A file photo
Experts have advised that knowing your HIV status must be everyone’s priority. That knowledge (whether one is positive or negative) goes a long way in combating the deadly disease.
However as good as this advice sounds, going for the test, trust me, can sometimes be heart-wrenching. I managed to convince myself, following the confession made by our Geography teacher, Osei, in Senior High, that “there is no way he’d ever submit himself to be screened for HIV.”
I can recall him saying that he’s walking freely with no sleeplessness. “What if I were to go for the screening and it came out positive?”
He was not ready to subject himself to any psychological death after testing positive: he doesn’t care if the death of knowing his status is someone’s worry.
After listening to him I told myself that his nuances were reasonable, and hence I would forever be glued to it — never in my life would I submit myself for an HIV screening. Never o, never! Since 2008 I’ve held onto this position with a firm grip until it was time for my sister to deliver.
We were informed that blood donation would have to be made so that during the delivering process and she needs blood, the one which would be used could be replaced, to keep the blood bank alive. This wasn’t the news I was looking forward to being told at that time, but I had no option than to welcome it with a tender heart.
I turned up at the lab, thinking they’d just draw my blood and, off I go. Rather, the lab technician explained to me a number of tests they’d need to do (by taking a small sample of my blood) before, and if everything is okay, they’d then allow me to donate my blood. (What the heck is that!?)
Not wasting much time, I asked for the details of the screening and she mentioned something “retro screen” and others. (I didn’t mind her subtlety: I know retro screen is an HIV test. Whatever!)
Truth is I had already fainted and came back to life in my head. Thank God, the lab technician couldn’t see that I was more than jittery, tense, and epileptic at the news. There was no other option again than to start with the process. Like a ram, I offered myself for the screening I called a life sacrifice.
When in some few minutes they called me to get prepared for the real drawing of my blood, I jump into my ears. After all I was clean, and not “retro-guilty”. They, upon finishing the drawing of my blood, enjoined me to make blood donation a practice.
From here I told myself that every six months I’d go for screening, not only for HIV but liver, cholesterol, kidney and others.
The news is that I’ve not been able to sleep since last night. I went for the screening and my heart has been palpitating beyond normalcy. The “so-what-if-it-is-positive” is still hunting me. These words had been a bane.
But hey, I’ve gone for the results and it’s the ‘usual’. I was too nervous to open the envelope and check the results that I even forgot Hafiz Laryea’s (my own brother's) name when we met at the clinic. Poor me!
We may not know what disease is lurking in our systems. Screening rather helps to know our status. Diseases like Hepatitis B, Cirrhosis of the liver, and kidney failure start slowly, and with time of not being noticed, become deadly.
So, go for screening, you’re assured half of your problems are being solved.
