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Study Paper No. 5
Riding the Roller Coaster: Experiencing Transitions from
HIV to AIDS
PART I
EXPERIENCING
DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HIV AND AIDS
ASYMPTOMATIC
VERSUS SYMPTOMATIC
A number of questions
immediately come to mind as one grapples with the key
differences between living with HIV versus AIDS. Both
signal a transitional phase, however HIV is more
obviously the focus for hope and empowerment whilst AIDS
is still associated with death. Why this continues to be
the case in the face of improved therapies for PWAs is,
at one level, somewhat puzzling. In the industrialised
world, effective treatment regimes mean that the
increasingly popular trope "AIDS may not be a death
sentence after all" spells hope for those able to
access these resources. For most however, AIDS still
connotes terminal illness and inevitable death and
remains readily distinguishable from HIV for this primary
reason.
Indeed, there would
appear to be sufficient anecdotal evidence to assert that
in the face of better treatment, an AIDS diagnosis has
become even more a marker of approaching death. This
belief is commonly based on the sometimes erroneous
assumption that diagnosis with an AIDS-related condition
is evidence of a failed HIV treatment program and/or an
unresponsive immune system. More pertinently, confident
predictions of an increasing survival time for those
diagnosed with HIV may offer genuine hope but
simultaneously bestows undue pressure on health
professionals issuing an AIDS diagnosis. In other words,
an AIDS diagnosis still has many PWA asking "Is this
the beginning of the end?". However, this was a
question that most people diagnosed with HIV would ask
themselves during the first decade of the epidemic - now
for those who experience an HIV and AIDS diagnosis
separately, the stresses associated with this question
appear to have irrevocably shifted to the point of an
AIDS diagnosis. This is not to deny the persistent stigma
that accompanies being HIV positive nor we do wish to buy
into the highly questionable Duesberg argument doubting
the link between HIV and AIDS. Rather, this shift signals
arguably the most important psychosocial difference
between HIV and AIDS: the transition from stigma to
illness. Very rarely in the Transitions study did
participants speak of experiences of discrimination and
other acts associated with stigmatisation as a
contemporary feature of their lives. Most participants
had resolved any lingering problems about their identity
as a PLWH/A and shared far more readily about the
day-to-day, pragmatic difficulties of coping with
illness.
So one of the first
questions that emerges in discerning differences between
HIV and AIDS, is whether AIDS itself is a useful term in
analysing illness experience? It certainly has a pivotal
role in the social construction of the disease. But how
does a person understand the physical effects of illness
in relation to an AIDS diagnosis?
A standard question put to
all participants towards the completion of the interview
was:
Overall, what do find
are the main differences between when you had HIV and no
symptoms compared to your life now?
This elicited a
variety of responses, many of which succinctly
encapsulated the key differences between living with HIV
and dying of AIDS-related illnesses. Overall, there was a
more inward reordering of life goals and the very real
confrontation with illness and dying produced a great
variety and complexity of illness states.
Relief
There were those
that expressed great relief at having finally reached the
final stages of illness having lived with the spectre of
AIDS for many years. Daniel says:
Part of me is relieved
you know like I've been waiting for it. In 1988 I was
diagnosed as having PCP wrongly and then, undiagnosed
and then re-diagnosed and undiagnosed, and it was
like the grass was green and the trees were sort of
treeing, they were doing only what trees can do, um,
and the flowers were just this intensity of colour
and there was this feeling of um, I've got to take it
all in. For me, I think that I had to complete the
process.
In Daryl's case, this
relief triggered a more relaxed demeanour:
Yeah, I'm more placid,
a lot more placid. Ah, I can't hate anybody. If I
dislike somebody I'd rather be nice to them and walk
off. I can't be mean to them no more.
Regaining control
Other participants spoke
of their increased capacity to gain control of their
lives through the more stringent management necessary to
respond to AIDS-related symptoms. Indeed for some,
confronting AIDS had proven to be powerfully liberating.
Paul spoke at length about this process:
I like the way I fit
in the world now. When I compare it with the
business, ravaging the planet type of existence I
previously had umm.. I like who I am and the way I am
now. The difference is so great that it is tempting
to say 'I am glad I got the virus, because now I am a
nice person'. That is crap. I would rather be a nice
person without the virus but having the virus,
becoming ill has created this circumstance where I
can find out who I am, be that person and prepare for
the end of my life. That is a luxury that not many
people ever have. And in that way I feel quite
fortunate. Also I feel a little bit fortunate that I
have some rough idea about when all this may occur,
which the rest of the world very seldom has. And for
some reason that is important to me, I am very much a
person who likes to be in control and to predict when
something is going to happen. I don't like surprises
and I certainly don't want to be surprised by death.
I would rather be a participant in the death process
than the victim. And I mean a participant, there,
awake, knowing what is happening and voluntarily
letting it go, letting go of this life. I think that
this makes me a very lucky person. That I have this
opportunity to do that, or at least have a shot at
it.
