people that I'm the closest with.

The next day, I flew back home in the morning; and I went to work the next day. Probably the hardest call, on top of telling my family, is that I knew that -- because I was negative via a blood test on November 30, 2011; then I had unprotected sex December 18, and then I was sick January 2, 2012 -- so I knew timeline-wise exactly who the person was. And I knew that they didn't know that they were positive. And so that was a very difficult call. But I did that call within 24 hours of finding out, too. Because I wanted to get it out of the way.

What was that conversation like?

It was a difficult conversation. First, I texted him to see where he was and if he could chat. To be completely transparent, it wasn't somebody that I was extremely good friends with. It was someone that I had a bunch of drinks with -- it was a one-night stand kind of thing. I was just glad that I had his phone number, to be honest. This may make me sound terrible, but that is being real.

So I texted him and said, "I need to chat with you. Call me." And he called me immediately and said, "What's going on?"

I said that I'd just found out that I was HIV positive and, based on my timeline, that I really, really, really strongly encouraged him to go get tested. And he actually put the words in my mouth. He said, "Because I'm the only one that you could have gotten it from?"

And I said, "Yeah."

There was a pause there. He didn't really even know where to go. So I helped him and got him in touch with the people at Nashville CARES to test him. I introduced him to those people and then, when he found out that he was positive, helped him know what to do next, where to turn and that sort of thing. He was going through the process of meeting with people, trying to find a doctor and that sort of thing; it was a process that I just went through a couple weeks before him, so I was able to kind of lead him in that direction.

We are friends now, and we chat all the time. He is not open at all about his status, which is completely his choice. And I've honored that. And so I haven't disclosed who he is to anyone, either. [Editor's note: The man who exposed Josh to HIV, who is now a friend, wrote a blog entry about getting the call from Josh that led to his own diagnosis -- read this story from his perspective.]

It's still very gracious of you to help him. It sounds like there was no resentment at all on your part.

The day that I made the call to him, it was because I asked one of my friends, Vic, who works with Nashville CARES: "What do I have to do now? Do I have to call that person, or will the Health Department just call him?" For me that was like an easy out. I'll just let them do it.

And Vic said to me, "Yeah, they will. However, that takes a lot of time. And if he doesn't know that he's positive right now and he has unprotected sex or any risky behavior during that time, are you going to be OK knowing that that could be happening?" And that's the reason why I made the immediate call: Because I hadn't infected anyone and I know that he didn't intentionally infect me. But I wanted him not to put anyone else at risk, without knowing his status and that sort of thing.

And I'm glad I did, you know? It wasn't until the last week of May 2012 that the Health Department here in Nashville finally called me. They asked who I had sex with, or whatever. But it took them four months to call. So if I hadn't made that call to him immediately then he would just now be finding out. And if his viral load was high, you know -- I didn't know at the time -- or his CD4 count was really low, not only did I want him to know so that he wouldn't expose anyone else, but I wanted him to get to a doctor so that he would be better equipped to be successful against this disease long-term.

And so, as a whole, I told my family and a couple of my best friends, and the person that I had unprotected sex with. I made all those calls immediately.

Everyone's different. Obviously, now, because I have a blog, imstilljosh.com, and I was on the cover of one of the national publications here, telling my story, I'm very open about it now. But I also understand that that is not for everybody. I'm in a position and a place in my life where I could be open, and I wanted to. But there are other people that are HIV positive and maybe only their doctor knows. And that's OK.  

It definitely takes time for a lot of other people. It sounds like you were ready to open up immediately.

Yeah, it was pretty immediate. I'm somebody that finds humor in weird things, you know? Sometimes when I go to funerals, the whole thought of somebody being passed away, and laying in a casket, and people walking by . . . I guess I'm just weird, but I kind of find humor in different things like that -- or I can see humor in it.

So I was sitting in my house and was thinking, how in the world am I going to tell everyone? Or, what happens if they find out before I tell them? Or, if I told a couple people and then everyone else kind of starts trickling to find out? Again, I still didn't know anyone that had ever told me that they were HIV positive.

So I did a test thing on my Facebook and social media. I don't even know why I did it -- but I posted an Elton John song, Philadelphia Freedom. Because the only thing that I put with HIV was Magic Johnson and the movie Philadelphia. And so for some reason there was like a little comfort in there, a little humor; I don't know.

And then a couple days after I did that, I decided to make a blog and tell my story. Because Nashville's a city, but it also feels very small at times. And in the gay community, everyone knows everyone. I wanted to be in control of that dialogue, and my story. So I created a blog on Thursday morning. And that Thursday, at 4 p.m., the best way that I knew to let everyone know is, I just posted the blog address on my Facebook. That first day, you know, I think I had like 600 friends or something; the blog was viewed almost 1,300 times. So the secret got out real quick.

