by Anne Conley
Sleepless in Spokane
Dear Sleepless,
First of all, clarification needs to be made between HIV and AIDS. HIV is the virus that causes AIDS, which is a syndrome that develops later.
You need to get tested immediately. Sometimes it takes as long as three to six months for the virus to show up in your bloodstream, so get tested again at three months, then again at six months to be sure. However, unless the guy had open cuts or sores on his penis, you are probably at a very low risk, since you didn't swallow any fluids (pre-cum does count, but not too risky, depending on this guy's hypothetical viral load). No known cases of HIV or AIDS have been documented from fingering. If I were you, I'd get tested for everything, though. You are more likely to have gotten herpes or some other STD. As with most medical questions, though, I encourage you to ask your health care provider, as I am not trained to dispense medical advice. Just suggestions.
Rachel nonMD
This column is not meant to substitute for a visit to a doctor. This is advice about living with HIV.
Speaking of doctors, Rachel had a doctor's appointment in thirty minutes. She shut the laptop and changed quickly, before hopping into her nineteen ninety-seven Impalla with the electric purple paint job. It was a good deal, and it ran great, as long as the alternator was doing okay. She had had it rebuilt twice and didn't relish the idea of buying a new one. It was on her list of things to get around to eventually.
Dr. Baine's news wasn't as good as Rachel hoped it would be, but then again, how good could it get?
"Your CD4 levels have gone down. Not alarmingly so, but they're lower than I would like for them to be. In three months, if they are still going down, and your viral load becomes detectable, we may have to change your treatment. We'll try Atripla, which includes a different class of antivirals you haven't used before. We'll give it a shot and see how it works. Of course, this could just be a glitch and they'll be back up to normal next visit. You never know."
He was so blasé, which was why Rachel liked Dr. Baine. He was a middle-aged man, fit, not too hard on the eyes, and didn't over-react to stuff.
"Your viral load is still undetectable, and that's good, we just need to get the T cells back up where they need to be. You still taking your vitamins?"
"Yes, and my superfluous birth control and my ever-leveling anti-depressants. I take more medicines daily than a ninety six-year-old woman. You should see my pill box." This earned her a grimace from Dr. Baine.
"Well, good. Your liver and kidney levels look fine, as does everything else for now. We'll see you in three months to check those CD4 levels as well as your CD4%, and possibly start a new regimen. Okay?"
"Sure. Thanks." She hopped off the exam table and left the office, after writing a huge check to pay for all the lab work that wasn't covered by her insurance. Checking the time on her phone, she realized she'd gotten a text from Cindy, her friend who worked at the state Health and Human Services branch here in Serendipity.
Can you run by real quick before you pick up Sophie? I want to talk to you about something.
She texted back: I just have a minute. Are you at the office?
Cindy replied before she'd gotten her seat belt buckled. Yes. I just need to run something by you. It won't take a minute.
Rachel started the car and texted back: Sure. Be there in a sec.
The good thing about Serendipity was that it took all of ten minutes to drive across town. Cindy looked frazzled as usual when Rachel got there.
"I've got ten minutes. What's up?"
"There's a Health Fair at the Methodist Church on Saturday." Cindy's cheerful voice belied her disheveled appearance.
Rachel sighed inwardly. "You know I don’t meet with people in person, Cin."
"Yeah, I know, but think of all the country bumpkins you can educate," Cindy teased.
"I don't think so, Cindy. I don't do public stuff." Rachel was terrified of her situation getting out around town. Serendipity wasn't the smallest town in Texas, but it seemed to pride itself on its small town mentality, and gossip could be brutal. She didn't want anything to come back to Sophia in a negative way.
"Hundreds of people come to these things, Rachel. You could really open some eyes in this town, if you had a booth in it. You of all people know how valuable this could be."
"I know, but I just don't feel comfortable putting myself out there like that. I've got Sophie to think about, here. I get enough hate mail just from the website. I don't need it from people I know."
