In all the hype and media coverage surrounding his untimely death, let’s not forget Michael Jackson’s beautiful and extremely moving tribute song, ‘Gone too soon’ to Ryan White who died of AIDS. To hear the song and see the video click on AIDS – Michael Jackson on the blog roll.

Ryan White was an American teenager who became a poster child for HIV/AIDS in the USA after being expelled from school because of his infection. A lengthy battle with the school system ensued and the media coverage of the struggle made White into a national celebrity and spokesman for AIDS research and public education. It is inconceivable that many years on the same stigma still exists in British schools but unfortunately it does. If you don’t believe it follow this link – HIV Stigma in schools, on the blogroll and watch a video and read an article written for the Guardian.

Michael Jackson was an AIDS activist who donated his own money and made public appearances such as the one in Exeter Devon to raise money for HIV/AIDS.

Gone too soon – both of them, but sadly stigma lives on. Let’s fight it together.

If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been all this time, I’ve been off with all the tossers in Ibiza, toss as you probably know by now being Spanish for cough. But this time I did things in reverse. I went out there with a terrible toss and came back without one – well almost. The stack of duty free camels didn’t exactly help.

Living with HIV for the last seven years I had come to the sorry conclusion that travelling, especially to Ibiza, was no longer an option for me as I always seemed to come down with some mysterious ailment whilst I was there. Tanit the island goddess who was supposed to watch over and protect women did not seem to be watching over me I’d decided. But in retrospect I now realise that if I hadn’t of gone to Ibiza that time and been diagnosed HIV positive by the gorgeous homeopathic doctor Luis (not my Luis I hasten to say) who if he is reading this by any chance, thanks once again for saving my life, I wouldn’t be sitting here now writing this blog. So in fact Tanit was watching over me after all and is obviously continuing to do so.

I did have a lovely time in Ibiza I must admit and unfortunately it has awakened the old hippy and erstwhile traveller in me that HIV and Blackburn has suppressed. Or so I thought.  I used to say when asked that I wouldn’t swap Blackburn now for Ibiza. Who was I trying to kid? It was wonderful; no pollution, dining al la fresco under the stars, meeting up with all my old friends who are, like me, all older and greyer but still refusing to wear beige and looking good for their age. I was a bit worried that they would notice a difference in me, the ravages HIV has caused to my body by way of lippo etc. and also if my being HIV positive would make a difference in how they treated me. But being children of the sixties to be honest no one gave a toss if I was HIV positive or not, so that was a welcome relief to be totally free of stigma for once. But the sad fact is that yes, if we are lucky and really work at it we can still can manage to look good, despite HIV, but what good is that if no one wants us? HIV deprives us positive people of love and of being loved and that’s the cruellest blow of all and the hardest thing to deal with.

Living on a small island you can almost forget the big wide world and even HIV for a while. You ask yourself and each other searching questions, especially after a few glasses of wine, such as do fishes sleep and if so where? On the river bed of course! And if they don’t sleep how long their endless days must seem, especially of they live in a goldfish bowl or a fish tank, which Spanish fish don’t of course as they have the huge bowl of the Mediterranean to float around in. A lot of people don’t sleep in Ibiza, but that is more a result of the chemicals they have imbibed. I didn’t do any of that, but I did down a few mojitos watching the magnificent sunsets sitting on a sofa on the beach! Sleep is an important issue as you get older and the thought of bed or a sofa is something to look forward to, as is taking siesta, a little nod or forty winks, where just before you drop off you may tax your brain with the puzzle, why is it forty winks and not fifty? And then again, especially if you are in Ibiza, maybe you won’t.

My girlfriends were quite impressed with my ‘lippo’ bosoms I have to say and all had a go at trying on my latest ‘per una’ bra to see if it would do the same for them. I’d treated my bosoms if you remember to a new bra for not letting me down when I had the dreaded mammogram. Talking of bosoms, Jordan, or Katie Price as she is now known, was also in Ibiza at the same time as me. One of my friends bumped into her surrounded by paparazzi in the paper shop, probably looking to see if she had made the front page of ‘The Star.’ With my new ‘lippo’ bosoms perhaps the paparazzi might have mistakenly taken me for her – although do I hope not. Apart from the bosoms, which even with lippo are no where in line with hers, that’s definitely where the similarity ends. Anyway, I would never have two timed Peter Andre!

It was nice to reminisce about the old Hippy days and flower power – did you know that the Spanish eat carnations, but sprinkled with salt?  Even in Spain my Spanish was not up to scratch (that does not translate well) and neither did when I tried to tell Luis that my nose was andando (running) due to all that tossing and making my eyes correr (post)

“You nose do not run and you do not put your kheyes in a honvelope,” he correctly pointed out, “And tampoco do words in Spaneesh or heenglish make scratchy.”  

Scratchy and Scratchy perhaps – the renowned art dealers?

“Well, tossing means the caber in English,” I dutifully responded.

Nevertheless he kept making bromas (jokes) about me taking my nose for a jog or putting my eyes in the post. Not that I did any jogging whilst I was there or send any postcards or even any tossing in the end. I came back from Ibiza a new woman feeling rejuvenated. More so it has reawakened the painter in me and I feel as though the time has now come to put onto canvas all the crap the last seven years has thrown at me. I can’t wait to see what will appear vision wise once I start. I have found that HIV and my advancing years have given me a new facility to enjoy life that maybe non positive people and especially younger people sometimes take for granted. And yes, it was nice to escape, but I am now back on the case so watch this space and I will endeavour to keep you updated with the life of an aging tosser with HIV.

Not content with blogging and facebook I have now signed up to Twitter. The trouble is I haven’t really got a clue what it’s all about. Twitter is yet another social networking website and ‘tweets’ are apparently text based posts delivered to other users known as followers. I’m not sure whether I am comfortable with the term ‘follower’ or the thought that someone is following me as it smacks somewhat of stalking or being stalked. Stephen Fry is allegedly the celebrity with the most stalkers/followers, along with not surprisingly Britney Spears and also Barack Obama who used twitter as a publicity mechanism in the run up to the elections.

