HIV is one of those taboo subjects. Everyone keeps very quiet about it and no one wants to talk about it. When you visit a sexual health clinic, your records are kept totally separate from your normal hospital records, nothing is ever sent to your GP and you’re forever refering to yourself by number and not your name.
I’ve just experienced some of the most petrifying few days of my life so far, and all because I’m a fucking stupid idiot. Everyone has said that it was an accident and that these things happen, but no, I’m just a stupid fucking idiot.
On Thursday evening I went to play with someone – all great. What’s not so great is that a condom may not have been used for a period of time. And that the guy’s HIV+. But I only found the last bit out until afterwards.
Cue five hours in the John Hunter clinic on Friday morning with lots of swabbing and blood letting to get PEP. Cue 28 days of feeling fucking awful. Divine punishment I suppose…
My boyfriend / master is taking it well – on the outside at least. I’m more worried about him than me at the moment; all throughout Friday I was sat thinking about him and not me. The counsellors asked whether this was a bad time for this to happen to me (is there a good one?) – for me, no. For him, yes.
For fuck’s sake, I am stupid – these things don’t happen to people who aren’t filthy slutty perverts do they? Of course, even if I wanted to play I don’t really feel like it right now and I doubt I’ll be such a serial slag even if I get the all clear 3 months down the line.
Keep your fingers, toes and paws crossed for me won’t you?
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