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By Robbie Coker |
Fred has been my best friend since first grade. In the summertime, our mothers took us to the playground where we played together in the sandboxes and on the swings and slides. Fred was always a good student, which is lucky. You see, he was a hemophilliac. If he got a scratch, it bled like a bad cut and wouldn't stop. So he had to get transfusions of blood clotting plasma every week or so. That means he missed a lot of days from school. He was able to keep up and we are still together in grade 12.
On the way home, I ussually stop in at Fred's house and we have a snack before I go on home. Life is good, or was until recently.
It all started when Mr. Bane expelled Fred from school. Mr. Bane is our principal, and that day he came into our math class looking upset. He went right over to Fred and said, "Come with me, I just talked with your mother on the phone. She will be here to pick you up in a few minutes. You can wait outside for her."
Fred and I looked at each other. He was as puzzled as I was. He gathered up his books and left with Mr. Bane. When school was out, I hurried to his house. His mother was at the sink, and I could tell she was really upset.
"What's going down man?" I asked him.
"They won't let me go to school any more. I've got AIDS. The doctor called Mom today and told her that's what my last lab test showed. When she phoned Bane and told him, he got hysterical. He told her to come get me immediately, that he did not want to endanger the other kids."
"What's AIDS?" I asked. "How come you got it?" I wanted to know.
His mother, Mrs. Greer, answered my question.
"It seems that in some one or more of the transfusions, the plasma Fred received was infected with AIDS virus*. That's an acronym. It stands for acquired immune deficiency syndrome. So now Fred has the AIDS antibodies. It's so new nobody seems to know very much for sure. Having the antibodies means Fred has been exposed to AIDS. He may be in the process of rejecting it, or he may or may not get the diseaase itself."
"Well then, he really doesn't have this AIDS right?" I stammered.
"It really is sort of confusing," she said "This virus destroys the body's immune system, and causes the T-cells that trigger immunity to change and make AIDS cells instead. That, of course, so weakens the body that it cannot ward off any disease or infection tht may come along. People who develop the disease die, but Fred may also never develop the disease.
"So you think Fred is better off not to go to school?" I asked.
"NO I don't!" she answered angrily. "As long as he is not sick, he belongs in school! After all, you can pick up germs and viruses and bacteria anywhere, not just at school. Fred's not going to give us AIDS at home the doctor tells us, so he's certainly not a danger at school. As a matter of act, I think we will get a lawyer and fight this in court."
They did get a lawyer. They did go to court. The judge agreed with them. He ruled there was no reason to keep Fred out of school. All the medical testimony showed that nobody could catch AIDS through casual contact. And Fred now knew a lot about what he had, and what that was going too mean to his love life. He wasn't about to hurt someone else, by passing along the virus he had been exposed to. So Fred went back to school, but it did not last long. Would you believe Mr. Bane sent him right home again! He still insisted that all the kids in school were in danger if Fred stayed in school. Mr. Bane was scared.
I kept trying to figure this whole thing out. Then I saw a picture of Rock Hudson on T.V. He was standing there with some acteress friend of his. I had aways admired Rock Hudson. He seemed like a real man. He was handsome. And what an actor! They said he had AIDS. He had gone to Paris hoping to be cured, but it didn't work. He only got worse. He looked awful. Sick. Not at all like all the other pictures I had seen of him. Soon after that he died.
Gosh! This crazy disease doesn't just make people sick! It kills people. I began to worry for sure about Fred. Was he going to die too? I noticed he was getting funny-looking blotches all over him. Yeah, I remembered some guy on TV had talked about having AIDS. He had the same sort of blotches. He was skinny and sick-looking. Fred was getting skinny too, and his mouth was sore. He was having a hard time eating. The man on TV said his friends and family had deserted him. Because he had AIDS, they would not let him stay around.
I began to realize that none of the kids were coming around to see Fred either. I kept going by every day after school. I'd tell him what had happened during the day at school and try to think of something funny to say and make him laugh.
One day, one of the boys in our class said to me, "Hey man, you'd better stop hanging around that Freddy. You'll catch AIDS from him. You could even give it to the rest of us. If you don't stop going around him, then don't expect to hang around with us anymore!"
"You can't catch AIDS that way!" I yelled at him.
"You heard me, man. Stay away from him, or stay away from me!"
On the way home from school, I stopped at Fred's as usual, but couldn't think of any funny stories to tell him. I could hardly talk at all. Mrs. Greer seemed to know something was wrong. She kept asking me questions until I finally told her what had happened. She told me not to be upset about it. That it was okay. She said a lot of people felt that way about AIDS. She and Fred were really pleased that I had been so faithful in coming got see him. It had meant so much to both of them. She looked so sad, I just couldn't say anything for a few minutes. There was a lump in my throat. Finally I blurted out, "It's just not fair!"