Twitter is defined as a succession of chirps or cheeps, as in that highly annoying and repitious song, ‘chirpy chirpy cheep cheep’ – although ‘chirpy cheep cheeps’ sounds more like a name for an Italian feesh and cheep shop.

Twittering is to talk in an excited or nervous manner as in he or she was all atwitter. A Twit on the other hand is an insignificant or bothersome person which says it all really so what does that now make me?

I know that tweetchers are nature lovers who like to observe the habits of Britain’s wildlife, at least that’s their excuse for loitering in the bushes spying on birds. If you are one of the lucky people who have found lasting love in your life, you will be familiar with the term tweetheart and also the famous song, ‘I’ll be your tweetheart if you will be mine.’ Finding a lifelong tweetheart, whether or not you are HIV positive, is not an easy task and it is reported that almost half of British marriages are set to end in court. One of the top tips for a lasting relationship and the first secret of success to a happy future as revealed on the Sky website was to ensure that you and your partner have matching road maps. I’m not sure what they mean exactly by matching road maps but if you’ve ever had the misfortune to act as navigator for your tweetheart and taken the wrong direction I can understand why. Perhaps there is a new kind of sat nav or Tom Tom on the market for relationships – “In four hundred yards take the left lane and exit this relationship.”

But of all the secrets of a lasting relationship according to Sky ‘niceness’ may be the most important. If you are nice to your partner they will be nice to you. Well I don’t know about you but being nice didn’t work for me. 

“Mr and Mrs be nice to each other.”

Unfortunately mine was one of those unfortunate British marriages that ended up in court

“Mr and Mrs  Decree nici to each other.”

One click on a website tends to lead directly to another and as I was twittering away to myself I came across this one – Are You Popular? By analysing my facial map they would apparently be able to tell me how popular I was. Was this like the relationship road map I wondered? Of course I had to have a go because thanks to twitter and the fact that I only have one stalker with the highly suspicious surname of somebody Dodge, I am now suffering a personality crisis.  I dutifully downloaded my photograph (the photo shopped one of course) and it came back with some very rude comments about putting a litter tray under my mouth and the fact that I had get out of my bed eyes. I now wish I hadn’t bothered. In fact I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t twittered in the first place and so are you probably after listening to me twittering on, so I’m off to bed to slip between the tweets and hopefully have tweet dreams.

Positively Girls Aloud!

How many positive women does it take to change a light bulb? Unless you can think of an answer to the age old joke there isn’t one, but if you take out the words light and bulb, then ask, how many positive women does it take to change the UK’s attitude in regard to policies affecting HIV positive women, the answer is simple. The ever growing number of positive women who are members of POZ FEM UK the National Voice of Women Living with HIV who are totally committed to making a change especially in relation to stigma and how the UK views our role in society.

I have just returned from the northern regional coordinators meeting in Newcastle where I had the privilege to spend the weekend with this amazing group of brave and inspirational women. The bond that we share and the strength we derive from each other’s company and shared experiences is totally empowering and gives us the strength to carry on fighting the good fight. In between meetings we all go on living our separate lives but when we get together we are a force to be reckoned with and I for one feel very proud to be a member of such an inspirational group of women.

Newcastle is a city buzzing with life and I’ve never seen so many people out on a Saturday night intent on having a good time. Hordes of revellers thronged the busy streets, packs of men on the prowl, shivering groups of girls dressed in the latest fashions tottering on ridiculously high heeled shoes, stag parties dressed as nuns, hen parties resplendent in fluorescent pink fairy dresses. But everyone seemed happy enough. Maybe the Newcastle Brown had something to do with it. There was a lot of rowdy singing going on, although some of the songs contained lyrics that should not be issuing from the mouths of fairies or nuns.

“Oh I’ve got a great big willy, yes I have,” to the tune of, “She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.”

We’d heard from various sources that ‘Take That’ were supposed to be kicking off  their UK tour that night in the town, but no one could actually tell us where. Stories differed according to which taxi driver you asked and at one point it was ‘Girls Aloud’ and not ‘Take That’ who were supposed to be playing. It turned out that neither group in fact was playing but we did find a bar with a lively blues band where we danced the night away to ‘Hoochie Koochie Man’ and the likes. At one point everyone deserted the crowded bar and rushed out onto the street to witness the sight of hundreds of Chinese lanterns lighting the sky over the river Tyne. It was a beautiful sight to behold with the millennium bridge with its constantly changing colours as a backdrop. As I watched the lights disappearing on their journey to who knows where I thought about us as group of positive women determined to implement change and how when we left Newcastle we would be those shining lights spreading the message and fighting stigma. Although I had supped quite a few halves of Guinness by that time.

I’d received some good news before I’d left for Newcastle which I’d shared with the group as it exemplified the power we have if we do speak out and make our voices heard. At my local hospital they’d been hosting something called the Star Awards where selected members of staff could be nominated to receive Oscars, so some of us had written heartfelt testaments to the role our lovely health advisor had played over the years in supporting us as positive clients. Anyway, the result was that she was nominated for two awards and at the Gala Ball was presented not with one Oscar but with two.  

What does that mean exactly – well it means that firstly she had received the credit that she so justly deserved, but also it meant that people had listened to us and had taken our testaments as positive people to heart, so we too were the victors. This to me means that having a voice matters, that it does make a difference and that our actions will have a knock on effect by making other people view HIV in a different light.

Words matter, making your voice heard matters, stories matter and we matter although we tend to think when we are HIV positive that we don’t.

So let’s carry on being  ‘Girls Aloud’ and ‘Boys Aloud’ of course and continue to make our voices heard on behalf of all the positive women and men who because of stigma cannot speak out.

