1.
Because I was possessed by a demon.
And because I was pregnant for 22 months with its child.
That’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
2.
Last week, a young friend of mine started PrEP.
He's 24 and heard about it online, has good health insurance, so has it covered. He told me the news as we were catching up after a recent sex party we were at together.
His news shocked me. And not because he started PrEP.
The shocking part was that none of his peers believed him when he told them about taking the pills to prevent HIV.
They thought he was lying.
And that’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
3.
One gay man possessed by a demon and pregnant for 22 months means there’s likely to be others.
And any Queen worth his weight in taffeta and sequins knows our sacred heritage is a river of blood.
That’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
4.
Feels like no one is hearing about PrEP. Especially gay boys in Seattle.
Most are still surprised to hear me tell of a pill that could prevent an exposure to HIV leading to a lifelong infection.
After 30+ years of exposures leading to infections, you’d think everyone who has stuck around this long in the fight against HIV would be simply gushing about PrEP, overly ecstatic about a new way for these pills that already save millions of lives to save a few thousand more.
You’d think we’d all be yawping from the roofs of the world about this possibility.
Yet every day I meet gay guys who have never heard that they could take a pill a day and keep the HIV away.
That’s a FUCKING EPIC FAILURE in my book.
That’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
5.
My young friend’s friends think he’s HIV-positive. All because he now has HIV meds in his possession.
Before you start your tsk-tsk-tsking, remember that a bottle of Truvada kept in a medicine cabinet attracts HIV stigma like a lightning rod.
Both Truvada and a lightning rod protect, but only Truvada has 2 really toxic side effects that make AIDS Healthcare Foundation hit the streets with pitchforks and press releases:
1) It can cause an African woman to be beaten in front of her neighbors if found in her possession.
2) It almost always leads to judgments and rejections for the rest of your living days.
And that’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
6.
We gotta work through this crap.
We are gay men rejecting gay men living with HIV.
And we do it thinking we just dodged a bullet, proud to have drummed away the damaged goods. We believe it keeps us safe.
We ALL do it. Or have done it. We do it every day. Every hour.
Every gay guy knows this crap we throw at poz guys.
This is the sour truth that makes most gay guys afraid to test.
They know firsthand the crap we throw at poz guys, the judgments and rejections for the rest of your living days.
And—suddenly--they realize they might become one of ‘THEM.’
Now this crap has become a wall between us and the most powerful prevention tool we have to this day discovered.
That’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
7.
PrEP is the first thing in 30+ years proven to lower rates of infection for the gays –-by 42% --and that was when it was used imperfectly by gay boys, and before it was known to work.
42% doesn’t sound like a lot. But do the math.
Look up on Google the number of gay men/trans women newly diagnosed with HIV in your favorite city.
Multiply that number by .42.
Now stare at that number, and you’ll get an idea of how many people we might have kept from a lifetime of daily pill-taking -- if we wanted to.
Hold that number in your mind’s eye, and make a mantra of when it was used imperfectly.
Better yet, hold your breath and meditate on this: if we wanted to.
Do this, and you’ll know why I made “’THE KEY.’
8.
HIV is the most stigmatized disease I know.
Gay men are the most stigmatized people I know.
There’s some sick poetry in this correlation between the two. It makes me hear Kurt Cobain singing:
WITH THE LIGHTS OUT, IT’S LESS DANGEROUS
These days, it’s my theme song. My mantra.
In seven words, Nirvana captures a mindset and makes of it an epitaph to lay to rest the results of 30+ years of HIV prevention in the minds of gay men.
That’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
9.
Miss Honey loves her Molotov cocktails, as much as she loves poppers and ass.
I ran into her Monday night on the 3rd floor of Club Z, drunk off her ass again. We both had to piss, but she was the first one to pull out her cock and write a message on the carpet:
THIS AIN’T NO MISS GAY TUSKEGEE PAGEANT
SO FUCK YOUR VACCINE THAT MADE ME SUSCEPTIBLE
AND GIVE ME PrEP
I pissed myself laughing. She then turned like a Queen back to her room with her cock still out and sang to all the cocksuckers:
ONE DAY
MY PRINCE
WILL CUM!
And that’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
10.
‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ is the soundtrack to my sex life, and not because I live in Seattle.
I meet guys at sex parties who freak out around any talk of HIV and assume if you bring it up that you have HIV.
I meet guys online who choose sex partners through a terse tango we all quickly learn whose dance steps have accompanying lyrics which can be sung to the melody of “Hernando’s Hideaway:”
“You clean?”
”Yeah. You?”
“Yeah. Wanna fuck?”
I meet guys in bathhouses who slam meth and believe that olive oil used as lubricant will kill HIV.
I meet these guys, and I hear in my head that guitar riff that launched Kurt into the stars with barely the chance to leave behind his letter to Boddah.
I meet guys, and sometimes that riff becomes a chainsaw.
And that’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
11.
You’d think that at least all the gay guys who work in The HIV Biz would be oversharing with all their friends and fuck buddies the good news about PrEP.
You’d think at least they would be recommending it to their gay clients, supplying all the information they can find about PrEP, dreaming up ways for ALL OF US who can’t afford it to access it.
With the good news about PrEP, you’d think we would at least be witnessing an orgy of activity on that mythic grassroots level.
