by Nikki Turner
“Girl, calm your nerves,” I said to myself as I caught a glimpse of my worried face in the mirror. Sweat was running down my forehead, which was a sure sign of nervousness, since the central air had that building feeling like the North Pole. “You can get through any situation, so don’t let this one break you down.” I’ve been in worse predicaments than this, and it’s not like I never had an abortion before. However, I felt so guilty the last time I had one that I had vowed that it would be the last time.
After taking a moment to get myself together and downing two cups of coffee, I made my way back into the office just in time to hear the nurse calling me.
“Yes, I’m right here,” I quickly responded as I rushed through the door and ran over to greet her.
“You made it just in time,” she joked. “Follow me, please.” She gave me a warm, charming smile as she escorted me to an empty office. “Dr. Lawrence will be in to see you shortly.”
“Thank you.” I sat down, thinking over how my life was about to change, maybe for good, maybe for bad. One thing I knew for certain was that I wasn’t having another abortion. Maybe this baby could be my blessing in disguise. Maybe this child could change my goal from becoming the world’s greatest singer to becoming the world’s greatest mother. There are plenty of single parents out there, and they’re doing just fine. I’m not going to put myself through the embarrassing hassle of trying to find out who fathered this child. I’m going to do it all by myself. I’m going to give this child the love, attention, and support that my parents didn’t give me. You know, the more I thought about the situation, the more comfortable I became with the idea of being someone’s mom. Imagine someone calling me Mommy!
In the midst of my thoughts, the door opened and Dr. Lawrence and some white lady walked in. I didn’t know if she was a nurse, another doctor, or an intern, but I did know that I didn’t want a stranger all up in my business. Doctors’ appointments are always private and confidential, so it was a safe bet that this extra ear in the room wasn’t sitting right with me.
“Hello, Melissa. Nice seeing you again. I hope you feel a little bit better than you did yesterday.”
“Well, I didn’t get any rest last night, so I feel a bit tired. When your office called and told me to come back into the office today, I got extremely nervous.”
“I understand your worries. The doctor’s office is always the last place anyone wants to go.” Dr. Lawrence then looked over at the white lady and gave a sort of sign for her to introduce herself, so she began talking.
“Hello, Melissa. My name is Dr. Linda Bloomsburg. I’m a licensed psychologist and on-staff counselor for the majority of Dr. Lawrence’s patients. One thing I want to make clear before we explain why I’m present during your visit is that everything that’s discussed in this office is strictly confidential and will never leave our office without your written consent.”
Now, I’d been in plenty of doctors’ offices to get pregnancy tests done, but that was the first time I’d had a counselor present. This must be some high-class fancy shit, but hey, I can live with it.
Dr. Lawrence opened a folder and began talking to me again. “Let me first tell you that we have the results of your pregnancy test. I ran two different tests on you, a urine test and a blood test, and they both came back.”
Here comes the moment of truth. By this time I wasn’t the least bit concerned about the situation anymore. All I wanted to do was find out the truth as quickly as possible so I could make preparations to deliver a healthy baby and get back in shape, if I was in fact pregnant.
“Both tests came back negative. You aren’t pregnant, Melissa.”
I was sort of disappointed, because I was just getting used to the idea of being a mother. On the other hand, I was utterly grateful that my body wasn’t going to get stretched out like a pair of small tights on a three-hundred-pound woman.
“Oh, that’s good to know,” I replied. “At least now I get to plan my pregnancy for a more convenient time in my life.”
I was smiling and feeling pleased with the good news, but then I noticed that the doctors were exchanging a look.
“Melissa,” Dr. Lawrence continued. “Our lab noticed something when they collected your blood sample for the pregnancy test. Now, I don’t want you to get alarmed, because they could be wrong, so we’re going to need more blood to run some more tests.”
“Well, what did they find in my blood, or think they found in my blood, should I say?”
“The results showed some HIV antibodies in your blood sample. However, we’re going to conduct a rapid test today, which will confirm or dismiss our lab’s assumption.”
She was rambling, talking a bunch of medical terminology, but I was still stuck on, “The results showed some HIV antibodies in your blood sample.” I felt light-headed. I knew I had heard her incorrectly.
“Did you say HIV? What the fuck do you mean by ‘HIV antibodies in your blood sample’? I came here for a fucking pregnancy test, not to hear any bullshit like this.”
Dr. Bloomsburg then pulled her chair closer to me. At that moment I understood why she was present. These motherfuckers knew I was going to go off, so they had a psychologist present to help calm me down. Well, they should have had the United States Army up in there, because I was about to explode like a ticking time bomb.
“I know you’re feeling confused, upset, frustrated, and stressed-out right now, but I’m here to help you through this transition. Let’s take the rapid test to see what measures we have to take next. There have been cases where the labs have been wrong, and we’re praying that this is one of them. The best thing to do now is to remain calm and levelheaded.”
“Bitch, you can remain calm. I’m the one who’s being told that I may have a disease that will make me extremely sick and then kill my ass. I’m the one being told that I may have a disease there’s no fucking cure for.”