Talking of voices if you are wondering what has happened to Susan Boyle she has recently been sighted in the form of a vision on my sun lounger!

Don’t you just love it that all those greedy MP’s are having to pay their extortionate and often unfounded claims for expenses back? Most of them it seems have been at it left right and centre and some of them have been ‘at it’ in all senses of the word, but we are used to that kind of behaviour, are we not, from our not so honourable Members of Parliament. Now thanks for once to the media their dastardly deeds are being exposed to public scrutiny and condemnation on a daily basis and many of them are being forced to stand down. At this rate there’ll be none left  standing as most of them are in the dog house or the ‘duck house’ as in the much publicised case of the Tory MP who claimed for a floating duck house for his pond.

Pond? Lake more like! When us commoners the proletariat think pond, we think of something from Argos or B&Q where we would be lucky to float a goldfish let alone a fleet of ducks – and it wasn’t exactly a house was it, it was a pavilion, although looking at the photograph the door seemed a tad small for the average duck to squeeze its feathered bottom through. But I suppose that particular Tory MP doesn’t need to concern himself about that anymore as his Daffy’s and Donald’s will be so much thinner now that he can no longer put in a claim for extra bread rations to fatten them up.  

I wonder what Gordon Brown or the Chancellor of the Exchequer is going to do with all the money these rip off MP’s are being forced to return to the taxpayer? I wish they would put some of it into an HIV awareness raising and prevention campaign, but I suppose that is too much to ask. When you think about how much money was spent sending leaflets about the dreaded swine flu to every household in the land it does make you wonder why they don’t do something similar in relation to HIV. Their answer to that of course probably would be that swine flu has the possibility to affect anyone – but then so does HIV, but for some reason the ever rising statistics, especially amongst women and young people, are being kept constantly under wraps.

Did you know that you say HIV backwards in Spanish and its pronounced atchy-eeee-oovay, which sounds like an embarrassing female complaint, which it is of course and I should know as I’ve been living with itchyoovay now for seven years. I’m telling you this because I’m having to think half in English and half in Spanish at the moment because Luis is over here and due to his stubborn determination not to master the English Language and my laziness in relation to conquering the mysteries of the Spanish verb, we tend to speak Spanglish. For that reason, confusion might arise and all too frequently does. For example, if I ask him to pass me the pan he might well hand me a loaf of bread. It’s a good job that Tory MP doesn’t have a Spanish maid otherwise his pond would be floating with saucepans. Mind you it’s big enough to float a flotilla of pans as well as the entire contents of the Argos catalogue. I think I might have mentioned before that the word for bra in Spanish sounds very similar to saucepan, so he would have to watch his Spanish maid for that too otherwise he might end up causing more of a scandal and be in more trouble than he already is.

The Spanish word for knickers is braggers, but that doesn’t surprise me one bit, because listening to Luis, everything is so much better in Spain. According to wikipedia the word knicker originated in America and was down to a Dutch settler called Herman Knickerbockter, although I feel in view of what is currently going on with our MP’s ‘knicking’ the taxpayers money to clean their moats and buy floating pavillions for their ducks, wikipedia might be forced to update the information to include the Houses of Parliament.

Talking of things being back to front, did you know that the bubbles in a glass of Guinness float downwards instead of upwards? In order to prove this little known theory, Luis and I set off on a trip to Liverpool the closest point to Ireland we could get without taking the ferry and also with the intent of visiting Crosby beach the site of the Antony Gormley sculpture installations, aptly entitled, ‘Another Place’. I say aptly entitled because we’d tried to find them before and ended up in another place entirely. So this time we’d armed ourselves with a borrowed Tom Tom, but I fear Mrs Tom Tom must have been some distant relation of Major Tom Tom of David Bowie fame, because if her sense of navigation was anything to go by she obviously lived on another planet to us. She also had an annoying tendency to nod off when she was most needed.

“Ground control to Mrs Tom Tom,” I screamed at her at a busy intersection, shaking her by the throat and begging her to wake up and tell me which lane to take. But she ignored me and we ended up in a mega traffic jam of Everton supporters.

The Spanish are not renowned for their patience at the best of times, especially in regard to forming polite queues and Luis who was desperate for his pint of Guinness by now was starting to get decidedly agitated. The curses that issued from his Guinness starved mouth were not to be repeated and were mainly directed at Mrs Tom Tom, the traffic lights, which seemed to be constantly on red and the Everton supporters, calling them sons of prostitutes and various parts of the male anatomy, which was not a very wise thing to do, especially when the line of blue and white decked cars were at a standstill. As for Mrs Tom Tom it was all I could do to stop him from hurling her out of the window.

When we finally arrived at Crosby, a bleak run down seaside town, the weather had deteriorated, ominous black clouds hovered on the horizon and there were no pubs.

“No pubs?” Luis cried outraged, how could this be posseeeblay in the north of England.

In the end we settled for a dilapidated looking hotel called ‘The Grand’ and Guinness finally in hand he calmed down somewhat and settled back to investigate the descending bubble theory. This resulted in him downing two pints of the black stuff in a row in rapid succession. Guinness may well be good for you and beneficial for the heart as it allegedly slows down deposits of harmful cholesterol on the artery walls, but did you also know that it is treated with something called ‘isinglass’ which is made from fishes’ air bladders. Some things I feel it is preferable not to know. I am old enough to remember their original advertising campaign featuring the famous toucans and the accompanying slogan.

“Toucans in their nests agree Guinness is good for you. Try some today and see what one or toucan do.”

Well, Luis who had taken that sentiment literally found what that meant for him was he had to keep disappearing behind sand dunes for the rest of the day in order to relieve his Guinness filled bladder.

