WELLNESS STARTS WITH AWARENESS - CD8 T cells - The Body

was still crying soft ly. He opened the door a crack and I handed
him the clothing. “I used to be somebody, Jeff ,” he whispered. “I
used to be somebody.”
Ken 1998
A 42-year-old transplant to Chicago from New York City since
1998, Ken described his time in New York as
the best years of his life. He remembered an
active social life, involvement in a 12-step
recovery program for substance use, and a
career as an emergency room nurse. Diagnosed
with HIV in 1991, his health deteriorated
rapidly with one opportunistic infection
aft er another. He came to Chicago to
make a fresh start, but quickly relapsed on
multiple substances and processes (alcohol,
narcotics, and sex). He came to see me initially
because his nursing license had been suspended for writing
false prescriptions to maintain his habit and he was mandated to
see a therapist, among other activities, in order to lift the suspension.
Ken had a small apartment on the north side of the city that he
managed to keep due to a small inheritance from his parents. He
was unable to work in nursing, however, because of his suspended
license. His health also compromised his ability to maintain other
steady employment. He subsidized his income with short-term
temporary administrative jobs, many of which paid him in cash.
“What’s the point anymore, Jeff ? None of my friends live in Chicago,
and most of my friends from New York are dead. I don’t have
any energy left ,” he shared with me in March of 2000, aft er being
discharged from the hospital because of a bout with pneumonia.
Mark 1996
“I had to give my dog away,” Mark shared with me in our fi rst
meeting in 1996. “I can’t even take care of her, let alone myself.” He
stared at the fl oor and bounced his leg up and down as he waited for
my response—and for the judgment he feared I would share with
him. I quietly invited him to tell me more.
Mark had left a successful position in real estate voluntarily.
He was 45 years old at the time and had saved enough money to
be unemployed for a short while as he explored alternative professions.
Originally from a small town in Iowa, Mark had come to
Chicago as a teenager who realized that he could not safely be gay
in small town Iowa. He worked to put himself through college and
was active in Chicago’s gay social scene of the 1970s. “Th at was an
incredible time in my life,” Mark shared. “But it also resulted in
alcoholism and HIV.”
During the fi rst year of our work together, Mark exhausted the
money he had saved and began doing temporary day labor as jobs
arose. Eventually, his health deteriorated to the point of not being
able to work at all and he applied for and began receiving disability
payments. His body changed as a result of both HIV and the
medications he was taking. Th e pride he once felt from his physical
fi tness shift ed to shame as he described his weight gain, sunken
cheeks, and areas of lipodystrophy.
In 1999, I remember a session where I asked Mark to imagine
what he would like his life to be like—to close his eyes and think
PA • September / October 2008 • tpan.com • positivelyaware.com
Positively Aware
about where he would live, the kind of job he would have, and what
his social life would be like. “I can’t do that because it’s not possible
anymore,” he said with resignation. With gentle prompting,
he eventually shared: “I would live in a high-rise in Lincoln Park
with views of the lake. I’d be working in real estate again and I’d
feel hopeful. But I don’t think that’s going to happen, Jeff . It’s too
late now.”
Today, Joey is working
as an attorney again.
Joey, Ken, and Mark 2008
Joey, Ken, and Mark did not believe they would be alive in
2008. Or, if they were still alive, they thought their quality of life
would be severely compromised. Th ey had resigned themselves to
illness and our initial work together was more about acceptance
than it was about hope, wellness, and the future.
Today, Joey is working as an attorney again. He owns his own
home on Chicago’s South Side. He has a small circle of close friends,
and has connected with a large extended family with whom he
spends a great deal of time. He walks and exercises regularly. He
plays tennis occasionally. He loves music. He laughs a great deal.
His health is still a concern, but when a health issue arises, he is
quick to address it.
Today, the suspension on Ken’s nursing license has been lift ed
and he is once again working as an ER nurse. He has a renewed relationship
with his sister and has forged a close relationship with a
cousin whom he visits several times per year. He has also acquired a
cat who he says greets him with anticipation upon his arrival home
from work each day. He continues to have health problems, many
of which are not a direct result of the HIV. And, he still hopes to
increase his circle of friends in Chicago. Still, he says he is grateful
for what he has and for how far he has come.
Today, Mark lives on Lake Shore Drive in a high-rise facing
Lake Michigan. He works full time in real estate and recently was
promoted to manage an offi ce on the north side of Chicago. He has
been sober for over 20 years and has a strong connection to the
recovery community. In addition to having his own sponsor, he has
three individuals whom he sponsors. He exercises three times per
week and has lost 20 pounds. Mark has also invested considerable
energy in his emotional and spiritual growth, attending a number
of weekend workshops and retreats. He remains dissatisfi ed with
the eff ects medications have had on his body (in combination with
the eff ects of aging), but says he fi nds himself feeling hopeful more
oft en than not.
Joey, Ken, and Mark, however, are not alone in this journey.
Many men, women, and children diagnosed with HIV 10, 15, or 20
years ago were not expected to live long, let alone live with hopefulness
and an attention to wellness. Certainly advances in medication
and other interventions have played a major role in living “well”
with HIV. Th ere are other critical ingredients—listed below—to
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