Oct. 2024 – I celebrated my 70th birthday this year, on April 12th! I was as excited as a child the night before. I made it! I’m not dead! April 12th is also the anniversary of my receiving my HIV diagnosis in 1987 and what was then considered a death sentence. As a newlywed in 1987, I only got tested to get a clean bill of health so I could get pregnant.
I was ready to begin this new chapter in my life and was about 18 months clean and sober after a wild fast ride as a top 40 pop singer and recording artist in the glossy, dangerous and colorful ‘80s when I drank in those times of love and excess and used a white-powdered substance rumored to have been non-addictive.
Back then, after testing HIV positive, I had a five-year life expectancy. There were no treatments yet, only days of horror, grief and horrible long hospitalizations. What an awful joke to be handed a death sentence on your birthday! What meaning can I make of this powerful coincidence? I saw clearly it was a choice between life and death.
I was a-symptomatic and healthy, though traumatized. I also felt like a freak, being the only female that I knew of who was HIV-positive! I was engaged to be married in a couple of months and determined not to relapse from this frightening information. The biggest miracle was that I had no desire to use drugs, alcohol or sex. I was obsessed with how to stay healthy and alive.
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