We left ‘The Grand Hotel’ and set off around the perimeters of a dismal black lake not dissimilar in itself to a huge pint of Guinness fringed as it was with a ring of sulphurous looking froth, with not a duck or a duck house in sight. But everyone else seemed to be going in the opposite direction. Where were they heading we asked ourselves. Maybe they knew where all the pubs were? Hordes of folk were descending through the gap in the sand dunes looking like something out of a Fellini movie – huge women with strange accents and enormous bosoms, tattooed men with arms like sides of beef nearly being pulled out of their sockets by snarling drug dealer type dogs. We elbowed our way through the gap in the dunes then scanned the horizon for the magnificent bronze sculptures we were so familiar with having seen them on the internet. But all we could see were some rusty looking figures in the distance lurking ominously in muddy puddles with their male appendages dangling and staring forlornly out to sea. We set off bravely across the wide expanse of dirty brown sand to get a closer look and take some photographs, although to be honest I was a bit nervous about getting stuck in some sinking sand and becoming an installation myself.

That fateful trip to ‘Another Place’ resulted in me catching some kind of bug which of course frightened the living daylights out of me in case it was swine flu. So I’ve now got a terrible toss and a bad case of constipado – Spanish for cough and cold.

Anyway for future trips and days out I don’t think we will be borrowing the Tom Tom and talking of Toms, I wrote a message to Tom Waits my musical hero on his website.

Dear Tom will you write a song about HIV?                                                                   A rap – a moan – some poetry                                                                                                For outcasts of society                                                                                                              For ‘invisible’ women the world can’t see

Or failing that just for me.

Not my best effort I have to admit but you never know, and in these current days of ‘people power’ and getting your voice heard, now is the time to speak out. Look at the wonderful Joanna Lumley and the well deserved victory she has achieved for the Gurkhas.

Maybe if we all keep speaking out about HIV someone somewhere will listen.

What do you think of my new boyfriend?

My New Boyfriend!

On behalf of all positive women we are proud to announce that Silvia Petretti HIV Activist and founder of POZ-FEM UK  has been elected to be a member on the programme Committee for the next International AIDS Conference  in Vienna in 2010. We can rest assured that Silvia will do all in her power to bring issues affecting positive women in the UK to the forefront and work tirelessly on our behalf as she has been doing for many years.

So well done Silvia and keep up the good work.

In the run up to the conference Silvia has started a blog where you can keep up with the latest updates and also find information about HIV as well as post your own comments and experiences which she would welcome.

You can find Silvia’s Speak up blog at -

htpp:www.hivpolicyspeakup.wordpress.com

or click on the link, HIV Policy -Silvia’s Speaking Up ! on the blogoll.

I have just returned from the great metropolis of London where along with an amazing and diverse group of other positive men and women we underwent training to be part of The People Living with HIV Stigma Index: UK Initiative 2009. This is a new and exciting research and advocacy initiative that is by and for people living with HIV and which will generate evidence that can better inform and improve policy and practice to address HIV related stigma in the UK. I certainly believe that by reducing stigma we can be one step nearer in our fight against HIV/AIDS and it is one of the foremost hurdles to overcome – that is why I continue to speak out and also why I write this blog.

The training was very intense and it was great to be with other positive people from all over the UK and from all walks of life who are totally committed to the cause of reducing stigma. The hotel some of us were staying in was close to Tower Bridge an area steeped with history and tradition, so I arrived early the day before the training was due to commence in order to do some sightseeing. Aside from the intense training there was also quite a lot of intense bonding and social activity going on and on the second night a few of us decided to venture out of the hotel for dinner. We wandered along Tower Bridge Road looking for a cheap eating establishment, but what with Veritee’s leg problems and pink flowered stick, my wonky hip and poor Sue’s ‘nueropathetic’ feet caused by the meds, we weren’t able to venture very far. Obviously money as always was the deciding factor so our first stop was a handy Wetherspoons pub, only to find they’d run out of everything including bread. The vacant looking bloke behind the bar who possessed little or no English shook his uncomprehending head as we tried to place our orders.

“No cheeps.”

“No chips?” unbelievable, we looked at each other aghast, “Jacket potatoes?

“No jackeets”

“What no spuds in any shape or form?”

“Que?”

“Garlic bread then?”

“No breed.”

What kind of joint was this – no cheeps, no jackets, no breed – maybe he was referring to us and Wetherspoons had suddenly adopted a smart dress code, but although we weren’t exactly wearing jackeets as such, we were hardly dishevelled looking, even if we had become slightly unruly by this time being deprived of our national staple diet of carbohydrates. Before we were physically evicted we marched out of our own accord, on our dignity, with Veritee waving her pink flowered stick and crossed the death defying road to an Italian restaurant, which looked decidedly scruffy from the outside but in this case appearances were deceptive, because inside it was immaculate. Glasses sparkled on the starched white tablecloths; attentive not to mention handsome Italian waiters adorned in silk waistcoats hovered at our elbows eager to attend to our every need. The owner informed us that normally we would need a reservation but tonight we were in luck as he could squeeze us lovely ladies in. And it was true, we congratulated ourselves, we were indeed in luck because the homemade pasta was delicious and so was the house wine, which we made very short work of, and we were nattering away, as you do, when an ominous smell of burning became embarrassingly evident in our direct vicinity.

“Can anyone smell burning,” I looked around. “Must be coming from the kitchen,” we decided and carried on nattering. But the smell was getting stronger and stronger and it was then that we noticed that Veritee’s huge linen napkin was on fire – and not only on fire but ablaze with magnificent blue and orange flames. Completely unphased Veritee grabbed what was now the huge ball of fire and extinguished it with her bare hands and carried on talking. At least we thought she’d extinguished it, but it must have been a good half an hour later when the owner, who was now heralding in group of very posh customers to their table, which was right next to ours, began wafting his refined Italian nose around and sniffing the air over our heads like the Bisto kid in that old Bisto advert, trying to identify where the odious smell was coming from.