From there, the gay publication in Nashville asked me if they could tell my story, or write about it. And I said, "Absolutely." Where I am now, it's twofold: Number one, it's to raise awareness; it's for people like me that have found out, that they're HIV positive, and they felt alone. They didn't know anyone. It's not something that anyone seems to ever talk about -- or did, at that moment, to me. Number two, I'm trying to tackle the stigma of HIV, that it's not a death sentence, obviously, as we all know. But in the South, particularly, there's still a very strong stigma around it.

So I wanted to stand up and yell in town that I had HIV, that I'm OK, that I'm going to survive, and that I'm still Josh. Kind of the motto behind my little blog is: I'm still Josh; you still be you. As long as you still do you guys, then I'm still going to be me. And we just have this disease now that I'm just dealing with.

To be continued . . . 

Find Josh Robbins on Social Media 

Facebook

Twitter

YouTube

Check out Josh's blog at imstilljosh.com! 

Apr08

Aging, HIV and the possible effect of nukes

Monday, 08 April 2013 Written by // Kinder, gentler, more understanding. Categories // Aging, As Prevention , CATIE, Treatment Guidelines -including when to start, Newly Diagnosed, Health, Treatment, Living with HIV, Population Specific , CATIE - HIV and Hep C Info Resource

How safe are HIV drugs and when to start treatment? CATIE’s Sean Hosein reviews the impact of nukes (nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitor) on our bodies, including whether they contribute to premature aging – and how.. . .

Aging, HIV and the possible effect of nukes

This article by Sean Hosein first appeared on the CATIE website here  

Une version française est disponible ici. 

In high-income countries such as Canada, Australia and the U.S. and in regions such as Western Europe, huge advances have been made in the treatment of HIV disease. Researchers increasingly expect that a young person who is diagnosed today and who initiates potent combination anti-HIV therapy (commonly called ART or HAART) and who has minimal co-existing health conditions should have several additional decades of life expectancy.

The combinations of therapies available for the initial treatment of HIV are plentiful. Furthermore, pill taking has been simplified by the availability of the co-formulation of several drugs into one pill, creating an entire regimen in a single tablet. Such single-tablet regimens need only be taken once daily. However, things were not always this way.

A look at the past

Initial treatment for HIV infection, when it became available in the late 1980s, consisted of a single drug—the nuke (nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitor) AZT (zidovudine, Retrovir)—given at high doses and taken every four hours. Such a regimen frequently caused headache, nausea, vomiting and damaged the bone marrow.

In the early 1990s, other anti-HIV drugs in the same class became available, including the following nukes:

  • ddC (zalcitabine, Hivid)
  • ddI (didanosine, Videx)
  • d4T (stavudine, Zerit) 

These three drugs, commonly called d-drugs, initially appeared to be better tolerated but soon showed their own side effects, such as peripheral neuropathy (painful nerves in the hands, feet and legs). ddC is no longer manufactured and treatment guidelines in high-income countries now discourage the use of d4T and ddI.

In 1996, a new class of anti-HIV drugs became available—protease inhibitors (PIs). When used in combination with nukes, the results were dramatic. For the first time in the history of the AIDS pandemic, people showed sustained recovery from AIDS-related infections.

However, shortly after HAART became available, reports emerged of a strange syndrome of changes in body shape sometimes associated with the loss of the fatty layer just under the skin. This loss of fat, called lipoatrophy, affected all parts of the body but its effect on the face could become most distressing.

Initially, because PIs were the latest class of anti-HIV therapy, they were suspected as the culprits. However, a few years later, researchers began to realize that exposure to d4T and, to a lesser extent, AZT, was linked to lipoatrophy. Today, drugs such as d4T and AZT are generally not recommended as first-line therapy in high-income countries.

Nukes today

In the current era, nukes remain the backbone of many regimens. Nukes commonly used today include the following combinations:

  • abacavir + 3TC – sold as a fixed-dose formulation called Kivexa (or Epzicom) and also found in Trizivir
  • tenofovir + FTC – sold as a fixed-dose formulation called Truvada and also found in other combinations such as Atripla, Complera and Stribild 

A lingering sense of caution

Decisions about starting therapy for HIV infection have always been challenging; both doctors and their patients have weighed the risks and benefits, as well as a person’s ability to take HIV medicines exactly as directed for many years. In the current era, with safer, simpler therapies and more results from clinical trials, the risk–benefit ratio has swung strongly in favour of very early initiation of therapy. The most recent version of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’ (DHHS) HIV/AIDS Treatment Guidelines recommends early therapy for all HIV-positive people, for two reasons, as follows:

  • At the level of the individual, early treatment can help preserve the immune system and improve health.
  • From a public health point of view, treating more HIV-positive people reduces the amount of HIV in their blood, other tissues, and genital fluids. The result is decreased sexual infectiousness. As a result of this reduced infectiousness, at the level of a large urban area or region, widespread use of ART can help to reduce new cases of HIV transmission. This approach of treating people to reduce their infectiousness is called TasP—treatment as prevention. 