The rage in my voice made Dr. Bloomsburg back the hell up out of my face. I wanted to kill her for even suggesting that I remain calm and levelheaded. “Melissa, many people are living healthy and normal lives after finding out that they are HIV positive. Times have changed, and we’re getting closer and closer to finding a cure. However, in the meantime, there are many medications and therapy treatments that have proven effective.”
Then tears began to flow from my eyes like the Mississippi River. I fell out of my chair onto the floor. “Why me, Lord? Why me? Haven’t I already suffered enough?”
“This is not the time to give up. We have to take more tests, and then if you are in fact infected, we have to do all we can to keep you alive. I won’t sit and tell you that it’s going to be an easy road, but I can say that if you fight this disease, you’ll stand a greater chance of survival.”
My body was numb to the point that I could barely speak clearly. There were so many questions and regrets piercing my mind. Who gave me this disease? Who did I pass it on to? Why didn’t I strap up every time I slept with someone? If I am in fact HIV positive, I’m going to kill myself before it kills me. There’s no way I’m living my life like that.
After a long, drawn-out discussion, I agreed to take the rapid HIV test to see if I was infected with the disease. So once again I was back at the lab having my blood drawn for what could be the most devastating news a person could ever hear. As the phlebotomist wrapped the tourniquet around my arm and looked for my vein, I burst into tears. I wanted to pull my arm away and go home to take my life on my own terms, but I couldn’t do it without actually knowing if I had this atrocious disease.
After my blood sample was collected, I was told to go back upstairs. When I returned to the office, Dr. Bloomsburg was still in the room reviewing my chart. In an awkward kind of way, she tried to pacify me, but to tell the truth, I was angry and didn’t want to hear a word she had to say. This was routine for her. She had probably sat in front of a million motherfuckers and dropped a bomb on their lives. I wasn’t trying to hear all that medication, therapy, and prayer shi
t. The fact still remained that this disease was going to kill me one day; maybe not tomorrow, but one day.
I was angry with all the men I had fucked. I was angry with these doctors and the lab for telling me that I may have this disease. But most important, I was angry with myself. How could I do this to myself? I knew that HIV was alive and very much real, but I had never in a million years thought it would catch up with my ass.
For about thirty minutes, I sat and listened to Dr. Bloomsburg telling me how healthy I could be should the test results come back against me. The bitch even popped in some bullshit DVD titled Making Ways Out of No Way. From the look of things, she was pretty convinced that I had the disease. She kept telling me to have hope, but on the other hand she was preparing me for the worst.
After waiting for what felt like a billion hours, Dr. Lawrence returned to the office with a folder in her hand. She didn’t have to say a word; the look on her face said it all. Instantly I began to cry hysterically. My life as I knew it was over. I’d made poor decisions and now I would have to pay the price for them.
Dr. Lawrence sat down and said, “Melissa, you have to be strong at this stage. If you want to live, you have to give. You have to give your all, and fight like you’ve never fought before. Don’t let this disease beat you.”
Despite the doctor’s positive words, all I heard was, “You’re going to die. You’re going to suffer in the worst way before you die alone.”
After taking more tests and listening to more bullshit, I finally went home. I had never felt so empty. For a while I just sat in the house and cried. I’m pretty sure I lost my job, since I didn’t make the effort to call in, which meant that I would be living on the streets very soon; what else was new? I didn’t bother to take a bath, change my clothes, or even pick up the phone when my co-workers and a couple of guy friends tried to call me. They were all going to cut me off once they found out I was HIV positive anyway, so I might as well beat them to the punch.
I was sitting in misery one afternoon when I heard a knock on the door. As usual, I ignored it and kept watching TV. Suddenly I heard the door opening, which caused me to jump out of my seat. “Who is coming into my fucking house?” I yelled.
“Your house,” the woman repeated. “I sent your ass countless letters and you’ve ignored them all. You see, when you don’t pay your rent and you don’t show up for court and then turn around and ignore the notices on your door that say you have to be out of here by a certain day, which was yesterday, this is what happens.” It was my nagging-ass landlord. She was coming in to put me out on my ass in the middle of The Young and the Restless.
“Look, Sheila, I’m sick, which caused me to lose my job. I’m going through something right now, but I promise I’ll get you your money. I have no money right now and nowhere to go.”
“That sounds like a problem for you to deal with just like I have to deal with the problem of you not paying your rent. I should have put you out a long time ago, but I gave you chance after chance. Now I have someone ready to move in here as soon as tomorrow, and I need your shit out of here. So these strong men are going to take your stuff out piece by piece until this motherfucker is empty. You can help them speed up the process.”
She was being a total bitch, which was understandable, considering that I’d been ignoring her notices. I tried to plead with her to give me one more chance, but it was a losing battle; she wasn’t hearing that shit.
I stood outside as three guys carried my furniture out to the street. Everyone was out on their front stoops looking at me and laughing. So now I’m dying, homeless, and humiliated. What reason do I have to live at this point? I looked horrible, smelled foul, and felt like shit. I didn’t have the money to buy a soda, much less rent a U-Haul truck, and then have to turn around and pay a storage fee. So I said fuck it and told my junkie neighbors to have a ball with my belongings.