Cindy laughed, her ever present good nature calming Rachel's nerves a little. "You don't know anybody here, Rachel. You never leave your house."
"You make me sound agoraphobic. I do too leave my house. I go to PTA meetings. I take Sophie to school. I volunteer there a lot. I do stuff."
"Whatever. Just think about it?"
Rachel put her finger on her chin, affecting a thoughtful pose. "Hmm…No. Happy?"
"No, and I'm going to try again next year. But I guess I understand."
"Great, I gotta go get Sophie. Anything else?"
"When are we going for drinks? You look like you could use a night out."
"Not anytime soon. I've got a couple of deadlines on the site stuff coming up, and after that, who knows? I'm so busy all the time. I don't understand. It's not like I have a real job." She was joking. The pharmaceutical advertisers who paid her for her website, were unbelievably picky about their criteria. They wanted a certain number of posts each week, and she struggled with putting correct information out for the public.
Cindy gave her a look, "You're being flaky."
Rachel's alarm on her phone went off, signaling the time to pick up Sophia, so she made her excuses to Cindy and headed to the elementary school.
She was able to focus on her disappointment while she waited for the bell to ring. She had made the mistake of getting her hopes up, while her CT4 levels were in the normal range and her viral load undetectable. That pretty much meant that Rachel felt like a normal person. As long as her white blood cells were at the levels they were supposed to be, and her viral load was undetectable, then she was healthy. For about three years, Rachel had almost allowed herself to feel ordinary. It had been fun while it lasted.
Unfortunately, levels fluctuate. Rachel tried not to dwell on it, but the familiar "what if" panic reared its head at her, and she had to just be thankful that she didn't have the ability to check her levels every day. She would be worse than a dieter with a scale. Rachel was careful to take her medications at the same time every day, in the morning while she brushed her teeth, because adherence is key to staying healthy. She knew that there weren't endless choices for treatment, and the longer she preserved her options, the better off she would be.
Focusing on the brickwork of the school building, she refused to cry. Rachel reminded herself she had to stay positive for Sophia. By some miracle of God, Sophia was unscathed by this disease, and Rachel did everything in her power to make sure their lives stayed that way. Sophia knew her mom was HIV positive, and she was aware of the ramifications of the disease, but Rachel didn't harp on the negative aspects, and they didn't make a big deal out of it. It was just a part of her life.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the pleasant distraction of Sam's long-legged form walking in front of her car to stand in position against the brick pillar in front of the school.
Rachel sighed like a teenager in love, as she watched him amble down the sidewalk, in worn cowboy boots, faded jeans that hung low on his hips, and a plaid shirt that stretched across his shoulders that looked softer than her seven hundred thread count sheets. He was yummy.
She thought back to the night two weeks ago, when he'd come to his door fresh from the shower. He might as well have been naked, her imagination had gone into overdrive. His moist skin in that tanktop undershirt, with steam rising from it. Her mouth went dry at the memory. Looking at him now, she reminded herself that it was a good thing she had made him so mad, even if she still cou
ldn't find Meemaw's ring. If he hadn't been so mad at her, she would have been tempted to be neighborly and spend more time with him. Judging by the interest she'd noticed in his eyes, she might have just forgotten herself.
Rachel was still staring at him, lost in her memories of him in his undershirt, trying to remember what the tattoo on his bicep was, when he turned and caught her.
Busted.
He didn't smile, but he did give her an off-handed wave, that could have meant anything. She wasn't sure if he was still mad at her or not. He hadn't come back over, but he hadn't kept Amanda from coming back over, either. Maybe Rachel needed to make a gesture, to stay on friendly terms with him.
Why did she need to be on friendly terms with him? If she wanted to ogle him, she could do it every day, right here. She didn't need to be making overtures. Jeez, what had gotten into her? She waved back, forcing a smile on her face and turned to study her steering wheel.