Paul is not alone in his
sense of empowerment at having managed his health under
such difficult circumstances. Bruce says:
I think,
psychologically I'm handling it better than I was
originally because, the original stage, of course,
everybody knew, or, all they knew was that people
were going to die. There was a hundred percent death
rate. And I kept saying to myself well, I'm
alright... And I've seen my friends around me who are
getting sick. Come out with Karposi's Sarcoma and
spend three weeks in hospital and I thought, 'I'll be
next'. I used to say to them, 'I'll be joining you
soon', you know, all these negative thoughts. And it
didn't happen, touch wood, you know. My aim now is to
go and see the Olympic Games in Sydney. I still
believe I'll still be here in six years time, so I've
got a fairly positive attitude.
Anger
For others, the experience
of transition from HIV to AIDS was entirely different, as
suppressed anger and resentment bubbled to the surface.
Neil struggles to cope with the unremitting nature of his
illness:
I don't like having
the feeling of being unwell all the time. I hate that
sort of feeling and people tend to not ring you
because they're terrified you're going to say 'I'm
not really well' so I usually lie and say, 'Oh, yeah
I'm fine you know and things are fine' ah..even
though you've just thrown up.
Charles lucidly
articulates the need to share the burden of AIDS with
others whereas HIV had been far more easily
self-managed:
Being HIV was sort of
more of an inconvenience and an embarrassment and you
had to sort of play games with people and suss people
out before you could be honest with them. Um..and
then still people would be shocking, write you off
even when they made out they were ok about it. That
was HIV. Now, having AIDS related conditions, it's
um, very very terrifying ...you know, you don't even
give a stuff about telling anybody anything I mean
I'll tell you anything you like, I'll tell the person
across the road anything that he likes because you
have a real need to let people know what this is
like.
Physical differences
The physical impact of the
final stages of AIDS clearly differentiated this phase
from earlier asymptomatic periods for Jeff who died six
months after the interview:
Well I don't do a lot
more, because I haven't got the energy to, I get very
tired easily, I sort of pace myself with what I do
and when I do it.
Previously, Peter felt he
"could do as he pleased" but now he says:
..if I get my strength
back just to be able to go away on a holiday, I'll be
happy.
The "Roller
Coaster"
Others who did not
experience such a clear transition from asymptomatic
stages to debilitating illness spoke of the "roller
coaster ride" experience. Despite a fairly rapid
decline in health, Tony describes this succinctly:
Well, it would be how
debilitating I have become, in that period, that
short period of time... I can't believe that this
could happen to a body so quickly. And it's not just
me giving in, because I just don't give in. It's just
the way that it is and the hardest thing is to accept
that it is happening. And once it starts it's like a
rollercoaster ride, up and down. Well it feels like
you are on a rollercoaster ride because you can't get
off now you are on it. You can't get off until it
stops and when it stops, you stop with it, sort of
thing. I think that's the hardest thing, and the fact
that so much change has happened in such a short
time. Your life is just not your life anymore.
Although you feel in control of a lot of it, it's out
of control and you don't have control of that.
And Kim is also aware of
the fluctuations in her capacity to maintain self-
control:
I think well with me,
the head thing's the biggest. Just trying to deal
with that and trying to stay and talking to people
and being without losing it and like there's times
when I feel like I have lost it and then I'll be
walking around apologising to people and they'll say,
'No you were fine'.
The Ticking of Time
The constancy of the
presence of AIDS evoked an urgency in some about the
precious nature of time:
John
Well I've got AIDS
now, I'm not just HIV positive. Even though it was
only PCP... you tended to think well, how much time
have I got left now?
Barry
I can't ignore it.
It's like the mirror is right there. I never get a
chance to sort of say....I don't get a half hour off.
It's there all the time.
In Gerry's case, time had
emerged as an important issue only very recently:
Sometimes I feel like
I have missed out on a process, going through some
sort of process of accepting it. I have had to sort
of find out and say 'Yes, well I have to get my shit
together and do it straight away'. You know what I
mean, the time is a lot more urgent I suppose.
Sometimes I feel I have missed out on
something.
For some participants,
like Roger, this necessitated a revision of what was
important in their life:
You know, you can die
at anytime. All you know is that you may die sooner,
therefore if you're putting things off all the time
you should do it now. So, going stage four [of AIDS]
is pretty much the same, you sort of say 'Oh, maybe
there might be less time. Maybe I should review my
priorities and change things'. And that's ok.
The sense of limited time
however must be juxtaposed with, in some people's cases,
the sudden availability of free time when work and other
physical duties are no longer viable. Marcus says in
response to the question about the difference between HIV
and AIDS:
Um, I mean, the
presence and absence of work I suppose and then with
that this thinking time thing. You know, like so much
time to think about yourself, you know?
And Don is conscious of
the emotional baggage that having this time might
evoke:
Emotionally it's
harder because all of a sudden you're not well enough
to do anything and so you've got a lot of time of
sort of internalising what you're feeling and
thinking. Um..I've always been um a relatively good
talker but I'm finding that just about everybody that
I encounter I can't just say hello, I'm fine, but
sort of [a] can of worms comes out {laugh} each and
every time I'm asked how I am.
Derek also speaks of the
stresses associated with confronting time:
The biggest thing is
stress...I mean you don't wake up happy. Like, before
you had AIDS, you had every day to live for, every
day's a mystery, an enigma. But now, it's just
another day you get up with, actually every day, you
want it to take another twenty-four hours.