Despite the general tolerability and safety of Kivexa and Truvada, some HIV-positive people and their doctors remain somewhat wary of nukes in general, given their checkered history, and wonder about the potential of these drugs for causing new, unknown side effects. This latter concern is increased as HIV-positive people age and need to take multiple medications, heightening the potential for drug interactions and side effects.

Emerging research suggests the possibility that nukes can affect the energy-producing parts of cells (mitochondria). However, nuke combinations commonly used in the initiation of therapy today have not been proven to cause mitochondrial damage that is directly linked to the ill health of ART users.

Aging and HIV

Some researchers have found hints of apparently accelerated aging in some HIV-positive people. Specifically, some organ-systems, such as the brain, heart, blood vessels and bones, appear to have aged more quickly than they should.

The cause of this apparent aging is not clear.

If premature or accelerated aging does exist in HIV infection, there may be several potential causes affecting different people, including the following:

  • long-term exposure to specific proteins produced by HIV-infected cells
  • higher-than-normal levels of inflammation, which accompanies chronic viral infections such as HIV
  • substance use
  • tobacco smoking
  • co-infection with other germs, such as members of the herpes virus family—CMV (cytomegalovirus) and EBV (Epstein-Barr virus) 

The immune system and aging

Several research teams have found that, if left untreated, HIV infection does prematurely age the immune system. HIV appears to cause this by repeatedly activating the immune system and producing inflammation. This virus also appears to cause complex and poorly understood changes to the immune system shortly after it enters the body.

ART greatly reduces HIV-related inflammation but cannot entirely eliminate it. Prolonged exposure to higher-than-normal levels of inflammation is associated with many chronic illnesses and it is possible that such inflammation over the long-term may play a role in reports of accelerated aging seen in some HIV-positive people in studies. However, it is important to bear in mind that exposure to unhealthy behaviours—particularly tobacco smoking—also causes inflammation. Separating all the possible drivers of accelerated aging in HIV-positive people will not be easy and will require many studies, some of them quite expensive and daunting in their complexity.

Much caution needed

A research team in Australia has been exploring the theory that nukes somehow contribute to the apparent acceleration in aging in HIV-positive people. Their work, conducted in complex laboratory experiments on cells from HIV-negative and HIV-positive people suggests the possibility that the drug tenofovir (Viread) may accelerate the aging of the immune system. However, we urge our readers to treat this finding with a great deal of caution, if only because the results from the Australian experiments are not definitive. Furthermore, due to built-in limitations of their study’s design (it is cross-sectional in nature), questions remain about the significance of their findings. Next up, we will explore some of the issues related to the Australian study.

—Sean R. Hosein

REFERENCES:

 1. Boasso A, Royle CM, Doumazos S, et al. Overactivation of plasmacytoid dendritic cells inhibits antiviral T-cell responses: a model for HIV immunopathogenesis. Blood. 2011 Nov 10;118(19):5152-62.

 2. Herbeuval JP, Nilsson J, Boasso A, et al. HAART reduces death ligand but not death receptors in lymphoid tissue of HIV-infected patients and simian immunodeficiency virus-infected macaques. AIDS. 2009 Jan 2;23(1):35-40.

 3. Bestilny LJ, Gill MJ, Mody CH, et al. Accelerated replicative senescence of the peripheral immune system induced by HIV infection. AIDS. 2000 May 5;14(7):771-80.

 4. Leeansyah E, Cameron PU, Solomon A, et al. Inhibition of telomerase activity by HIV Nucleos(t)ide Reverse Transcriptase Inhibitors: a potential factor contributing to HIV-associated accelerated ageing. Journal of Infectious Diseases. 2013; in press.

 5. Payne BA, Wilson IJ, Hateley CA, et al. Mitochondrial aging is accelerated by anti-retroviral therapy through the clonal expansion of mtDNA mutations. Nature Genetics. 2011 Jun 26;43(8):806-10.

 6. Helleberg M, Afzal S, Kronborg G, et al. Mortality Attributable to Smoking Among HIV-1-Infected Individuals: A Nationwide, Population-Based Cohort Study. Clinical Infectious Diseases. 2013; in press.

 7. Rasmussen LD, Kessel L, Molander LD, et al. Risk of cataract surgery in HIV-infected individuals: a Danish nationwide population-based cohort study. Clinical Infectious Diseases. 2011 Dec;53(11):1156-63.

 8. Guaraldi G, Orlando G, Zona S, et al. Premature age-related comorbidities among HIV-infected persons compared with the general population. Clinical Infectious Diseases. 2011 Dec;53(11):1120-6.

 9. Pathai S, Lawn SD, Weiss HA, et al. Increased ocular lens density in HIV-infected individuals with low nadir CD4 counts in South Africa: evidence of accelerated aging. Journal of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndromes. 2013; in press.

 10. Smith RL, de Boer R, Brul S, et al. Premature and accelerated aging: HIV or HAART? Frontiers in Genetics. 2012;3:328.