"No, it's not fair!" She was still mad. She was mad, and she was crying. "They treat AIDS victims like they have small pox or some such thing! Why, there's just a lot of awfully sick people out there and now their own families don't even want them any more."
"Please don't cry," I said.
I never did like to see people cry. Besides, I had not meant to tell her about what had happened. I really wanted to talk to my dad. My father is a very wise man. Of course, I don't like to say that where he can hear me, but really, I think he knows more than just about anybody. Mrs. Greer gave me a big hug, but I bolted and ran out the door and straight home as fast as I could right to my room, and slammed the door.
I flopped on my bed. I hadn't cried since I was a little kid.
"It just isn't fair!" I said as I pounded the bed. What's this virus anyhow? It leaves people so sick and lonely. It makes people unhappy and scared."
There was a knock at the door. Dad cracked it open, "May I come in?" he asked as he came on in. He sat down on my bed and asked what was wrong.
"It's Fred and his AIDS!" I choked. "Is he going to die? What can we do?" I moaned.
My father has a way of being there when you need him. He sort of slapped me gently on the back and asked if I wanted to talk about it. Words tumbled out as I told him about what the fellows at school had said, about my conversation with Mrs. Greer, about my own fears and confusion and anger. Then he began to talk. He told me the basics of what little is known about AIDS.
Acquired immune deficiency syndrome was first reported by the Disease Control Center in Atlanta in June 1981. The disease spread most rapidly among those receiving blood transfusions, intravenous drug users who often shoot up with contaminated needle, and homosexual men. Dad said the disease is also now affecting men and women all ages. The more sexual partners one has, the greater the risk of AIDS. People are scared because it is spreading so fast and because there is no cure.
Dad said the virus is carried in body fluids, mainly blood and semen, but also in small amounts in urine, feces, tears and saliva. Dad said, though, the virus has to get from one person's body fluids into another person's blood stream in order to infect them.
Gloves, for example, help protect nurses and doctors who might have cuts or scratches on their hands when handling blood, feces or urine of AIDS patients. Condoms work the same way, helping keep semen from reaching cuts, tears, sores or scratches, said Dad.
Although there is no vaccine against it and no cure for it, he told me that a test has been developed which will determine whether blood contaminated with the virus. Quite recently this test was found to be 99.8% accurate. Well, that test is too late to help my friend Fred, but now the test will save lots of other people who need blood transfusions.
"What about drug users, prostitutes and gay men?" I asked. "They seem beyond anybody's control, don't they?"
"There are two ways we can help them, prevention and care," he answered. "We must keep warning drug users that if they can't stop using drugs, at least they should use sterile needles. No sharing. And people need to be continually reminded that if they are sexually active, their chances of staying healthy and happy are better in an on-going responsible commitment with one partner whose sexual history is known. It's going to put pressure of intimacy when you fall in love and aren't ready to marry, said Dad. The more partners in one's life, the greater the risk. I feel as though that message should be screamed from the housetops. Of course, some will not change their ways, but many have already changed to some degree. They've seen their friends die, and they are beginning to think it is more important to go on living."
"You said there are two ways to help. What's the other one?" I queried.
"Compassion. Just remember that regardless of what makes a person ill, a sick person is sick, and needs help and love and care. This is just as true of AIDS as of any ailment. Compared to many serious diseases that are killers, AIDS cannot be transmitted by casual contact, so there is no danger in visiting a victim of AIDS, doing errands for him and comforting him in any manner that does not involve contact with his body fluids. Just think of how much you love Fred and want to be with him, and how forsaken he would feel if you stopped seeing him."
"But the guys at a school say they won't have anything to do with me if I keep on going to see Fred!"
"Okay, so maybe at first they will drop you. Which is more important to you: a sick friend who needs come company or healthy fellows who would drop you because of your loyalty to the sick friend? You sees son, those boys just don't understand. They need to know the facts about AIDS. Then they might see the situation a little differently."
"So what can we do?" I want to know.
"We can protect ourselves from the virus by knowing about it and knowing how to avoid risks. And we can educate our friends."
"Now how can we do that? Am I supposed to go to the gang and tell them they should go see Fred, that he's lonely and that it's okay. They'd tell me to beat it!" I retorted.
"Not exactly," my father said. "Why don't you get your friends together to talk about sex and how it affects you? What should and should not do - that kind of stuff. And bring into the discussion the subject of AIDS. After all, there's something about the disease in just about every newspaper or magazine you pick up. Researching the subject could even become a project for you.
"Just keep in mind that the next victim could be one of your friends, or his brother or father, your future wife."
©1999 TG Magazine/Le Magazine TG
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