Different Eras
Although we have used AIDS
as the entry point for this study, in some ways we were
reticent to use the term once the interviews were
underway. We were especially careful not to use the term
in a universalist, assumptive way that might have
precluded a range of meanings and signifiers potentially
bestowed by the participants themselves. Nevertheless,
some interesting patterns emerged. Those who fought hard
in the early days of the epidemic to confront society's
awkwardness about the ravages of AIDS and render the
disease visible, were determined to emphasise the very
physical differences between HIV and AIDS. Marcus' story
is interesting, however, as it demonstrates how the
experience of AIDS can blur strongly held
convictions:
..several times
actually I have come out with the comment "I
have AIDS' and it is only really the last six months,
or less even, that it actually flows out easily
without catching in my throat. Because, in the past,
I have actually confronted someone, a young fellow
who was very very ill, and everyone from five-hundred
paces could spot him as someone with AIDS, and he
kept talking about how he was HIV positive. He was
staying with us when he was very ill, he moved out of
his place. And I ended up screaming at him one day
and saying 'Look [NAME] you have got AIDS. You are
not HIV positive'. So when I sort of knew that I was
officially AIDS, I knew I had to say 'I have AIDS'.
But in some ways I don't feel that different, you
know what I mean. It is not like the colour of my
skin has changed or someone has printed it on my
forehead or something, I am still [Marcus].
In some instances,
especially for those who seroconverted in the late 1980s
in the midst of a complicated system of HIV/AIDS
classifications, an AIDS diagnosis was not necessarily
"the beginning of the end". Participants spoke
of a "premature" Category IV AIDS diagnosis
and/or an improved capacity to cope with AIDS-related
illnesses through better treatments. Anthony, for
example, was diagnosed with encephalitis (an AIDS-related
condition) when he first discovered he was HIV+ but he
positions himself differently to other PLWA, particularly
those with a lower CD4 count:
I had thought 'Oh shit
I think I am stable at my count' 180/200 for 6 years
but knowing that maybe it may drop real quickly for
some unknown reason and then I go 'Shit, that is a
really different state to go into'. That next point
again from an AIDS-related condition to going to full
blown AIDS. And I am not sure how I will cope when I
get to that point.
Illness Trajectories
Our research shows a clear
relationship between diagnosis of AIDS and the
self-construction of an illness trajectory (see Nokes
1991 for more on this concept). However, the time and
social context of that diagnosis critically altered the
sorts of trajectories constructed. In turn, there was a
great diversity in individual perceptions of a sense of
mortality.
Robert, diagnosed with HIV
in the very early years of the epidemic, speaks of his
response to his first AIDS-related illness (in
1991):
I got a really big
fright in that first illness. I think we all do, I
know that I did. Had this idea that 'I was going to
be one of the survivors and I am fairly invincible
and I will be around to tell the tales to generations
to come' and all that sort of shit. And it bought up
my mortality, like a slap in the face. When I got out
of hospital, every encounter was the most important
encounter in my life. Every hello had to be
heartfelt, I really needed to sit people down in my
life and tell them how important they were. And I had
to value everything. I was also very overwhelmed, it
was the first time I had been on the receiving end of
physical support from other people.
And Frank (diagnosed HIV+
1985, first AIDS illness 1994) expands further:
There's a certain
arrogance that I think I had when I was HIV positive,
the arrogance of being well, looking fine, can't tell
that I've got it, and a sense of um..maybe I'm going
to be one of those ones who doesn't get sick, there
was that whole sort of percentages and figures when I
was first diagnosed that hey, there might only be
twenty percent of those diagnosed that will go onto
full-blown AIDS, so you sort of kidded yourself in
the mid-eighties...and um..the big difference is
suddenly 'Ok, I'm mortal, I'm not going to live
forever and let's hope it's not an ugly infection.
Let's hope it's sort of clean and simple'.
The strength of conviction
then amongst long-term survivors must be contrasted with
their difficulties in coping with the first signs of
AIDS. Particularly for those who had overcome very
serious seroconversion illnesses and periods of
hospitalisation, the return of symptoms was a poignant
reminder of the terminal nature of AIDS.
For those who
seroconverted much later, there was a tendency to be more
philosophical about facing AIDS illnesses, with the
improved treatment outlook possibly enhancing their
coping capacities.
David
I've just been able to
accept the condition and my aim is to make the most
of the time I have left, and if you like thinking of
it as early retirement is probably a good way around
it for me because then I don't have to chop off
aspects of my life, and say - there's no point in
doing this because who knows how long I've
got...
Whilst some
differentiation can be made between the onset of illness
depending on the year of HIV and AIDS diagnoses, what we
particularly sought were those influences and processes
that determine how an individual conceives and then
perceives themselves on the illness trajectory. A sample
of participants highlight the variety of responses:
Jacob
I guess it took me,
maybe..three or four months after I was diagnosed and
a couple of months after I was um..sort of being
treated for PCP to actually realise that being
infected with HIV and having AIDS were two different
things.
John
[Was there a point when
you realised, before you got sick or around the time you
got sick, when you realised that you didn't just have HIV
but that things were more serious?]