The odious smell was in fact issuing from Veritee’s huge handbag under the table where the smouldering napkin had decided to relight itself, like one of those birthday candles that refuses to go out and was now in immediate danger of setting fire to the tablecloth, if not the whole restaurant and rewriting history by setting off the next Great Fire of London. Veritee quickly skulked past the owner clutching her smouldering bag to the downstairs loo where she got rid of the incendiary evidence in a sanitary towel disposal bin. We refrained from ordering desserts and quickly took our leave. Apparently the major conflagration of 1666 started at a bakery in Pudding Lane so maybe it’s a good job we left before ordering a pud  before the place burnt down. Talk about London’s burning – call the engines – call the engines – fire fire – fire fire – pour on water – pour on water.

Didn’t hear anything about any Italian restaurants burning down on the local news but did hear that the lift in Tower Bridge, the one I almost went in the day before on my sight seeing trip, had suddenly plummeted to the ground injuring quite a few Spanish tourists who were left with broken legs and ankles. I suggested we all took a ride on the Ghost Bus the next night, but everyone was too knackered after the training and in view of what happened to the lift, maybe it was a good thing – although we could have become ghost-bus-ters.

I was actually sorry when the training came to an end and we were all reluctantly forced to say goodbye. We decided we would stay in touch by forming a group on Face Book. Some names were bandied around and Mark came up with ‘Riddled’ as in riddled with it, which then became ‘Stiggled’ to incorporate the word stigma.

I didn’t want to get off the Virgin train and return to the problems of my day to day and family life. I wanted to ride around forever passing through town to town like some kind of ghost train as opposed to ghost bus. Anyway, my feet were killing me after all that walking which made me think me in regard to the old women’s lib joke of why should there be more women train drivers – a woman’s right to choo choose, that it could be adapted considering my aching feet to shoe shoes, or choo choos in relation to Jimmy Choo.

There was a nice man sitting opposite me on the train and I started fantasising about how comforting it would be to have someone like that to come home to – a safe, respectable man with a good job who would look after me, love me even. Most people with HIV I have noted, including me, are desperately lonely and would love a significant other who would accept us for what and who we are and not reject us because of what we have. One of the African girls on the training course mentioned that she would like to marry a British farmer. I have heard this (I won’t say burning in lieu of the flaming napkin episode) desire expressed before from one of the African ladies in my ‘hivine’ group and I have rather optimistically promised to try to find her one. I do believe there is a website with farmers looking for wives, a bit like the old nursery rhyme- the farmer wants a wife, eee eye addy oh the farmer wants a wife, but I have yet to check it out.

Maybe I should start a dating agency here on my website I offered, farmers or otherwise. Sue suggested that as my surname is Seed I should call it seedydating.com. So watch this space, although the seedy reference might encourage gardeners as well as farmers. Oh well, the more the merrier as long as it doesn’t encourage seedy types of a more deviant nature.

The classic moment of the training and the whole weekend for me, apart from Veritee nearly causing the next major conflagration of London, was when she suggested to the woman from the Ministry of Health who was giving us a PowerPoint presentation on the rising statistics of HIV and offering up the advice that if people were concerned that they might be positive they should go for a test, asked her outright if she’d ever had one and if not she should. You should have seen her face. I added that people should go for a test even if they didn’t think they were positive. It was interesting to note that the oldest people in our training group had all nearly died from undiagnosed HIV – so hiviners take note. If you are in doubt and even if you are not – don’t be put off by the stigma associated with taking an HIV test. Fighting HIV related stigma is what this blog and what the research project we are about to embark upon is all about.

I am trying to calm myself after having had a very heated argument, which once again reverts back to stigma, about counsellors who are HIV positive not being able to counsel another person with HIV because their own issues would get in the way. To me that is like saying that a gay person cannot counsel another gay person, or a person who has cancer cannot counsel a person who also has cancer. I would really appreciate other people’s thoughts on this issue or am I alone in thinking that it takes one to know one.

Oh dear, the poor pig must be the most unpopular animal to ever have walked its trotters on God’s earth at the moment as the world stockpiles huge mountains of anti-virals and grits its metaphorical teeth in preparation for the swine flu pandemic. I don’t suppose then, in that case, folk will be queuing up to take out the latest Pinky and Perky DVD, who have just made their long awaited comeback with, “License to Swill.” Or even letting their children gather round their plasma television screens to watch the old family favourite and time honoured classic, “Babe” in case they catch something.

Mothers around the world will no longer be playing with their baby’s toe toes and crooning ‘this little piggy went to market’ – or in the case of the more modern and upmarket mother, “This Little Piggy went to Prada.” This book by Amy Allen of updated nursery rhymes is described as the new must have for yummy mummy’s and features variations on the old classic rhymes such as, “There was an old woman who lived in her Choos.”

I dread to think what she got to rhyme with hickory dickory dock, or what her version of wee wee wee all the way home makes reference to – Tena lady pads perhaps or incontinence knickers.

In my case, as I am long past the stage of playing with my baby’s toe toes as he is twenty nine, or anyone’s toe toes for that matter, it will definitely be a case of this little piggy stayed at home, as we are all advised to stay indoors and indulge in as little human contact as possible – although, as a positive person I am well accustomed to that. I’m getting worried though that all this advice about avoiding physical contact with people in case they are infected with a dreaded lurgy will start off all the paranoia about touching or having close contact with people with HIV again.

Swine flu is such a horrible name for an illness. Imagine telling people you had swine flu. It would be almost as bad as telling people you’ve got HIV. No one wants to be associated with a pig and some people it has to be said don’t want to be associated with people who have HIV. Although throughout the ages pigs have often featured as popular icons, such as Miss Piggy for example from the Muppets. Whatever happened to her? I remember munching on sugar pigs as a child which apparently are still available in some sweet shop outlets or alternatively you can buy them online, although I wouldn’t think business will be going to well in the current climate.

There’s an old saying, pigs sweat, women glow and men perspire, although there is some dispute as to whether pigs do in fact sweat, however I wouldn’t think anyone in their right mind would want to get close enough to one right now to discover whether they do or not.