 11. Carr A, Samaras K, Burton S, et al. A syndrome of peripheral lipodystrophy, hyperlipidaemia and insulin resistance in patients receiving HIV protease inhibitors. AIDS. 1998 May 7;12(7):F51-8.

 12. van der Valk M, Gisolf EH, et al. Increased risk of lipodystrophy when nucleoside analogue reverse transcriptase inhibitors are included with protease inhibitors in the treatment of HIV-1 infection. AIDS. 2001 May 4;15(7):847-55.

 13. Cohen S, Janicki-Deverts D, Turner RB, et al. Association between telomere length and experimentally induced upper respiratory viral infection in healthy adults. JAMA. 2013 Feb 20;309(7):699-705.

Apr03

It’s time: national HIV+ coming out day sets you free

Wednesday, 03 April 2013 Written by // Josh Kruger Categories // Josh Kruger, Gay Men, Contributors, Newly Diagnosed, Health, Sexual Health, Living with HIV, Opinion Pieces, Population Specific

Josh Kruger says we are often unwilling to take the professional, social, and sexual risks of affirming that we are HIV+. But, he says, come out. You’ll find that nobody really cares about your HIV-status.

It’s time: national HIV+ coming out day sets you free

In POZ Magazine, Michael Kaplan, CEO of AIDS United, himself HIV+ since 1992, makes the case for a national HIV+ coming out day wherein HIV+ men and women publicly disclose and affirm their HIV status. A good number of readers of this site have asked for my opinion on the matter, and as an HIV+ man, I, along with a good number of readers, have an obvious stakeholder position in this discussion.

While I make no comparison of myself to the obvious gravitas and incredible insights and experience of Kaplan, I do say that as someone who routinely writes against HIV stigmatization, about the deleterious effects an HIV negative based LGBT community has on its HIV+ members, and about the need for candid discussions on the reality of sexual health in 2013, I think this is probably the best advancement to improve the quality of life for HIV+ individuals since modern triple and quadruple therapy antiretroviral treatment.

Last year, I publicly disclosed my own HIV status on Philadelphia Magazine’s G Philly Blog. While the response to this public disclosure was overwhelmingly heartening and warm, there were still, of course, those who commented on that site and in local LGBT social settings that I was, and these are direct quotes, “a slut,” “deserving of HIV,” “hypocritical,” “dirty,” and every other standard, and idiotic, common insult thrown, at one point or another, carelessly at most people who live with HIV. Disingenuously, entire segments of the LGBT community take the personal responsibility of HIV negative sexual partners entirely off the table, force an unfair expectation of disclosure entirely onto the shoulders of those living with HIV, and, most alarmingly, contain swaths of “reformed good little boys” living with HIV, who seemingly tend to make their livings off of HIV prevention, efforts that they themselves seem to have not even adhered to by nature of their contradictory existence.

Most annoyingly, these hypocrites, when coupled with their ludicrous demands that everyone use a condom every time, stigmatize themselves by calling me, again literally, a “murderer,” “playing Russian roulette,” and “stupid.” Bizarrely, these professionals, who would not put food on their tables if HIV was, in fact, eradicated, seem to ignore completely the mounting evidence that antiretroviral treatment when adhered to nearly 100% of the time takes HIV transmission completely out of the realm of scientific possibility without condoms being necessary whatsoever. Instead, they kowtow to the demands of Durex, Trojan, and Lifestyles out of intellectual laziness and counterproductive conventional wisdom that, based upon the growing HIV infection rate in the United States, is obviously ineffective.

And, it is because of the secretive and stigmatic nature of HIV that this cycle of reckless behavior, refusal to get tested for HIV and the ensuing inevitable consequences of having sex with folks who aren’t on antiretroviral treatment, continues. With this in mind, it is high time that HIV+ Americans come out of the virologic closet and affirm that they are, first and foremost, human beings deserving of the same respect and dignity that we afford even the kinkiest members of the LGBT community without regard to their personal sexual proclivities. After all, this demand for equality of representation and equality of circumstance, particularly in the context of legal and health related issues, is the precise equality currently demanded by the Human Rights Campaign, which seems to think that HIV doesn’t exist. 

In Philadelphia alone, 20,000 people are living with HIV/AIDS. We exist, and we have more votes, more impact on society, and more influence on the direction of the LGBT community, an admittedly fragmented and loosely affiliated cultural bloc that cannot even make up its mind on what to call itself, than a great number of political and social interest groups demanding more seats at the table of human discourse than the HIV+ have themselves. And, because we are afraid of people calling us sluts, of people judging our behavior, of people hypocritically barebacking while simultaneously telling us we deserved our divine sentence of a blood born virus, we are unwilling to take the professional, social, and sexual risks of affirming that we are HIV+. And, frankly, we are successfully living with HIV thanks to the hard work of more compassionate segments of the LGBT community, including a myriad of HIV/AIDS organizations here in Philadelphia and the good work of state legislators like openly gay State Representative Brian Sims. Ironically, the seeming majority of HIV+ men and women are overwhelmingly healthier and monitor their bodies and personal behavior to a degree most HIV negative people, either out of unfortunate lack of access to healthcare or laziness or ignorance, find prohibitive.