Well, only when I got
PCP. And uh, one of the research nurses said, 'Oh has
the doctor told you that your category has now
changed?'. I said 'No', and she said 'Well, it has.
It's changed from HIV to AIDS'. And she was a bit
annoyed that the doctor had not told me that my
classification had changed. And that sort of, gives
you a big fright then because you think 'Well, ok,
I'm on the AIDS um list now, sort of'. And uh, it did
sort of shock me at the time.
Brian
It wasn't clear to me
at that stage what they were really trying to say to
me... what do you mean, like you've either got HIV
positive and you're going to get sick and die or you
haven't got the virus and you're going to be alright?
..um and what do you mean it can sit in your body
like ah a dormant cancer or whatever for years and
years?
The differences between
HIV and AIDS then cannot be easily reduced to the point
of diagnosis as the original hypothesis might have
presumed. Living asymptomatically with HIV and dying from
AIDS-related symptoms merely denote two stages in a
continuum from point of HIV diagnosis to the final death.
Even these end points lack precision. For some of the
participants, diagnosis with HIV came as a major surprise
but many also had a sense of their serostatus prior to
diagnosis, particularly those who received a dual
HIV/AIDS diagnosis further into the epidemic. Thus, the
importance of social context cannot be stressed too
highly. The brief but rich history of AIDS has already
given rise to a vast assortment of sites and stages on
which people living with HIV/AIDS respond to the
socio-political, cultural and economic circumstances
surrounding them.
Experiencing AIDS is a
complex mix of physical, social, medical and emotional
processes, and individuals respond in diverse ways. In
focussing on the differences between HIV and AIDS in the
first hypothesis, we have already witnessed what a
complex mix of psycho-social processes are involved in
individual's responses. Not only is there a diversity of
responses within an individual - the variations across
different personalities and groups are striking. Even the
relatively homogenous group of Transitions
participants demonstrate the difficulties in attributing
a particular response to any specific sociological
category.
PHYSICAL
RESPONSES TO AIDS
Sex
One of the more
obvious physical ramifications of AIDS is its impact on
sexual desire, performance and identity. Much literature
has been devoted to the impact of AIDS on sexual cultures
in a preventative context but little attention has
focussed on the sexual lives of symptomatic PLWH/A. Green
(1994) and Sandstrom (1996) both provide credible
exceptions, even if the majority of their research
subjects were still living reasonably well.
Body Image
Many of the Transitions
participants spoke of the difficulties in dealing with a
declining body image. For some, this affected their whole
capacity to engage in a physical relationship.
Patrick
I mean I miss it, and
I grieve it and all that stuff and that would be
lovely, but what I miss is the intimacy. The sexual
part of it is so, so with that. And probably the
biggest thing that gets in the way with me is the
stuff around body image, because that's changed, and
how I perceive how I look, and whether I'm attractive
or not, and certainly in the last six months in
particular, I've felt really ugly, and really
"AIDSy" and really unattractive to the
point where I imagine I'm just not giving out any of
those sort of vibes. I sort of have had a major crush
on someone a while back, and it didn't work out, and
it was so painful, the rejection stuff in it, that
now I don't even know if it had anything to do with
my HIV status, but part of me thought that it
possibly did, and that was just immensely
difficult.
Ian talks despairingly
about his appearance:
And I look in the
mirror sometimes and I think "Oh my God!"
and I feel so gaunt and I think that that is the only
thing that really gives the whole thing away.
If I didn't have to worry, not that I worry about it,
I couldn't give a shit about it now, I have got to
the stage where I don't care anymore.
Louis also finds his
attitudes have changed about the need to appear
"impressive" in the prevailing sexual culture:
Well, what I have
noticed since the illness was there is - the other
thing that really comes to mind is that - I can't be
bothered with a lot of things like you know, how you
get yourself all dressed up and ready, and go to one
of the pubs and travel there and go to all the
hassles...
Desire
Gerry and Tony both
openly encapsulate the debilitating impact of illness and
its immediate effect on sexual desire.
Gerry
Obviously after being
so sick I had no sex drive at all - it just went, and
I had a fairly healthy sex life before that,... it
sort of came back slowly, the libido sort of came
back. I probably went to a couple of Club 80 [gay
entertainment venue] type things, once or twice, to
see if it still worked or not, and that was o.k. but
I didn't really enjoy it, I was really worried about
meeting people.
Tony
Well, it has been
zilch since I got sick, these four months. And the
strangest thing of all is I've had no sort of sexual
urge in that time. I can't even remember getting an
erection for...months. You know, I had spoken to the
doctor.. it's probably I'm so concerned with just
surviving, getting through treatments, everything
that's happened in that period of time, that sexual
side of things seem to be way down there and just
coping and coming to terms and trying and get your
life back on some sort of track seems to be
the most important thing. You know people say 'Well
is it because you feel you got this through having
sex that it's....?' Well for me that's a lot of crap.
That didn't turn me off, I mean I knew years ago that
I had HIV. I still had, you know, a sex life. At this
point in time it doesn't even sort of enter my
mind.
For others though, AIDS
brought up the challenge of confronting what it was that
they were really seeking through sexual experience:
Damien
..since then [HIV
diagnosis] I have practised safe sex, in that I've
only sucked penises but whether they were safe or not
I don't know and I've just masturbated but I had a
huge libido. Um...which was a problem and I probably
should have had counselling.
