Happy Birthday to Me
It's my birthday next Monday. 47. Amazing. When I was 27 and in London and newly HIV+ I was told I had about 2 years left to live. And then when I was 35 or so, back here in Auckland, I was told I had a year to live. Either the Drs got it wrong, or you are reading the writings from beyond the grave - my advice - don't listen to Drs when they tell you how long you have left. Or maybe we're all stuck in an episode of "The Ghost Whisperer" or something equally crappy. But they meant well when they did say that to me, and they were basing it on their not inconsiderable experience of what the typical trajectory of HIV infection meant in those days. In fact, back in 95 I was so sick everyone thought I was on the way out, me included. I am bloody lucky - there is no other reason I'm still here but blind luck. I don't think I'm special. I was lucky enough to somehow hold on till the new drugs came through. I know so many guys who didn't make it. But I con...