Now, nobody should be forced to come out of the virologic closet just as nobody’s sexuality should be whispered about for page views or forced to discuss their private life publicly. That is, nobody should be forced to do any of this if they are, indeed, not a hypocrite with obvious contradictions between their personal identity or behavior and what they advocate. Nonetheless, just as the glass closet keeps society guessing about the dates and husbands, or lack thereof, of media, political, and cultural figures, the virologic closet impedes happiness, sex, marriage, dating, friendships, understanding, tolerance, acceptance, and every other factor inherent in public assertion of circumstance and identity. Therefore, I encourage anyone who is HIV+ to recognize that the benefits of coming out, of being able to finally no longer tiptoe with our potential boyfriends around the issue of HIV, of no longer feeling that we deserved this virus, of no longer feeling the need to enter the backdoor of public health centers as though we are second class citizens hiding our most basic of human needs, access to healthcare, far outweigh the stupid biases of an incredibly small, and disgusting, group of thoughtless, inhuman morons who would rather gossip about HIV than genuinely care about the 20,000 Philadelphians living with HIV.

So, come out. You’ll find that nobody really cares about your HIV status aside from the fact that you are taking care of yourself, that you are using the tools the LGBT and HIV/AIDS community have worked toward for decades, and that you are, above all else, content and happy.

If you would like to possibly come out publicly about your HIV+ status, contact Josh Kruger at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .

This article previously appeared on Josh’s own blog here.  

Mar31

Tales of the late diagnosed

Sunday, 31 March 2013 Written by // Guest Authors - Revolving Door Categories // Newly Diagnosed, International , Living with HIV, Population Specific , Revolving Door, Guest Authors

Aidsmap.com’s Gus Cairns talks to four people who were diagnosed with HIV only just in time to save their lives – and the daughter of one who wasn’t.

Tales of the late diagnosed

This article first appeared on aidsmap.com here

Now that antiretroviral therapy (ART) works so well, we can sometimes forget how remorseless a virus HIV can be if left untreated. Yet you don’t have to go to countries with poor treatment access to see what AIDS looks like. Even in the UK, people are still turning up at hospital desperately ill, with no immune system, and with severe pneumonia, cancers, wasting, dementia... everything we used to associate with HIV in the bad old days.

Why? Late diagnosis. One of the aims of the recent National HIV Testing Week was to try and bring down the number of people in this situation, the late-diagnosed. These are the people tested for HIV far too late, when they have turned up somewhere – often in hospital – with CD4 counts in single figures. Sometimes they may have been scared to test, but often it’s because they never suspected they had HIV. Some have avoided healthcare services, but too many have known something was badly wrong and been tested for everything but HIV.

Most pull through, but some don’t. We talked to a number of people diagnosed very late to see if there were any common factors in their experiences.

But first, how much of a problem is late diagnosis among people in the UK?

A pricey problem

“Late diagnosis is dangerous – and expensive to manage,” says Dr Ian Cormack, HIV consultant at Croydon University Hospital in south London.

“A year on antiretroviral therapy currently costs about £6000. The care bill for a recent patient who spent six weeks in our intensive care unit was well over £200,000, which would have been avoided if they’d tested a year before.”

In his experience, for some groups, late diagnosis remains the rule rather than the exception. “I’d say at least two-thirds of my current patients here had a CD4 count below the treatment-initiation limit of 350 cells/mm3 at diagnosis.

“My patient group here is two-thirds black African and I do know people from that group who have tested late either because they think HIV is still a death sentence, or are worried about their immigration status.”

But, he says, the people who really do scrape through – and the hospital had no avoidable HIV-related deaths last year, so scrape through they do – are the people who don’t fit the typical ‘high risk’ demographic, the 13% of his patients who aren’t openly gay men or black African people.

“The white heterosexuals are the most likely to turn up actually with AIDS-related symptoms. Them, and black Caribbeans, though we see a number of Asians too. They are often very ill and often have difficulties adjusting to their diagnosis, feeling especially isolated and stigmatised.”

The bisexual man: Brian

One such person is Brian*. The north Londoner, diagnosed at Christmas in 2007, runs his own business as a wholesaler.

He started to worry “because I was looking too healthy. I tend to lose weight in the summer and pile it on again in the autumn. That year, though, I hadn’t had to go on my usual October diet and at first was pleased.

“But something started to scratch at the back of my mind. I didn’t feel ill, exactly. It was more that I felt vulnerable – as if I needed wrapping up and looking after. I started having dark thoughts too, not specifically suicidal but morbid. ‘If I accidentally stepped in the garden pond it would be all over’ – that sort of thing.