In some ways people with HIV have a lot in common with today’s pig, if positive people who are reading this will forgive me for saying, as quite often non positive people don’t want know us, or hear what we say, which begs the question – If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?

To make up for this irreverent take on the swine flu pandemic I will now add a recent update from the CDC with some serious advice for positive people.

Interim CDC Guidance

HIV-Infected Adults and Adolescents: Considerations for Clinicians Regarding Swine-Origin Influenza A (H1N1) Virus

April 30, 2009

The US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) today issued the following interim guidance entitled, “HIV-Infected Adults and Adolescents: Considerations for Clinicians Regarding Swine-Origin Influenza A (H1N1) Virus. The International Association of Physicians in AIDS Care (IAPAC) is circulating the CDC’s interim guidance as a service to our global membership.

Background

Human infections with a swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) virus that is transmissible among humans were first identified in April 2009 with cases in the United States and Mexico. The epidemiology and clinical presentations of these infections are currently under investigation. There are insufficient data available at this point to determine who is at higher risk for complications of swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) virus infection. However, adults and adolescents with HIV infection, especially persons with low CD4 cell counts, are known to be at higher risk for viral and bacterial lower respiratory tract infections and for recurrent pneumonias.

Evidence that influenza can be more severe for HIV-infected adults and adolescents comes from studies among HIV-infected persons who had seasonal influenza; these data are limited. However, several studies have reported higher hospitalization rates, prolonged illness and increased mortality, especially among persons with AIDS. Thus, immune compromised persons, including HIV-infected adults and adolescents and especially persons with low CD4 cell counts or AIDS can experience more severe complications of seasonal influenza and it is possible that HIV-infected adults and adolescents are also at higher risk for swine-origin influenza complications.

Clinical presentation

HIV-infected adults and adolescents with swine-origin influenza would be expected to present with typical acute respiratory illness (e.g., cough, sore throat, rhinorrhea) and fever or feverishness, headache, and muscle aches. For some HIV-infected persons, especially persons with low CD4 cell counts, illness might progress rapidly, and might be complicated by secondary bacterial infections including pneumonia. HIV-infected persons who have suspected swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) virus infection should be tested (see Guidance on Specimen Collection), and specimens from HIV-infected persons who have unsubtypeable influenza A virus infections should be sent to the state public health laboratory for additional testing to identify swine-origin influenza A (H1N1).

Persons with HIV infection should remain vigilant for the signs and symptoms of influenza, as outlined above. Persons with HIV infection who are concerned that they might be experiencing signs or symptoms of influenza infection, or who are concerned they might have been exposed to a confirmed, probable or suspected case of influenza infection, either seasonal influenza or swine-origin influenza A (H1N1), should consult their healthcare provider to assess the need for evaluation and for possible anti-influenza treatment or prophylaxis.

Treatment and chemoprophylaxis

The currently circulating swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) virus is sensitive to the neuraminidase inhibitor antiviral medications zanamivir and oseltamivir, but is resistant to the adamantane antiviral medications, amantadine and rimantadine. HIV-infected adults and adolescents who meet current case-definitions for confirmed, probable or suspected swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) infection (see Guidance on Case Definitions) should receive empiric antiviral treatment. HIV-infected adults and adolescents who are close contacts of persons with probable or confirmed cases of swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) should receive antiviral chemoprophylaxis. Antiviral chemoprophylaxis with either oseltamivir or zanamivir can be considered for HIV-infected persons who are household close contacts of a suspected case.

These recommendations for treatment and chemoprophylaxis are the same ones used for others who are at higher risk of complications from influenza. As is recommended for other persons who are treated, antiviral treatment with zanamivir or oseltamivir should be initiated as soon as possible after the onset of influenza symptoms, with benefits expected to be greatest if started within 48 hours of onset based on data from studies of seasonal influenza. However, some data from studies on seasonal influenza indicate benefit for hospitalized patients even if treatment is started more than 48 hours after onset.

Recommended duration of treatment is five days. Recommended duration of prophylaxis is 10 days after last exposure. Oseltamivir and zanamivir treatment and chemoprophylaxis regimens recommended for HIV-infected persons are the same as those recommended for adults who have seasonal influenza. Clinicians should monitor treated patients closely and consider the need to extend therapy based on the course of illness. Recommendations for use of influenza antivirals for HIV-infected adults and adolescents might change as additional data on the benefits and risks of antiviral therapy in such persons become available.

No adverse effects have been reported among HIV-infected adults and adolescents who received oseltamivir or zanamivir. There are no known absolute contraindications for co-administration of oseltamivir or zanamivir with currently available antiretroviral medications.

Other ways to reduce risk for HIV-infected adults and adolescents

There is no vaccine available yet to prevent swine-origin influenza A (H1N1).

The risk for swine-origin influenza A (H1N1) might be reduced by taking steps to limit possible exposures to persons with respiratory infections. These actions include frequent handwashing, covering coughs, and having ill persons stay home, except to seek medical care, and minimize contact with others in the household who may be ill with swine-origin influenza virus. Additional measures that can limit transmission of a new influenza strain include voluntary home quarantine of members of households with confirmed or probable swine influenza cases, reduction of unnecessary social contacts, and avoidance whenever possible of crowded settings. If used correctly, facemasks and respirators may help reduce the risk of getting influenza, but they should be used along with other preventive measures, such as avoiding close contact and maintaining good hand hygiene. A respirator that fits snugly on the face can filter out small particles that can be inhaled around the edges of a facemask, but compared with a facemask it is harder to breathe through a respirator for long periods of time. Interim guidances regarding means to decrease the risk of getting swine-origin influenza virus are available. These guidances will be updated as more information becomes available, including information on the risk of swine-origin influenza-related complications among HIV-infected adults and adolescents.