Marcus
And just some guys
that I have known, right to the end of their diseases
have gone down to the saunas and managed to have sex
and you know even... well I have been swimming at
swimming pools an awful lot as well and there are a
lot of disabled people go to swimming pools, like
amputees and paraplegics and... I started to see
people like that and you know.. you can be sexy, you
know just because.. But it is still a battle, you
know even the purple spots. They are visible during
sex and when we are sitting in bed together naked..
you know. You know, [PARTNER] and I try and joke
about them and stuff but.. yeah, it is hard.
Age
Certainly, the older
participants were conscious that their age was a factor
in downplaying the role of sex.
Robert
But in terms of sexual
practice and getting laid, basically, and my
confidence in negotiating that, that goes through big
slumps and often it is hard to decide or determine
whether that's intrinsically tied into my status as a
person with AIDS or whether I am getting old.
Anthony
There is not so much
of a desire for it. I don't have, don't have a fear
of it, just the urge is not there as it was. And that
could be partly because of the AIDS, I don't really
know the medical/scientific side of it, maybe because
of AIDS that the urge is not there. It maybe partly
because of treatments that the urge is not there and
partly because of being 40, and there is probably a
whole range of factors that have diminished my
desires to go out and bonk, bonk as much as I used
to...
Paul
I am now what I think
I would have been at about 68 or 70 or something like
that and that is not pleasant. I also, at time feel
somewhat unclean because of this contamination and I
think that those two things is [sic] the reason that
I have not had sex with anybody. I feel contaminated
and able to contaminate and I just don't think that
my body is anything like desirable.
For the bulk of the Transitions
interviewees then, the importance of sex had
substantially decreased, even for those whose health was
sufficient to sustain active sexual relationships. The
significant amount of time and energy required to
maintain sexual contact was simply not possible for so
many of those living from day to day with debilitating
illness. Again, it will be interesting to view the impact
of new treatments in relation to PLWH/A's sexual lives
over the next few years.
Pain
All participants were
asked specifically about their experience of pain. This
question was deliberately placed towards the end of the
interview so participants could place their understanding
of pain within a framework they had already constructed
during the interview. The research team was particularly
interested in how pain was linked to their notion of
debilitation. More specifically, we wished to gain more
understanding of the relationship between one's
experience of pain and one's conception of themselves as
a PLWA.
The most obvious
distinction to be made between the responses to this
question concerned those who addressed the physical
dimensions of pain versus those who had been more
affected emotionally. This distinction could not
necessarily be drawn between those who had experienced
more painful AIDS-related symptoms versus those who had
experienced very little. Julian, for instance, has
experienced severe toxoplasmosis and bone marrow cancer,
but in response to the question concerning pain, he
answers:
Well there's been
times where I could almost scream. One of my biggest
problems is loneliness, and it drives me around the
corner. Mm. I get angry...
Charles also focuses on
the non-physical dimensions of pain:
Pain, um..I just get
very tired a lot and I think that that's because I'm
mentally exhausted from the whole bloody trip.
Others, like Bruce,
interpreted pain more laterally:
Probably the main pain
I have now is that I s'pose I'm a bit negative about
my financial situation, even though I've still money
that could probably last me about ten years. I don't
know whether I'm going to be here for another ten
years, you know what I mean?
Acute Pain
Most respondents, however,
chose to concentrate on episodes of acute pain. In terms
of physical pain, responses tended to be divided
according to the type of symptoms experienced and their
chronicity. For those who had suffered temporary
AIDS-related symptoms and acute pain and were only very
recently re-experiencing mental illnesses like depression
and dementia, the following comments were typical:
Paul
I had a lot of pain at
one time, terrific amounts of muscular pain which
just disappeared, after months and months, just
disappeared overnight and God knows where it has
gone.
Gerry
I think I've been
fairly lucky. When I was in with PCP, I ended up in
the intensive-care one evening, I don't remember any
of it, but that was the second night I was in. I was
having unbelievable muscle spasms so I suppose I can
say that that was really severe, that was almost life
threatening. Other than that, I haven't really had
any physical pain except for just a circulation
problem that's not really a pain, so I've been very
lucky so far.
This feeling of relief is
evident too amongst those who have experienced a
particularly harsh episode of pain but remain relatively
pain-free:
Ian
This pain thing really
was when I had this clot...you lay on a bed about
this narrow and she got me up onto the bed, and I
said 'I just can't go through any more, you have got
to get me down, I just can't stand the pain'. I said
'I am not a complainer, I never complain about
anything, but this time it has really got me'. But
that was about the only time I have really known
really bad pain.
Robert
I still get episodes
of really intense headaches that can last for three
days of wipe-out with just no function. And then I
have a regime of pain control which usually works
itself up to thirty milligrams morphine tablets every
four hours and often they don't work either and I
have injectable pethidine in the fridge, and that is
just like the 'phone goes off, the lights go down.
But you know, mostly I function really without much
pain, but I do get these episodes.