“I went back and forth to the GP a few times and they did tests for diabetes, liver function, cancers. All came back blank. Then I started losing my appetite and my GP became concerned: he could see I had unusual weight loss. Looking back, I’m wondering why he didn’t just test for HIV too.

“Just after Christmas, I got a chest infection. The GP took one listen at my chest and said ‘Right, we have to do something’: the next thing, I was in the local A&E department.

“The moment I was there I felt better psychologically; I was being looked after, as I’d wanted. The hospital doctor said ‘We need to broach the subject of your private life’, and I said ‘Go for it’. I realised it was important not to hold back.”

And so he found himself talking for the first time about his bisexuality and his late-night cruising on London commons. He was married with two teenage children, a school governor, well known in the local community. He emphasises that he made a conscious decision not to let fear of gossip stop him telling the truth.

“The doctor was the daughter-in-law of one of my customers. I decided to trust that she’d be professional. I didn’t want a stranger telling my wife, though. So I said ‘Take the day off work’ and told her. I considered saying I’d had a drug problem but decided there was no point in lying. She was devastated, but with the help of counselling at the Terrence Higgins Trust, we pulled through.”

If there’s a message he’d like to give to others, it’s to update their knowledge about HIV. “In my line of business there are quite a lot of bi guys and they’re the ones I always hear myths from. ‘HIV is still a death sentence’, ‘it’s mutating and is resistant to all the drugs’, and so on. It’s these kinds of myths that stop people from testing.”

What late diagnosis does

Late diagnosis kills. A British HIV Association (BHIVA) audit in 20061 found that 25% of all deaths reported in people with HIV were due to late diagnosis. People diagnosed with a CD4 count lower than 350 cells/mm3 have ten times the risk of dying after diagnosis compared with those over the threshold – a 4% risk in the first year compared with a 0.4% one. Most deaths occur within the first three months after testing positive, and most in people with very low CD4 counts (under 100 cells/mm3).

The most recent data from the Health Protection Agency (HPA)2 show that nearly half (47%) of people with HIV are being diagnosed with a CD4 count of 350 cells/mm3 or under, which lays them open to increased risk of illness, and a quarter (26%) with fewer than 200 cells/mm3, the point at which AIDS-related conditions start to become much more likely.

About 35% of gay men, but 56% of women and 64% of heterosexual men, are diagnosed with a CD4 count under 350 cells/mm3. Being in a high-prevalence group makes little difference – African people are just as, or even more, likely to test late, with 61% of African women and 68% of men doing so. Older people leave it later to test than younger: 61% of the over-50s diagnosed in 2011 had a CD4 count under 350 cells/mm3, compared with 48% of the under-50s.

When it comes to women, pregnant women are diagnosed earlier. This isn’t because they present themselves for testing. It’s because pregnant women form the only group in the UK which is universally and routinely tested for HIV unless someone specifically asks not to be. A third of all HIV tests in the UK are performed at antenatal clinics.

The biggest contrast is in the group who test very late. The proportion of gay men who are diagnosed with a CD4 count under 200 cells/mm3 – which in the US is a definition of AIDS – is 16%, but in heterosexual men it’s as high as 43%.

The good news is that the proportion of late testers has been slowly declining overall, most notably in gay men: in 2002 48% tested late and in 2011, 35%. The proportion of late testers in heterosexuals has only gone down relatively slightly, from 67 to 60%. In the case of gay men, the challenge now is not to get them to test, but to test often: the HPA recommends gay men should test for HIV at least annually, and every three months if they have multiple partners, but found that in fact two-thirds of gay men who’d had a test at an HIV clinic had, two years later, not returned for another one.

The traveller: Tom

One interesting group who are increasing as a proportion of the HIV-positive population, and who may test particularly late, are UK-born people who acquire HIV while on holiday or working abroad. The latest HPA report highlights that some 15% of UK-born adults with HIV fall into this category: they are more likely to be older, heterosexual and report contact with a sex worker. And they may test especially late as they are seen, both by doctors and themselves, as falling out of classic risk categories.

One was Tom, in his 50s from Leicester. He’s a reminder that late diagnosis may not only involve danger for the person who tests: in Tom’s case, although he too got sick, what got him to test was the near death of his young son.

He believes he became infected with HIV abroad: he had been going to Thailand twice a year and sleeping with women there. Eventually, he found a wife there – “I could see she wasn’t like the other girls” – and they have been married for eleven years. He doesn’t know if he infected his wife or vice versa.

He started off having jaundice and gallstones for no apparent reason, as well as kidney problems, and then developing what was thought might be anaemia. “I had every test under the sun. I even went to a haematologist who did a general blood cell screen, as I’d had anaemia before. I even asked him if they might do an HIV test. He just said ‘I don’t think we need to, you don’t fit the profile’.”

If they’d thought to test his CD4 count, they’d have found out: Tom’s was 53 cells/mm3 when finally diagnosed and he was in the early stages of PCP, a type of pneumonia.

