Pills, Pills, Pills
I think one of the first things people think of when they hear the word HIV is that people have to take a lot of pills. Oh I am sure it is not the very first thing that comes to mind, but I would say “drug cocktails” is a term from the old days that rears it head in one’s consciousness.
Granted, drug regimens today are nowhere near like they were 15, 10, or even 5 years ago. Science is making leaps and bounds every year when it comes to HIV treatment. For so many years, especially at the beginning of the epidemic, the focus of HIV research had to do with treatment. Our collective knowledge expanded exponentially. Not only were new drugs coming into being but also new classes of drugs that attack the virus at various points in the HIV replication cycle.
I do not in any way diminish or trivialize the drug cocktails of the past, nor those that had to take them. However, I really, really get tired of taking pills. Everyone always says that HIV is not a death sentence; there are medicines now that make it a manageable condition. People say that last sentence so very often that it has become a cliche. I think if one more person tells me HIV is not a death sentence I will either smack them or laugh or both.
Once you start HIV medications, you can not stop them. Oh, of course you CAN stop them, but then the timer is reset for you...the quickening of the tick-tock of your life-clock...the slow but inevitable release of sand, one grain at a time, from the top of your hourglass to the bottom of your hourglass. Without being on HIV meds, most people with HIV will be dead within 8-10 years at the most. Of course there are those who will succumb faster and those who will never get sick.
But for most people, you will be dead within 10 years.
My point is this: when you start on HIV medications, nobody really talks about the bad part of the coin. Oh sure, you get to live, assuming you respond to the meds, which some do not.
Some people, like myself, are infected with a strain of HIV for which HIV meds do not work. For myself, I am resistant to an entire class of HIV meds. Given that a person must be on a minimum of 3 HIV meds at any given time, and given that there are only about 30 different HIV meds across 5 or 6 classes, well, that doesn’t leave a person like me with as many options.
So far my HIV medications have worked well to keep my HIV infection undetectable. So far my T-cells have been on the upswing; my immune system is stronger now than it has ever been. But what lingers in the back of my mind? I fear the day I start to see a degradation of efficacy in my HIV regimen. I worry when I have a blip my labs (an occasional one-time increase in viral load or decrease in T-cells). I worry that my regimen is failing. I worry every time I get a cold, every time my throat hurts, every time someone sneezes in my direction.
And, because I worry, I am on an antidepressant, because the constant worry not only erodes one’s immune system, it also erodes my sanity. I am clinically majorly depressed. My antidepressant pills help, they have taken the edge off my doom and gloom. Talking to my therapist helps alot; she is a neutral set of ears to guide me in the right direction. Yet, without another pill, I would be dead in yet another way.
Pills to keep my body alive, pills to keep me sane, pills to keep my allergies at bay, pills to keep my ulcer in check, pills to keep my cholesterol low...and all the side effects that go along with them.
When I was younger and my granny got sick and aged, I naively used to think that if I just threw away all of her pills her body would fix itself. I did not realize how vital though cumbersome being on medications could be. Now I know. I wish I wasn’t on so many pills.
Granted, drug regimens today are nowhere near like they were 15, 10, or even 5 years ago. Science is making leaps and bounds every year when it comes to HIV treatment. For so many years, especially at the beginning of the epidemic, the focus of HIV research had to do with treatment. Our collective knowledge expanded exponentially. Not only were new drugs coming into being but also new classes of drugs that attack the virus at various points in the HIV replication cycle.
I do not in any way diminish or trivialize the drug cocktails of the past, nor those that had to take them. However, I really, really get tired of taking pills. Everyone always says that HIV is not a death sentence; there are medicines now that make it a manageable condition. People say that last sentence so very often that it has become a cliche. I think if one more person tells me HIV is not a death sentence I will either smack them or laugh or both.
Once you start HIV medications, you can not stop them. Oh, of course you CAN stop them, but then the timer is reset for you...the quickening of the tick-tock of your life-clock...the slow but inevitable release of sand, one grain at a time, from the top of your hourglass to the bottom of your hourglass. Without being on HIV meds, most people with HIV will be dead within 8-10 years at the most. Of course there are those who will succumb faster and those who will never get sick.
But for most people, you will be dead within 10 years.
My point is this: when you start on HIV medications, nobody really talks about the bad part of the coin. Oh sure, you get to live, assuming you respond to the meds, which some do not.
Some people, like myself, are infected with a strain of HIV for which HIV meds do not work. For myself, I am resistant to an entire class of HIV meds. Given that a person must be on a minimum of 3 HIV meds at any given time, and given that there are only about 30 different HIV meds across 5 or 6 classes, well, that doesn’t leave a person like me with as many options.
So far my HIV medications have worked well to keep my HIV infection undetectable. So far my T-cells have been on the upswing; my immune system is stronger now than it has ever been. But what lingers in the back of my mind? I fear the day I start to see a degradation of efficacy in my HIV regimen. I worry when I have a blip my labs (an occasional one-time increase in viral load or decrease in T-cells). I worry that my regimen is failing. I worry every time I get a cold, every time my throat hurts, every time someone sneezes in my direction.
And, because I worry, I am on an antidepressant, because the constant worry not only erodes one’s immune system, it also erodes my sanity. I am clinically majorly depressed. My antidepressant pills help, they have taken the edge off my doom and gloom. Talking to my therapist helps alot; she is a neutral set of ears to guide me in the right direction. Yet, without another pill, I would be dead in yet another way.
Pills to keep my body alive, pills to keep me sane, pills to keep my allergies at bay, pills to keep my ulcer in check, pills to keep my cholesterol low...and all the side effects that go along with them.
When I was younger and my granny got sick and aged, I naively used to think that if I just threw away all of her pills her body would fix itself. I did not realize how vital though cumbersome being on medications could be. Now I know. I wish I wasn’t on so many pills.
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