Rationalising Pain
For some participants,
their experience of pain is rationalised along with all
the myriad of other emotions they encounter. To them,
bestowing the label "pain" elevates it to a
status they do not wish to grant:
Bill
Well, I haven't really
had a lot of pain. I have been bloody lucky. It's
probably been more the hideous discomfort which some
people might construe as pain, I would consider it
more discomfort because there's an expectation of it,
You were able to make
that distinction between pain and discomfort I mean..?
Yeah. It helps I think
if you think no I'm not in pain, I feel like shit but
I'm not in pain!
Neil
I like to get on with
my life. So I tend to ignore it. But then, I haven't
had chemotherapy like many of my other friends. But I
had quite a lot of chest pain and just lung pain. But
I tend to ignore it. I just manage it myself I think
"Oh well it's there, I can't do anything about
it, so let's get on with life a bit
and..."
Tony is able to
acknowledge the severe pain he has experienced but like
all his responses to coping with AIDS, he sees it as a
challenge:
But while it
[chemotherapy] is doing me good, I lie there and
think "Well, no gain without some pain, I
guess" but umm.. for how long you can go through
with that, I'm not sure. I always get upset when I
have the chemo because I don't like that toxic poison
going into me. I know what it is but it's my only
chance at having a bit more time. So I take that
positive outlook to it.
Other participants cope
similarly with pain by recognising its uncomfortableness
but trusting that it is a momentary experience:
Derek
Oh, I was getting
cramps through the body, severe kidney aches, liver
aches, bad chest pains, but that's all from anxiety.
So it comes and goes, you know. Just little things,
things you wouldn't believe... they can be just so
small. You know, they can come one week and go the
next, just little things. You know when you're
healthy, just by the way you feel inside. With HIV I
find that. You know if you're healthy or
unhealthy.
Brett
You do go through
incredible pain sometimes with some of the
procedures. Well, a lot of them are very
uncomfortable, shall we say, rough, extremely but, I
just close my eyes and think of England. I hate
having my blood taken. I just loathe it, I really
just hate it! And that's only you know blood letting.
But all the endoscopies and the sigmoidoscopies and
the colonoscopies and [laugh] everything else they
shove up and in your body..it's uncomfortable.
Illness Settings
Acknowledging pain,
for others, was triggered by the illness setting. Kim,
for example, directly relates pain to her hospital
stay:
You look around and
you're in hospital and you think shit, you know, this
is where you come when you're in pain so..{laugh}.
Yeah..it's just been a really really big head spin
for me.
Whereas for Daniel, the
process of hospitalisation is actually an opportunity to
relieve himself of the burden of coping with pain:
I quite like being
hospitalised in a sense... because I'd actually got
so ill, you know and it's been an opportunity to let
go. And um..to be looked after you know and to say
'Look, I don't want to fight this fucking thing any
more!'. And I really do get sick of it, you know, the
whole HIV psyche of the virus.
Combatting Pain
Like many of the other
areas investigated, it was vital for many of those
interviewed that there was some certainty amidst the
complexity of AIDS, particularly when experiencing pain.
For Jacob, it was important that his pain be labelled:
I was just feeling
basically ratshit, you know the couple of weeks
leading up to going into hospital. Um..and sort of
getting headaches and stuff and then, I was one of
the small percentage of people I guess who can say
that ended up getting what's known as lumbar puncture
headaches.
Others coped with acute
pain more actively, especially those eager to nullify its
debilitating physical effects with recreational
drugs:
Frank
But the worst
definitely was the histoplasmosis. Like extraordinary
pain, and again I'm not big on pain you know
personally so, apart from the morphine I was chain
smoking joints just to sort of smooth it out. And
that works, that works. But again I'm unconscious
practically and to me that's not a life. Ah..I don't
really like getting stoned every day but that's my
experience of pain.
Marcus
Because I was using
recreational drugs, I was able to sort of rationalise
away pain and stuff like that and so it probably
wasn't until... maybe even until I got the K.S.
[Karposis Sarcoma] diagnosis, or several months
later, like six months later, I started to realise
the pain was in my legs. But even then I kept
thinking that 'Oh, this will go away. It will go
away.'
Jake
But I don't want any
pain... they're going to give me morphine. I keep
asking. I think it's sensible. I've seen enough
people go through pain. I don't mind the occasional
eccy. But I don't drink much any more. If I do, I
sometimes collapse.
John
It's more nausea and
stomach you know that's one of me biggest things is
nausea and they're working on it, the federal and the
state government at the moment to try and import a
drug which has cannabis in it.
Again, many of these
participants did not have a sense that their pain was
permanent. Indeed, even Jeff, so clearly in his final
stages of AIDS with recurring viral meningitis, speaks of
pain in the past tense:
I can't describe pain
but oh, very intense, yeah. It just drove me crazy.
You thought you were going to go mad.
Choosing When To Die
(Euthanasia)
Of course, any discussion
of pain for those in the terminal phases of their illness
is likely to raise the topic of euthanasia. However, it
was surprising that so few of the participants raised
euthanasia or suicide without prompting [interviewers
pursued the matter only if it was raised by the
participant]. In an era of improved treatments, even
participants hospitalised and very sick were able to
picture some relief from their pain. Patrick's experience
is illustrative:
When I've been really
sick and I've been in lots of pain, I suppose it's
interesting, it's such an odd way of being. I mean it
affects so many things in your mind and your brain
and what you're thinking about. I was quite ill with
this stomach thing I had, and I was just cramping
constantly with this shooting pain, and I wanted
relief, but I don't think I was thinking 'I just want
to die'. I wanted the pain to stop.