Chapter 5
As firefighters approach a structure that is going to be searched, they should consider the time of day and familiarize themselves with the type of building construction, anticipated occupancy (residential or commercial), and locations of windows and doors that may be useful as emergency exits should a problem develop during the building search. --From Firefighter's Handbook, Essentials of Firefighting and Emergency Response
Sam should have seen it coming. After the first week on the job, he'd had his shampoo replaced with barbecue sauce, his face dusted with flour while he slept, had firecrackers thrown under the bathroom stall while he was taking a shit, and been covered with glitter when he turned on the a/c vents in the truck on the one warm day they'd had. He took it all with a grain of salt, knowing he wasn't the only one. Juan's birthday was yesterday, and the guys had all gone out on a "call" and managed to duct tape Juan to a tree as a prank. Still, the powdered kool-aid in his sleeping bag had been sort of funny, and he wondered how long his feet would be blue.
So when the call came in, and the guys recognized the address as a Mrs. Brigsby, and they sent Sam and Cade, he should have thought something was up. Except, everybody else had said she was a "regular" and he thought he knew what that meant. Every fire department had them. A senior, who got trigger happy when they discovered that help would come at the touch of a button. Usually a little old widow who needed a big strong man to help her with something. That's what Sam thought, anyway…Of course, that's what he got for thinking in the first place.
The calls up until this one had been relatively routine, and Sam was thankful for that. Minor car accidents, a man trapped in his tractor tire, numerous false alarms, it wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before.
When they arrived at the address, Cade said, "She probably needs a light bulb replaced. Sweet old lady, but I'm just not in the mood today. Do you mind going in by yourself? Just radio if it's something serious." Sam nodded and got out of the truck, wondering what the sweet lady wanted.
He entered her house and was rendered speechless when he found Mrs. Brigsby in her bedroom, laid out on the bed, obviously expecting him.
She had to be in her eighties, with blued hair, neatly coifed. What got to Sam though, and made him realize that he'd been pranked, yet again, was the fact that she was wearing a leather bustier, black lace panties, and fishnet stockings. And she was handcuffed to her bed.
"Oh there you are! I was wondering when one of you boys would show up. I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a pickle." Squinting her eyes at Sam, she asked, "You new? I don't think we've met."
Sam bit his tongue. "How did you manage to get yourself handcuffed, Mrs. Brigsby?"
"Oh, I didn't do it myself, Rodney was here. But he got mad and left in a huff."
"How did you call us, if you were handcuffed?"
She pointed to a button on her bed post. "Rodney thought it would be funny for me to have to call y'all. He left my life-alert button where I could reach it. Little does he know, I'm on a first-name basis with most of the Serendipity Fire Department. You are?"
"Sam," he grumbled. Retrieving a handcuff key from his pack, Sam said, "Well, I can get you out, ma'am." He had added handcuff keys to his pack a couple of years ago, after he'd had to cut a little boy out of a pair of cuffs he'd found. The keys were relatively universal, only a few keys unlocked the cuffs. His policeman buddy had told him where to get them.
She looked him squarely in the eyes. "You know, you don't necessarily have to get me out." Mrs. Brigsby winked at him, making Sam blush.
"Um…I think it's best if I do." He walked over to one of her hands and unlocked the cuff before leaning over and unlocking the other side. She sat up in the bed, completely unashamed of her appearance in front of a stranger.
"Are you sure? I may look old, but I assure you, what I lack in looks, I make up for in experience."
"Yes ma'am. I'm sure. Thank you for the offer, though. I'm uh…flattered." Sam could feel heat rising on his cheeks.
Mrs. Brigsby pouted, "Well, okay then."
"I've got to get back to the station, Mrs. Brigsby. Don't make Rodney mad anymore, okay?"
"Don't count on it." The little old lady fluttered her eyelashes and made a pouty face at Sam. "He's just jealous."
"I'm sure he is." Unable to think of anything to say, Sam turned and left the room, thankful to leave.
Back at the truck, Cade was grinning from ear to ear. Sam opened the truck, threw himself inside, and slammed the door shut.