But none of the gay guys working in The HIV Biz here in Progressive Seattle seem to care much for oversharing, let alone recommending, supplying, or dreaming.
That’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
12.
Here’s a little secret for you.
Seattle often refers to herself as Progressive.
It’s the adjective she’s been in An Open Relationship with for decades.
You always see them hanging together in those declarative sentences that make our Starbucks warm havens for Microsoft employees.
However, you should know that it’s not really An Open Relationship.
Drop by for a drink after work at any of Seattle’s gay bars, and I’ll introduce you to some Queens who can tell you stories about Seattle, if you’ll buy them all a drink.
Get them a little tipsy, and they can tell you tales of how she’s been stepping out on Progressive with other adjectives, including --but not limited to-- Complacent, Conservative, and Racist.
And, believe me, these Queens should know.
And that’s why I made ‘THE KEY.’
13.
My Candle in the Wind has blown out.
That’s why I made ‘The Key.’
This video originally appeared on Jake Sobo’s blog “The Time For Debate is Over. The Time to Implement PrEP is Now” here.
About Magpie Suddenly:
A boy. A faggot. A poet. A singer. An actor. A director. A photographer. A high school teacher. A pot head. A baker of bread. A disease intervention specialist. A videographer. A pornographer. A cashier. A tutor. A shoe salesmen to strippers and drag queens. A sex shop clerk. A partner. An HIV advocate. An amateur sex therapist. A community liaison. A boyfriend. A chair. A trick. An assistant artistic director. A drummer. A wounded healer. A fuck buddy. A faerie. A daddy. A man.
I’m not trying to be disingenuous. I know that beyond being lucky and privileged, I have access to PrEP because I’ve taken some very concrete steps as well. I did lots of introspection. I tried to reduce my risk as much as possible through other means. I did a lot of research. I actively sought out access. I make sure I’m very diligent about taking my pills.
Reaching undetectable never seemed like a significant milestone to me. I waited for my CD4-cell count to drop below 400 (about 18 months after my initial diagnosis) before I made the decision to begin antiretroviral therapy. My viral load, which was never extremely high, has been undetectable on every test since I started HIV meds in 2006.
At the time I was told I was HIV positive, I was placed on meds and did not have any idea how being undetectable would help me. When I had been on the meds for at least three months I returned to the doctor after lab work and was told I was undetectable. I knew I was feeling better after the meds; but after being told what undetectable was and how it would affect my life, I need to say I was on TOP OF THE WORLD and have stayed that way since then. It meant the world to me and changed my life, for the better. I got busy living.
I'm on the last combination I can try. I take a lot of pills. ... There's a part of me that's been very frustrated, extremely frustrated, with the fact that I've had it really hard when it comes to HIV. I've never had an undetectable viral load until three years ago ... Twenty-six years with virus in my blood, no matter what I did, no matter how many conferences I went to, no matter how many papers I read ... I felt like a loser, like a failure -- really, they call us "failure patients."
Over the past few years I have really fought and struggled to get my viral load down. It's been 23 years that I have been positive, and in the beginning it was just keeping your T cells up. Then the viral load was added. I was so freaked out when they told me my viral load was in the millions and we needed to change my meds to get it to undetectable. I did what was recommended but it wasn't working for me as they thought it would.
Eight months after I was diagnosed with HIV, my gastroenterologist that was taking care of my liver issues did some blood work, and my HIV viral load was undetectable without any medication. I didn't realize that that was anything significant or insignificant at the time, until maybe eight or 10 years later when my GI doctor mentioned it to me. I went on a regimen of Epivir (lamivudine -- also used to treat HIV, in different combinations with a higher dose) and Hepsera (adefovir) for my hepatitis B, which since I've been on it has been undetectable as well. Except for one blip, my HIV viral load has been undetectable.
I was diagnosed August 2007. By January 2009, I made the count-dependent decision to start meds. It took me longer than three months to become undetectable. If it had taken me any longer my provider was going to change my regimen, fearing a possible resistance. The day I heard "undetectable" finally came before he had to, and my virus has remained undetectable since. :) I was ELATED!
After being sick in 2005, I have been taking the antiretroviral combination that has kept my virus at undetectable levels, and allowed me to enjoy really good health. With God's grace, and enough desire to live well, I have been able to adhere pretty well to this regimen. My oldest granddaughter was 2 years old at the time. Now she is 9, and I have two other granddaughters, a grandson, and a set of boy/girl twins! I play softball and golf, take flying lessons, I am of service to my community, and I am blessed to share my experience and hope with you.
When I was told my viral load was undetectable I felt 100 pounds lighter. My greatest challenge was getting to an undetectable status. I had multidrug resistance so getting to undetectable was a milestone.
THAT was another day, I remember with clarity. Waking up and dreading my doctor's appointment, because I knew I was going to get my blood-work results, and because I was about sick and tired of injecting myself. I was tired of Fuzeon (infuvirtide, T-20), I was tired of medication, I was just tired of it all.
February 1996, four years after being given my HIV diagnosis, I found myself lying in a hospital bed, and hearing that I now have AIDS. My CD4 count was 131. I needed to add more medication. When I was initially diagnosed in 1992, I had 896 CD4 and my first doctor put me on AZT monotherapy. After a friend found an infectious disease specialist I was switched to Zerit and Epivir.