Roger also has suffered
excruciating pain but his comments below should not be
interpreted as a serious plea for euthanasia
assistance:
Pain, to most people
is, oh 'I've got a headache!' but to me, pain is when
you grit your teeth and scream. You know, and that's
since the chemo. Twice I've been back to [hospital]
with this nausea headache and you do get to the point
where you beg to die.
In this respect, Louis'
comments are unrepresentative of our sample:
I've got a low
tolerance to pain. I don't whether that's
interconnected with what you're actually asking but I
don't like the thought of being laid up in a hospital
bed, and just being kept alive to suffer a whole lot
of pain, when there's no future in that, sort of
thing. If it's just a prolonged existence, then I
don't see a great deal of point, when it's just
really to suffer.
Nevertheless, this study
should not be interpreted as one advocating against
legalised euthanasia. Rather, it is more likely that it
reflects the improved pain management amongst PLWA, and
the fact that so many of the participants, even those
hospitalised at the time of interview, could still
imagine a pain-free future. To this extent, suicidality
was only a very minor issue amongst the Transitions
participants6.
SOCIAL
RESPONSES TO AIDS
Relationships
The very limited
role that sexual activity played in participants' lives
cannot be solely reduced to a lack of sexual desire and
poor body image. For a range of reasons, only five (5)
participants in the Transitions study were
involved in a permanent relationship at the time of
interview. Several had lost lovers and partners through
AIDS but many simply felt incapable of sustaining an
ongoing relationship. Some acceptance and intimacy was
possible in a setting where serostatus was known:
Mick
I suppose at the end
of the six months I was seeing him I felt a little
bit better about my body but at the same time I do
sense there were tensions to do with the fact that I
had AIDS and um well he was pretty together about
sleeping with someone who was positive but there were
issues um to do with sores, um...
Family
However, more
prevalent was the fact that most spoke of a need for more
fulfilling relationships with friends and, in some cases,
family. Mick, again, expresses this succinctly:
Since '89 I have had a
remarkable transformation with my relationship with
the family. I mean, I know it's partly because they
think I won't be around for much longer. But it's
also because they now appreciate how important that
relationship is to me. I've made it quite clear to
them that um I do want them around.
The affect that families
had on participant's capacity to cope with the transition
from HIV to AIDS in many respects reflects the pattern
established earlier in the relationship, particularly
with issues about disclosing sexuality and HIV status. In
other words, few experiencing difficulties in sharing
feelings about their sexual preference and HIV status
with members of their family prior to becoming ill
with AIDS, were able to fully resolve these issues in the
terminal stages. Derek offers a typical example:
I don't like to go
near the family too much now. Or me twin sister and
her kids and we're very close. It's because they
don't believe I've got AIDS, they reckon it's a
sympathy story from the alcohol. Because she still
doesn't believe the fact that I have AIDS. But it
worries me that if I get sick down the track that
it's going to freak them all out, like losing weight
and going up there and looking like death. So that
sort of has a lot to do with not going up seeing the
family much, and staying away from them.
And Barry's difficulties
in coping with recent AIDS illnesses have only compounded
an already dysfunctional relationship:
Even though there was
only three of us and I was really tight with me Mum,
there wasn't really a lot of love lost, between us.
I'm pretty selfish and so are they. But [you get]
that "you got that disease" [quote from
father] as if I did it on purpose, to annoy him, so
he couldn't hold his head up at the bowling club. My
son's a "poofter" [slang for homosexual]
which I'm not but I mean it's a tiny country town, if
word got out, Dad would be totally...I don't want
that to happen anyway. I mean I don't like the man,
but I don't want him to go through any pain you know.
I don't point any fingers, and I don't expect any
retribution.
Nevertheless, whilst
patterns of emotional response to disclosures about
sexuality and HIV status tended to follow
long-established family behavioural norms, it is clear
that the onset of AIDS-related symptoms was a catalyst
for the expression of deep-seated convictions. For some
families, this presented possibilities of "burying
the hatchet":
Brian
It's one thing that
I've noticed also in the last couple of months... in
my case and in the majority of cases that I've seen,
it brings the family back together. I'm a real
classic as far as that's concerned, um, [with] my
mother and father.
Indeed, for Charles, other
relative's discriminatory approach to AIDS became a
bonding experience for his own family:
My cousin was [HIV]
positive for two years and he just hated me bitterly
because I'd been positive for so long and there
wasn't anything wrong with me and he'd led virtually
a pure life compared to my purely hedonistic life
{laugh} and he couldn't deal with that. Some of my
other family, cousins and aunties and that can't deal
with that either. But my own family know, we're much
closer than what we ever were. They've shown a lot of
care, they've shown a lot of interest, they know more
about new treatments than what I do.
For other families, it was
more a pragmatic issue where they felt they could only
contribute effectively once obvious symptoms emerged.