Patients should be reminded of the importance of maintaining their health as a means of reducing their risk of infection with influenza and improving their immune system’s ability to fight an infection should it occur. In particular, patients who are currently taking anti-retrovirals or antimicrobial prophylaxis against opportunistic infections should be reminded of the importance of adhering to their prescribed treatment.

If anyone with HIV is worried about swine flu, please read this article below. It’s taken from Poz magazine and was sent to me by Fiona from ICW.

April 27, 2009

Swine Flu and You by Tim Horn

The threat of a swine flu epidemic in the United States has many people living with HIV concerned about their health and safety. POZ and AIDSmeds check in with WHO and the CDC for the latest. In short: While there are reasons to be cautious, there’s no reason to panic.

What is swine flu?

Swine flu is a respiratory disease common among pigs. Though people are not usually susceptible to swine flu, animal-to-human transmission has been documented, notably among farmers working closely with pigs. What’s unique about the particular strain now under surveillance-dubbed swine influenza type A/H1N1-is its ability to spread from person to person.

Is swine flu deadly?

All types of influenza that cause disease in humans can be deadly-approximately 200,000 people are hospitalized and 36,000 people die from flu-related complications every year in the United States.

There is no reason to believe that the swine flu being reported is any more deadly than the regular seasonal flu. Of the 40 confirmed cases of swine flu in humans in the United States as of April 27, none have resulted in death. In fact, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), all cases reported in the United States thus far were associated with mild symptoms of illness, with only one patient requiring brief hospital care.

What is of concern to public health experts is the fact that the disease is caused by an animal influenza virus that doesn’t normally infect humans, and the fact that the virus has been documented in a number of North American communities. Plus, many of those who died of influenza-like illness in Mexico appeared to be otherwise healthy young adults; in contrast, seasonal influenza tends to be most serious among the very young, the very old and people with other chronic health conditions.

Is swine flu a threat to people living with HIV?

People living with HIV-as well as those with other chronic conditions, such as heart disease, asthma and diabetes-are believed to face an increased risk of serious influenza-related symptoms. According to the CDC, there is often a spike in the number of heart- and lung-related hospitalizations among people living with HIV during the winter influenza season as opposed to other times of the year. Studies also indicate that influenza symptoms might be prolonged and the risks of influenza-related complications-including death-are higher for certain HIV-positive people.

It is not clear that this strain of swine flu poses any more or less of a risk to people living with HIV. One theory: Given that, at least in Mexico, swine flu mimics what was seen during the 1918 influenza pandemic-it appears most serious among people between 18 and 35 years of age; those with healthy immune systems that become hyperactive in response to the virus and causes serious respiratory inflammation and disease-and may be less of a threat to those with compromised immune systems, such as people living with HIV. Unfortunately, it is not clear if this theory will hold up, given that many HIV-positive people are responding well to antiretroviral treatment, compounded by the possibility that a hyperactive immune response to HIV, not the virus itself, is responsible for HIV disease progression and a heightened risk of non-AIDS related health problems.

To help prevent seasonal flu, an annual vaccine is recommended for people with HIV to lower the risk of infection or serious disease if infection does occur. Unfortunately, a vaccine has not yet been developed against swine influenza A/H1N1. But people living with HIV can take steps to prevent infection.

How can I protect myself?

The CDC and other public health experts list fairly simple ways to prevent the spread of swine influenza A/H1N1. These include:

* Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you cough or sneeze. Throw the tissue in the trash after you use it.
* Wash your hands often with soap and water, especially after you cough or sneeze. Alcohol-based hand cleaners are also effective.
* Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth. Germs spread this way.
* Try to avoid close contact with sick people.
* Very little is known about the benefits of wearing face masks to help control the spread of flu. Whenever possible, instead of relying on face masks, try avoiding close contact and crowded conditions-particularly if swine flu reaches pandemic status.
* No evidence shows that swine flu can be transmitted through food. Eating properly handled pork-cooked to an internal temperature of 160 degrees-is safe.
* If you come down with influenza-like symptoms, contact your doctor’s office immediately and stay home from work or school.

What about medications against swine flu?

Good news. Initial tests suggest that swine influenza A/H1N1 is sensitive to two widely available antiviral medications: Relenza (zanamivir) and Tamiflu (oseltamivir). The flu medications Symmetrel (amantadine) and Flumadine (rimantadine) are not effective against this particular strain of influenza.

These medications work much like antiretrovirals do against HIV-they prevent the influenza virus from reproducing in the body. If someone becomes ill with influenza, including swine flu, Relenza or Tamiflu can minimize symptoms and speed up recovery. They may also prevent serious flu complications. For treatment, these medications work best if started soon after getting sick-within two days of symptoms-so call your doctor immediately if you experience flu-related signs.

According to the CDC, people at high risk of serious influenza-related complications-including people living with HIV/AIDS-can take Relenza or Tamiflu if they are likely to be exposed to other people with influenza. For example, if a family or household member is diagnosed with influenza, the exposed person with HIV/AIDS should take either drug for seven days. Relenza or Tamiflu prescriptions might also be a good idea for HIV-positive people who live in institutions experiencing an influenza outbreak.

POZ and AIDSmeds will continue to report on swine flu as it relates to people living with HIV-stay tuned for more information as it becomes available.

Woke up this morning and as it’s that time of year when one is automatically programmed to start thinking about summer holidays and travelling to foreign climes I decided to do something about my expanding trunk. Not talking luggage here – but baggage i.e. the kind that is permanently strapped around my waist thanks to the meds in the form of body fat, as opposed to a body bag, which would come in much more useful as I could keep my money in it – or is a body bag something you keep a corpse in? Maybe I mean a bum bag, which would come in even more useful as it could double up for my lack of bottom, which the meds have redistributed for some reason best known to themselves around my trunk.