"Let's get the hell out of here," he growled.
"What was it this time? Was something stuck inside her again?"
Sam raised his eyebrows at Cade's laughter, "Ew…No. She was handcuffed to her bed."
"Rodney gets mad at her a lot. I think it's some weird sex game they play. I just hope when I'm that old, I can still get it up enough to play games like that with my wife."
"So we get regular calls on their kinky sex games gone wrong? Shit…"
The radio sputtered to life, announcing a call on a house fire. Cade and Sam raced back to the station to get suited up.
The neighbor watching the blaze said she didn't think the house was occupied. The flames were licking at an upstairs window, and the house seemed to be only about thirty percent aflame.
Chief Bennet assessed the situation and began barking orders, "Owens, Suarez, make sure the house is unoccupied. Smith, Kowalsky hose one, Beattie, Simmons, hose two. Move it!" Everybody jumped into action.
Juan and Sam pulled their masks over their faces and went in, being careful to keep the wall to their left as they moved around the inside of the house.
The downstairs of the house was relatively unscathed. They did a quick room search, verifying that no one was inside. Upstairs, the smoke was denser, and Sam could feel the heat. Making a sweep of the upstairs, Juan and Sam passed a doorway, and Juan halted Sam.
"You hear that, man?"
Sam stood still, listening. Underneath the sound of licking flames, he heard a vague whimpering from behind a door nearest him. Entering the room, they found a small Pekingese dog locked in a crate in the corner. Unlatching the crate, Sam tried to coax the animal out, but to no avail. The dog was clearly terrified, but they had to check for human survivors before the firefighters could rescue the animal. Turning his back on the creature, Sam motioned for Juan to follow him down the hall to the rest of the rooms.
Sam and Juan worked well together, using standard operating procedure they were both familiar with to quickly search the house. Finding no other occupants, they returned to the room, finding the dog huddled exactly where they'd left it. Scooping it into his arms, Sam followed Juan down the stairs and out the front door.
As he pulled off his mask, a photographer's flash went off, momentarily blinding Sam, before he was clapped on his back. Chagrined, he walked through a crowd of bystanders to the truck before wrapping the dog in a blanket and letting it breathe from his oxygen tank. It was stupid, he knew, but animals got scared during a fire, and he'd seen enough dogs burn alive
trying to rescue their masters that he felt a strong desire to do what he could for this one, who'd been locked up and defenseless.
"Good job, man." Juan walked up behind him. "Not bad for our first rodeo together, huh?"
"Yeah, not a bad fire either. I wish they were all like this one." They watched in silence as the rest of the crew pointed hoses at the dwindling flames.
"Well, they won't be. It was probably a good warm up for what's to come for you though."
"Yeah." Sam was pensive. He'd been a firefighter for eleven years and had seen some bad ones. As far as fires went, this one was a breeze. But he and Juan had worked well together, and that was a good thing. They were able to put aside any hard feelings about the pranks, and work together as a team. Sam was glad about that. He felt lonely here in this new town and was glad that he had a guy that he might actually call a friend.
Chapter 6
From Remainingrachel.com
Dear Rachel,
Yesterday, I found out I am HIV positive. What do I do now? I'm freaking out, and don't know what to do first.
Helpless in Detroit
Dear Helpless,
First thing's first. Breathe. Next thing, you need a support group. I'm not talking about an HIV support group, although those can be helpful. I'm talking about a personal support group, namely friends and family. Before you go telling everybody you know, ask yourself two questions: 1. What do you hope to gain from this person knowing you are HIV positive? If it is something that will help you adjust, then tell them. If it won't help you, then don't tell them, yet. 2. How will this person knowing about your condition affect you? If the answer is positively, then tell them. If they would react negatively, don't tell them yet, unless it's a sexual partner. If it's a sexual partner, these questions are null and void. You have to tell a sexual partner if you are diagnosed with HIV. Period.