HIV patient on life after diagnosis: ‘They don’t know the battle I am going through’

Gabriel* was diagnosed with HIV in early 2015, five years ago, just as he was about to turn 29. “It was a shock at first. But it wasn’t like what you’d usually see in the movies, or what we imagine it would be like – it was more of an ‘oh’ moment. It wasn’t until later that I realised my diagnosis had a subtler impact on me,” he tells MaltaToday.

It’s an admission of brave candour. Few can comprehend what the prospect of life affected by HIV can be; decades of media portrayal of the virus, which attacks cells that help the body fight infection, and its possible development into AIDS, has contributed to a culture of fear.

Gabriel is one of the persons who are currently affected by an HIV medication shortage in Malta, caused by unforeseen delays in the cargo delivery of HIV medication from the United Kingdom. The health authorities have since placed an urgent order with a firm in Portugal.

For people like myself, who are going about their professional life, going to the hospital once a month, even during a pandemic, is already a burden

“I managed to get one of the two medications I take thanks to Checkpoint Malta, who sourced the pills from patients with spare medication,” he explained. “I did spend a couple of days without medicine because I couldn’t get through to the pharmacy, and then I found out about the shortages.”

He said that the medication he was currently on, which he had been shifted onto a year ago, had been bogged down by red tape from the beginning. “It’s one of the newer meds, and because of this, the pills are allocated per month, and not per three months, as with older medications.

“For people like myself, who are going about their professional life, going to the hospital once a month, even during a pandemic, is already a burden. Still, it’s a burden we have to carry so I’m not going to complain – but now we have no meds, and we have to go to the hospital every few days, to get three days’ worth of pills, which are life-saving because it keeps our virus at bay… it’s as if we’ve been forgotten. This should not happen.”

This is not a political issue – this about the lives of people affected. This is from someone looking in from the outside, watching the health authorities losing two battles, the first being the second COVID-19 wave, and now the HIV medication shortage

Gabriel lambasted people misconstruing his criticism of the health authorities as a political statement. “This is not a political issue – this about the lives of people affected. This is from someone looking in from the outside, watching the health authorities losing two battles, the first being the second COVID-19 wave, and now the HIV medication shortage. Health minister Chris Fearne should stop boasting about how great our health system is. The front liners are, but the administration is not,” he said.    

Gabriel explained that because of the taboo surrounding HIV in Malta, he is yet to tell his family about his diagnosis. “I haven’t told my family yet. There are some close friends who I have told. I could count them on my fingers. They knew me before and I came out to them with my status. My ex knew and we remained together for five years after that, so the break-up wasn’t HIV-related. And many of my new friends are aware of my status.”

His family being unaware of his status, Gabriel’s battle is made all the harder. “If I had diabetes and I needed insulin, my parents would understand what I’m going through when I’m going through this hell.”

But he said the fact that many feel uncomfortable about being open about their status, makes it difficult for people to empathises with those struggling with HIV.

“I was talking to a GU specialist a couple of days ago, and she said ‘it’s true, it feels like you’re fighting this battle alone’. But thanks to Checkpoint Malta and the GU clinic, you feel that there is a sense of community. These are the people who are open-minded about HIV.

How many doors will be closed after that? When it comes to these taboos Malta is always 20 years behind, even with all the civil rights we have. The fact that we don’t have HIV medication, which is one of our rights shows how at odds with itself Malta is at the moment

“So when it comes to personal circles, in my case with my family, neither my parents nor my siblings know anything. There are close friends from various parts of my life who don’t know either. And when they see HIV in the news, they see it as something distant because they don’t know it’s the battle I am going through.”

Gabriel said that revealing his status felt like coming out for a second time. “Will they still care about me? Will they still love me? Will they look at me differently? Will they look at me as someone with a plague? So those questions pop up again,” he said.

“Over the last few weeks, I was tempted to come out,” Gabriel confessed. “I’m grateful to Chris Vincent for actually doing it – over a year ago now. It was quite the landmark,” he says, referring to the Danish activist who stood in Valletta asking for hugs with a poster saying: ‘I have HIV, R U Afraid to Hug Me?’

“Eventually though, someone Maltese also needs to do it too, but I know why no one has,” Gabriel said.

In fact he worries, like others do, about how coming out publicly would affect his livelihood and the way people see him. “How many doors will be closed after that? When it comes to these taboos Malta is always 20 years behind, even with all the civil rights we have. The fact that we don’t have HIV medication, which is one of our rights shows how at odds with itself Malta is at the moment.”

Gabriel is also worried about seeing others use his status against him, with the stigma it might carry in a small island nation. “When I lived in London, it was much easier, because generally, it comes up when you’re texting or talking to someone before you meet; sometimes it actually does come up before. The conversation is more open.”

But he thinks Malta is just not ‘well-mannered’ enough to handle HIV. “Not yet anyway. I think that’s the main reason I won’t come out because you don’t know the full ramifications. It’s too big a risk.”

Ultimately, his story is still a positive one, reflected in his desire to share it anonymously.

“My life did not end after this happened. I still went abroad. I did my Master’s. I kept dreaming, I kept moving ahead. So for all those out there who have just been diagnosed, there is hope. Your life doesn’t end with the diagnoses.”

*The real name of the person in this interview has been changed to respect their wish to remain anonymous.