I got out of bed and decided I would try some light exercise in an attempt to get my waistline back in shape, like touching my toes for example, and guess what?  I could actually touch them. Admittedly, I fell over because of the vertigo – but hey, I’m used to that. At first I was ecstatic, then the thought suddenly struck me – oh no, it’s because my legs have got shorter. This didn’t happen overnight I hasten to add, I knew it was happening because recently I’ve had to keep shortening my jeans or turning them up. But now there was no further doubt about it, I was definitely shrinking at a rate of knots, so I immediately got on the internet and checked for sites with information about shrinking leg syndrome and also for diets or exercises to reduce the waistline- preferably sitting down ones so I wouldn’t keep keeling over.

“Think you have too much junk in your trunk,” proclaimed one site advertising swimwear for a store in Wyckoff. Yes, Wykcoff as opposed to Fykcoff.

Well, I did as it happened, my trunk was definitely packed to its limits and the junk was probably in the form of the odd MacDonald’s I have indulged in from time to time (too many times probably) with my son.

As for the legs – one yoga website advised that the best time to stretch your back and your bones and your legs presumably without doing any damage was when you wake up first thing in the morning whilst you were still lying in bed. So I got back in bed (any excuse) and lay there doing the equivalent of the hokey cokey trying to stretch my legs and make them a bit longer by pulling on imaginary strings tied to my toes.

Is this what is meant by the expression having your leg pulled, or toeing the line, or pull the other one it’s got bells on – no, don’t be silly, that was just my alarm clock going off.

You put your left leg in

Your left leg out

In out in out and shake it all about

Knees bent arms stretched

Raa raa raa

The Italians apparently call it the hoky poky – say no more. At least I was doing it alone in my bed and not in a conga! 

Feeling depressed about ‘shorty’ legs all day, but then wore them down even more by walking round  ‘Camelot’ a local theme park, accompanying son for a job induction as a go cart attendant.

Camelot – sounds like that posh women’s joke about Max Factor.

Max Factor? Did he?

Camelot? Did she?

As they perform regular medieval enactments throughout the summer at Camelot, I thought I could possibly get in on the act so to speak and apply for job as a serving wench, or even a court jester. According to wikipedia, a jester, joker, fool, buffoon or bollocks (now steady on wikipedia, jester minute, I know you must get fed up of people asking you questions, but there is no need to be rude) is a type of entertainer who wore brightly coloured clothing in a motley way. Well, I certainly fitted that criteria and I could soon weave my thinning locks into hundreds of tiny old ladies plaits and attach bells to the end. But it seemed all the jester posts were already taken.

Maybe I could be a knight in drag I suggested? The Moody Blues were always droning on about knights in white satin, weren’t they, although I always thought knights wore chain mail. It would have been fun to be a knight, although I couldn’t really see myself in chain mail, but in my role as an HIV activist I could have done some sexual health awareness raising and HIV prevention whilst I was at it for the visiting groups of schoolchildren by incorporating the old playground rhyme.

In days of old when knights were bold

And condoms weren’t invented

They stuck a sock upon their ****

And HIV was prevented

Oh, in days of old indeed, before HIV reared its ugly head and women wore chastity belts, men were more courteous and knights were expected to follow the code of chivalry and courtly love – or is that a film star?

The first rule of chivalry and courtly love is as follows –

“Thou shalt keep thyself chaste for the sake of her who thou lovest”

Forsooth, if only the men folk of today could be persuaded to abideth by those same strict values of fidelity as they held back in the middle ages. Although if I’d of had my choice, I would have opted for a younger knight myself, rather than a middle aged one.

Cowboys it seems also had trouble with unfaithful wenches, or cowgirls, at least according to Roy Rogers the singing cowboy and most famous cowboy of them all. In his song, ‘A four legged friend’, he advises his fellow cowboys to forget all about women and get a dog instead, or maybe he was singing about his horse Trigger.

A woman’s like cactus and cactus can hurt

Cause she’s just a tight waisted winky eyed flirt

But a four legged friend a four legged friend

He’ll never let you down

He’s honest and faithful right up to the end

That wonderful one two three four legged friend

Tight waisted? Huh, that particular cowgirl obviously wasn’t on the meds, although the winky eye sounds a bit suspicious and can also be a side effect of the medication – as can a shot of red eye.

At least I hadn’t grown any extra legs; I think four would be overdoing it, even for Roy Rogers. The touchy subject of legs came up yet again as my son and I meandered round the Easter Fair and when we passed the stall where the folk all had their heads down playing Bingo, the caller suddenly yelled out  – ‘Legs Eleven.’

Was he talking about me?

Apparently, you can play something called ‘Posh Bingo’ now, which they keep advertising on the telly. But I think it’s aimed at those upper class women who ‘Camelot’ and past conquests of that rampant Max fellow. You can also play ‘Virgin Bingo’ for girls who obviously didn’t have it ‘orf’ with Max, as well as Elvis Bingo, Kiss my Bingo and Sharon’s as in Osbourne’s Bingo. But you have to be careful not to develop Bingo wings, which is a known syndrome of the game – as is legs eleven.

I heard recently on the news that daffodils contain a compound that helps with the alleviation of memory loss symptoms for patients with Alzheimer’s. I remember visiting a friend in hospital who had recently come round after being in coma for many months and when I presented him with a bunch of daffodils, he ate them. He must have known.

Did you know that human’s share 35 per cent of their DNA with daffodils? At least according to one particular website where they proclaim –

“You’re one-third daffodil” this and other REALLY useless facts from Britain’s most upmarket intellectuals.

Pull the other one – it’s got blue bells on.

Well, I’m just off to have a number 3 – that’s a cup of tea in Bingo terms and maybe I’ll grab a bunch of juicy daffodils out of the garden to put in my salad so I will be able to keep my wits about me the next time I’m playing Bingo, either posh or otherwise and not become a number twenty eight, overweight, or a number 8 – one fat lady, or worse still, an 87 – a fat lady with a crutch.