By that time, however, his young son, who is now six years old but was then three, had already spent eight weeks in hospital with pneumonia and what doctors thought was lymphoma.

“I can’t help feeling guilty. For me and my wife, it was one thing testing for HIV, for him another, he’s just a kid. We feel strong as a couple and my beliefs support me [he has converted to Buddhism] but I think I am going to need support when he starts asking questions about why he has to take medicines twice a day.

“I just wish they’d include HIV among the standard tests they do,” Tom says. “I now hate it when they say ‘We’ll run some tests’. I want to know what tests? And why? What assumptions are they making? There are guys in my office who have taken more risks than me but are too frightened to test because of the stigma attached. It would be a good message if doctors just regarded it as something routine.”

The fast progressor: Annie

Not all ‘late testers’ are older or have actually been infected for a long time. About 7% of people with HIV are ‘fast progressors’ who, for reasons that are still unclear, experience continued high viral replication after acute infection that takes their CD4 count down to below the danger level of 200 cells/mm3 within two years.3

Annie was diagnosed in 2008 with a CD4 count of ten cells/mm3 and a viral load of six million copies/ml. She knows she couldn’t have been infected before 2006. She had had several older boyfriends including one from the Caribbean, a group among whom, says Ian Cormack, “we find late diagnosis is common. Many are reluctant to test and struggle to accept their HIV diagnosis.”

Employed in the finance sector, she worked very hard, but played hard too. She used to go to a central London hospital for regular check-ups for other sexually transmitted infections (STIs) “and never had one. So I reckoned if I’d never had an STI I couldn’t possibly have HIV and, although they always offered me a test, I always declined.”

She realised something was wrong when the ‘play’ bit of her life had to go because of increasing fatigue: “By 9pm, you couldn’t have got me off the sofa with a JCB.” A couple of liver function tests showed worsening results; she developed oral thrush and then pneumonia. She ended up in hospital for three months: “I missed the summer.”

She thinks there were a number of opportunities for testing during the two years between being infected and testing HIV positive.

“I think the public health messages have done a lot of damage. The early ones caused a lot of fear and still stick in people’s minds – people quote them who were not even around when they first appeared – and the later ones made people think you could only have HIV if you were African or gay. A close relative was a staff nurse in A&E for years, and even she said ‘You can’t have HIV, you don’t have the lifestyle’.”

Standardising testing

People like Brian, Tom and Annie are lucky to have made complete recoveries. Ian Cormack says: “Thirty per cent of my outpatients have some sort of long-term health consequence from testing late.”

He wants to see the HIV test offered in a much wider variety of areas. His team at Croydon University Hospital, including doctors David Philips and Ali Elgalib, persuaded the hospital’s consultants and chief executive to start offering HIV testing as standard to all medical admissions from July 2011.

“We made the point that standardising HIV testing doesn’t just protect patients, it protects the hospital as part of good clinical care,” he says.

“We regularly visit the emergency room to motivate staff to offer the test and train nurses to do it. We conducted an acceptability study among A&E patients and 84% said they’d happily take an HIV test, 91% if it wasn’t a blood test. It’s the doctors, I find, who are worried. They don’t know how to say ‘HIV test’ to the patient.”

One thing that would help, he thinks, is “to change from the culture of targeted testing”.

Targeting made sense when the point needed to be made that gay men and African people suffered disproportionately from HIV and needed appropriately more attention, more resources – and more tests.

“The problem with targeting now,” says Ian, “is that it encourages a collusion between doctor and patient not to mention HIV. The patient doesn’t want to disclose, and the doctor doesn’t want to ask.”

Although he is pleased at the progress routine HIV testing has made in his hospital and in the community, he says that GPs’ surgeries are where we will make the real gains.

“But GPs need support. We may well feel like saying ‘Look here, this chap was turning up for two years with HIV-related symptoms, why didn’t you test him?’ but we don’t want them getting defensive. We need to work out how HIV testing can be integrated into GPs’ models of care. GPs need support from the top: HIV testing needs to be prioritised and incentivised; it needs to be part of the package of incentives included in schemes like QOF” [the Quality and Outcomes Framework, which rewards GPs for achieving certain health targets].

We have a long way to go in this direction. An audit conducted by the British HIV Association in 2010 found that while the proportion of people who have been diagnosed with HIV in so-called ‘non-traditional settings’, such as A&E, has increased by 14.4% since 2003, the number diagnosed by their GP only increased by 6.4% during the same period.4

The older woman: Kate

Someone whose GP could have tested her earlier was a person I could not interview, because she died of AIDS in January 2011. Rose Matthews’ mother Kate was 59 when she died: “four stone, confused, scared, and not my mum any more. By the end she couldn’t recognise her reflection.”

Rose has made an official complaint about her doctors’ failure to test Kate Matthews for HIV. Her complaint, and the GP’s reply to it, make tragic reading. Kate first started to notice symptoms in August 2007 and her life could have been saved if she had been given an HIV test at any time in the next three years.