As if things could get any worse, in the midst of the turmoil, Reggie and White Boy drove past laughing. Typically I would have felt ashamed, but to my surprise I began to laugh too, which caused them to stop the car and roll the windows down. “Damn girl, you look fucked-up,” White Boy joked. “This is what happens to people who are disloyal to the family.”
“Yeah, I may look fucked-up on the outside, but bitch, both of you are fucked-up on the inside.” I began laughing harder than before. “Seems like we all got something in common.”
Reggie looked over at White Boy like I was insane before turning to me and asking, “What could we possibly have in common with each other? From what I see, we have somewhere to lay our heads tonight and you don’t.”
“Don’t worry about where I’m going to sleep tonight. Worry about how you’re going to sleep from here on out. That’s all I have to say. It was nice knowing both of you gentlemen, but as you can see, I have my own problems to attend to.”
“Ah, shut the fuck up, bitch,” White Boy interjected. “Take your raggedy ass somewhere and take a fucking shower. You look dirty as shit. I’m almost ashamed to have fucked your slutty ass.”
Hearing those words were the therapy that I needed. It’s funny how God can use something negative to make you do positive things.
“Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll go and do that right now. But most important, thanks for making me see the bright side of my current situation.”
I waved to them as they pulled off, thinking they had gotten the best of me. It wasn’t until then that I realized that the same motherfuckers who had nicknamed me FFB might have HIV. Looks like we all have three initials tagged to our name now.
I got into my car. The only thing I had with me was a change of clothes, my phone book, a pen and pad, and my medical records.
I was experiencing a life-changing epiphany. I began to reassess my life and the decisions that I’d made and really wished there was a way for me to save others from making the same mistakes. Maybe my misfortune could shed light on the evils of the industry to a young woman who wants to become famous and thinks she can do it by pleasing others at all cost.
With the last drop of money that I had saved under my mattress, I bought some stamps and envelopes, filled up my tank, and prepared to jump back on the highway. It’s strange but when I was driving to Atlanta I didn’t know where I was heading. But now, driving away from there, I knew exactly where I needed to be. Before taking the long drive I had a couple of phone calls to make. I couldn’t just walk away from this city without calling a few people.
The first person I called was Amanda. I didn’t give her a chance to curse me out and hang up on me. “Hello. I know you may not want to talk to me, but I just called to tell you that I’m moving back to Pennsylvania and wanted to thank you for all you did for me. I know we both said things to each other that we didn’t mean, but I do love and appreciate you.”
To my surprise, she didn’t hang up. It was as if she was actually happy that I called. “So you’re giving up on your dreams and moving back home? You never seemed like the quitting type to me.”
“No, I’m not giving up on my dreams. I finally realized that my priorities were backward. Look, there’s no point in me hiding this from you, so let me just come out and say it.” I took a deep breath. “I found out that I am HIV positive.”
There was an extended period of silence on the other end of the receiver. “Are you sure?”
“Girl, I’m positive that I’m positive,” I joked, trying to make the best of my misfortune. “Look, I already cried and put blame on everyone else, but at the end of the day, I am totally at fault. I’m going back home to find myself, because somewhere in the process of me joining Pretty in Pink and moving out here, I got lost.”
Amanda began apologizing for all the evil things she had said and I did the same. It felt good to finally tell someone that I was infected and have them still accept me as their friend. She tried to convince me to stay and even asked me to move back in with her, but my mind was made up and I knew I had to get the hell out of Atlanta.
“Even if I wanted to stay I’d still have to leave. A lot of motherfuckers are going to be looking for me when they find out I gave them that shit. Some of them I’m kind of happy about. But I feel sorry for their girlfriends that they cheated on and may have infected. I especially know Reggie and Fatz are coming after me.”
“Wait a minute!” Amanda yelled. “Did you fuck Fatz after I told you not to?”
“Girl, I had already fucked him before I met you. It was some wild shit that went on in his truck but I did continue to sleep with him after you told me not to.”
“Melissa … Melissa, girl, he’s the one who gave you that shit. That’s why I told you not to fuck with him. A close friend of mine told me that he had that shit and gave it to her cousin. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but I always warned people when they said they’d met him. He’s the one who gave you that shit. I swear, I just know it.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Fatz. Fatz has HIV. Why the hell is he going around fucking women without wearing a condom? Shit, why is he even fucking anyone at all? I couldn’t talk long with Amanda because I had a long day ahead of me, so I promised to keep in touch with her and prepared to make my second call, which would be the hardest of all.
“Hello,” the soft voice answered. It’s funny but in all the years of my knowing this woman, her voice had never sounded so warm and comforting.
“Hi, Mommy,” I hesitantly replied. “How are you?”
She paused before stumbling on her words. “Melissa. Melissa, baby, is that you?”
“Yes, Mommy it’s me,” I answered as I began crying uncontrollably.
“Thank you, Lord. I knew you would answer my prayers.” My mother began to cry and praise God all at once. “Baby, where are you?”
“I’m in Atlanta right now, but I’m on my way home. Is Daddy nearby?”
“Your father is sitting right here with tears in his eyes. We’ve missed you so much and even hired detectives to find you. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you, baby. What time is your flight coming in?”