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    Graeme
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Bad News - 1. Bad News

The man stared across the desk in disbelief.

“Are you sure? Is there any chance the test is wrong?” he asked in desperation.

“There is a chance that it is a false positive,” the doctor conceded, “but it’s not likely. We’ll perform another round of tests, but you should proceed as if it is true. To do anything else is unconscionable.”

As the doctor returned a look of compassion, the man dropped his eyes to the piece of paper in front of him.

The paper that declared the end of life as he knew it.

HIV antibodies: Positive.

“My life is over,” he sighed in despair.

“Modern treatment means you may not develop AIDS for years. You can still live a full and productive life, despite this,” the doctor interjected quickly, alarmed at the reaction of the ashen-faced individual sitting in front of him.

“You don’t understand. My life is over. This means the end of everything,” the man declared, disbelief warring with despair.

The doctor started scribbling furiously on the prescription pad.

“Now, don’t do anything rash. Take your time and think things over carefully. If you take care of yourself, you’ll have years. Don’t throw that away!”

Ripping off the top sheet from the pad, he extended it over the desk.

“I’ve written you a prescription to help you over this initial period. The drugs will help calm you down. This is not as bad as it seems,” he said firmly, maintaining a professional but compassionate expression. “I have also given you the names of a couple of counsellors who specialise in helping men in your position. Please contact them and arrange for an appointment as soon as you can. I assure you that you’ll find things are not as bad as you may think.”

The man accepted the piece of paper automatically. The doctor’s statements were not sinking in as he knew the doctor couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of what those simple words really meant.

With barely any courtesy, the man rose to his feet and headed out the door. His body was operating on automatic as his mind ran around in ever-decreasing circles, going through the consequences.

It had been a senseless act, but one he’d gotten away with before. He knew he should have used condoms, but in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t. He liked the feel without them, and so he never insisted.

Anonymous gay sex: the only sort he ever had; the only sort he ever wanted. He knew the places where he could get it, and visited them whenever he got the chance.

He couldn’t do it anymore, at least without a condom. Condemning someone else to this fate was not something he could do – as the doctor said, it would be unconscionable. Even with a condom, he wondered if he could ever go through with it again.

Sitting in the bus on the way home, he thought about what he was going to do, what he was going to say. The comfortable life he’d been living was about to end, but to try to pretend that this wasn’t happening wasn’t going to be fair on anyone.

Was there an easy way to do it? If there was, he couldn’t think of it. His mind was racing at a million miles an hour, but there was no solution he could find that would allow him to survive this unscathed.

Still clueless on how to do it, he got off the bus and slowly walked the short distance to his house. Each step was made as if his legs were covered in lead. Forcing his way against an imaginary tornado, he struggled to his front door.

Long seconds elapsed as he held his key up to the door, motionless. With a final sigh, and a grunt of determination, he thrust the key into the lock in front of him. A bitter smile crossed his face as he contemplated the possibility that was the last bit of thrusting he might ever do.

“Daddy!” squealed the little five year old girl, as she saw her father appear in the doorway.

Dropping to his knees, he held out his arms and embraced his little girl. Squeezing tight, he wondered if he’d ever be able to do this again.

Reluctantly, he let her go and rose to his feet to meet the quizzical look of his wife.

“You’re home early,” she remarked.

He nodded. Now was the time to end his life.

“Honey, I have some bad news. I think you should sit down.”

Waiting for her to drop into the nearby couch, he watched her concerned face. He loved this woman, and he was about to rip her heart to shreds.

“The first thing I have to tell you is I’m gay...”

Part of the inspiration for this story came about after I came out to my wife. She didn't take it well and we ended up going to a counsellor who specialised in helping women who find out that their husband is gay. She got into that business originally as a counsellor for men with HIV and discovered that a number of those were also married. She wondered who was counselling the wife who was being hit with the double-whammy of discovering that their husband is gay and HIV+.
I'm still grateful to her. Her focus and priority in the counselling was to my wife, but after meeting me she told my wife that she believed I'd stay with her and that she could try to keep our marriage together. That's not something she says to all her clients.
For the record, I'm not HIV+.
Copyright © 2013 Graeme; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

I have a really good friend who is positive. She got it from the slimebag she was seeing. He was living in Mexico and was doing it unprotected with every Tom, Dick, Harry, Mary and Jane. She goes to support groups and the horrible thing is, so many of these people are still out there doing it WITHOUT PROTECTION! How can someone knowingly spread this horrible disease around? They don't care. I guess their attitude is, if they're sick and miserable, everyone should be sick and miserable too.

 

Of course in your story, the man's poor wife now has to be tested. Maybe the little girl too. Isn't it true that you can have it for a few years before you are diagnosed?

 

What a sad, sad story, Graeme.

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On 09/25/2013 12:35 PM, Lisa said:
I have a really good friend who is positive. She got it from the slimebag she was seeing. He was living in Mexico and was doing it unprotected with every Tom, Dick, Harry, Mary and Jane. She goes to support groups and the horrible thing is, so many of these people are still out there doing it WITHOUT PROTECTION! How can someone knowingly spread this horrible disease around? They don't care. I guess their attitude is, if they're sick and miserable, everyone should be sick and miserable too.

 

Of course in your story, the man's poor wife now has to be tested. Maybe the little girl too. Isn't it true that you can have it for a few years before you are diagnosed?

 

What a sad, sad story, Graeme.

:hug: It's more manageable now than it used to be, but, yes, it's a horrible disease and those that know they have it and do nothing to stop its spread are... well...

 

As I said in my notes, I'm not really sure why I wrote the story, but I think it was a reminder to myself that my family are more important to me than having sex with some stranger....

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def. of devastation This Story to all parties involved. What a sad outcome for all. Heartbreak, sickness, and a child mixed in.

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