She had multiple problems suggestive of HIV: shingles, loss of appetite, swollen lymph nodes, weight loss, cognitive decline – all presented at some point.

This was not a passive or ignorant patient, either. Kate kept a diary detailing her mysterious illness and her visits to the doctor, and at one point even paid for a private scan, which returned a picture of multiple swollen lymph nodes.

The GP practice made a provisional diagnosis of lymphoma, and stuck to this even though a specialist’s report said there were no signs of it: it appears the reason Kate was not given an HIV test was because she did not ‘fit the profile’. She eventually tested HIV positive in the hospital where she died, too late for her to be treated and saved.

“I feel there should be an HIV screen for all new GP patients everywhere,” says Rose (Kate did not live in a high-prevalence area, where this is now recommended). ”My mum probably had had HIV for ten years: if in 2008 her GP had offered her a test, she’d still be here now.” She is now actively campaigning for a revival of general HIV-awareness campaigns, not least for GPs.

The non-presenter: Ekow

By this time you may be feeling scandalised that so many people are still developing serious illness and some dying, just because healthcare workers (and patients) don’t think to test for HIV.

That’s certainly part of the cause, but the last late-presenter I interviewed, and perhaps the one who had the closest brush with death, reminds us that there may always be a core of people undiagnosed with HIV – and he also taught me that I am not immune from making assumptions about someone’s sexuality and risk.

Ekow is a 43-year-old man from west Africa; he’s been in the UK for 20 years, though he periodically travels back home. A quiet, unassuming man, when asked whether he feels the health services missed opportunities to test him for HIV, he says “No, to be honest.

“I am registered with a GP but I’m one of those men who never sought out health care, like men who never ask directions. Besides, apart from the odd hangover when I’ve had one too many at a club, I’d never been ill. There could be a lot of people in my situation, and some people inevitably will have to fall sick before they get tested.”

Last year he started losing weight rapidly and also developed oral thrush. “My friends were saying, ‘There’s something wrong man – you not eating?’

“But it never occurred to me I could have HIV. I’m not the kind of guy who’s jumped from woman to woman.”

One day he woke up and found he couldn’t walk. “I was like a little old man.” He eventually struggled into A&E where they took one look at him, admitted him, and tested him for HIV. “I remember, all the doctors and nurses gathered round my bed and one said ‘You’ve got HIV’. I nearly died then!”

He nearly did. He had a CD4 count of four cells/mm3 and, when put on antiretroviral therapy, he had the severe, paradoxical complication called IRIS (immune reconstitution inflammatory syndrome), which happens when the immune system ‘reboots’ from virtually nothing and and starts over-reacting to the original infection. He developed terrible abscesses in his neck and throat which required a tracheotomy and is still in the situation where he takes one Atripla pill to control his HIV but a handful of other ones to treat opportunistic infection. However, his CD4 count is now 120 cells/mm3 and on the way up.

When I ask if he has a partner, I realise I’ve made an interesting assumption myself: “No,” he says, “not right now. I did have a guy back in Africa I used to go back and visit...” Up till then I’d been assuming I’d been talking to a heterosexual man. If I can make that mistake, it’s hardly surprising if healthcare workers continue to miss cases of HIV, sometimes with fatal consequences, through trying to guess, on the basis of appearance and what people are prepared to admit, whether they should get tested or not. As Ian Cormack says, targeting is valuable to persuade those at highest risk to test, but we need to normalise it across wider areas of health care to find and care for the people who don’t fit the picture.

*Names have been changed.

References

British HIV Association (BHIVA) Mortality Audit 2005-6. See http://bit.ly/Xw1Jss

Health Protection Agency HIV in the United Kingdom: 2012 report. See http://bit.ly/10DhQuM

Langford SE at al. Predictors of disease progression in HIV infection: a review. AIDS Research and Therapy4:11. doi:10.1186/1742-6405-4-11, 2007.

Ellis S et al. HIV diagnoses and missed opportunities. Results of the British HIV Association (BHIVA) National Audit 2010. Clinical Medicine 12(5): 430-4, 2012. Full text article: http://bit.ly/Xw5K02.

Arts and Entertainment Section

Activism Section

Current Affairs Section

Events Section

Features and Interviews Section

Health Section

International Section

Legal Section

Lifestyle Section

Living with HIV Section

Media Section

  • Top ten

    Top ten

    From PrEP to porn. Bob Leahy looks at PositiveLite.com’s ten most popular posts in the last six months. How many of these did you miss?
  • Cancellation

    Cancellation

    Sad news. This is the last blog entry from Christopher Banks. Here Christopher explains why.
  • The wild birds win BUT . .

    The wild birds win BUT . .

    Megan DePutter isn’t angry. In fact she’s delighted that AIDS Committee of Guelph’s close second place finish in the Canada’s Worst Charity Website contest netted her agency a $15,000 website makeover..

Opinion Pieces Section

Population Specific Section

Sex and Sexuality Section

MarketPlace