Julian and Lindsay's responses are apposite:
Since your illness,
how's your relationship with your family, with your
parents?
Well, they've actually
improved... they became more understanding I think,
compassionate.
Lindsay
I think it's made it
easier for my Dad to show his feelings, because he
can give me a hug anywhere now - it doesn't worry
him.
However, the arrival of
AIDS symptoms in Con's life triggered an opposite
reaction from his family, particularly when details about
his will were discussed:
There's friction there
because, you know my parents are saying 'Why go to a
solicitor, why not approach us or whatever?' but you
know the relationship has never been too good anyway
between me and my parents. So I thought well bugger
this, I'm not going to put up with any more of this
shit and um you know I separated completely from the
family really. And that's the way it's been really
for um for the last seven or eight months or so. I
haven't heard from them. I just go about and live my
life and if they don't like it, well they don't like
it.
Interestingly, where
participants had experienced AIDS symptoms but had
subsequently improved, opportunities for confronting
family difficulties were more easily avoided. Gerry
disclosed his HIV status soon after diagnosis but speaks
of more recent circumstances:
But since telling
them, since the diagnosis, I suppose the relationship
hasn't changed that much. I'm still a bit of a loner
and they tend to not pry or interfere too much and
they haven't really told me all that much about how
they feel. The eldest member of the family, one
sister, seems to know what the rest of the family say
and stuff so I still don't think they are sure what
to say so they still let be on my own a bit. But I
think it has improved, it is a lot more relaxed than
it was and family get-togethers I sort of enjoy.
There was never any problems but I just used to think
'Ooh, not another family get together!' but it seems
to be a bit more relaxed. But we are probably still
not really talking about it, it has gone back into
denial a little bit because I am actually looking
well and I think they are happy with the way things
are and don't really want to talk about it.
These comments merely add
weight to overwhelming evidence about the immense
difficulty that most modern cultures have in publicly
discussing issues around death (see Kellehear 1984).
Rather than perceive this discomfort as a deliberately
calculated lack of support, some participants were able
to acknowledge the broader context in which their
relationship with their family was occurring:
Marcus
Our relationship is
improving. I have heard some people with AIDS that
express a lot of anger towards their parents that
they, y'know, like 'My mother won't talk about it,
she changes the...'. I mean because those
things happen, my mother does change the subject
quite often and doesn't want to talk about it and
sometimes my father says really stupid things like he
is not acknowledging that it is happening and my
brother doesn't even acknowledge it at all. But I
feel like I have got to appreciate it in context of
their environment, like they are all quite suburban
people living in the suburbs, like I was.
Patrick
I feel enormous
pressure from the networks, and from my friends and
my family in a whole range of ways, particular
members of my family who have difficulties in
actually talking about IT, it's not that they want to
reject me, they just find the death stuff really,
really hard. To some extent I include my mother in
that, and that's probably one of the most significant
relationships in my life... If I raise the big, dark,
black things, she says things like "Well, you
shouldn't think about that, dear" - stuff like
that - now she does that out of her own stuff
obviously, but I get frustrated.
An inability to articulate
feelings associated with death certainly placed a strain
on participant's relationships with their families,
particularly as the affect of AIDS and immanent death
heightened emotions from both sides around attachment and
reliance on one another. For someone like David, such
awareness could even defer disclosure:
Naturally, I was a bit
reticent about how the family would receive the news
because I'd never said anything about my sexuality or
anything like that. They could suspect that if they
wanted, but that's my business. It's never actually
been stated at any stage, but the main thing is the
family were shocked and worried, not that I had AIDS,
but that AIDS is a death sentence. And I suppose
we're all conscious of that. We want to make the
remaining time as good as possible.
"Making the
most" of the final months can amount to a very
pressured atmosphere and linked to these sentiments was
often the guilt that accompanied many parents' thoughts
that they had outlived their children. Our interviews saw
the concept most candidly expressed in relation to
parents who had little exposure to their son's
involvement with the gay community:
Bill
Their difficulty is
that parents don't outlive children and I'll be the
second son that will die so they're coping as well as
they can, Mum and Dad and my two brothers and my
sister. Obviously it's far more difficult for them
because, for them, it's an alien situation whereas
for me it's a lot more commonplace and I've been to
many funerals and seen people and helped them through
this current situation that I'm in, so it's no great
shock for me.
Tony
My mother is a great
supportive person. I have never ever had any problem,
from telling her that I was gay to HIV to finally
this. She naturally is, I can tell, very upset and
distraught. Because, I guess, as a parent always
assuming that your children will outlive you and not
vice-versa and the fact that she knows that I am in
pain, that things aren't so good.
Disclosure
For those infected at a
later age, there was a tendency to resist telling elderly
parents for their own "protection". This
resulted in a range of deception tactics when illnesses
first appeared:
Louis
My parents don't know
that I'm positive - they're in their 70's. I asked
doctors, etc. about who to tell and he said there's
not a lot of benefit from it. For them knowing,
they'll get stressed out and there's not a lot they
can achieve. My sister knows.
Do your parents know
that you've been ill?
Oh yeah, they know
I've had pneumonia. And the thing was - as soon as
they found out that I had Sarcoid - they already
wrote that off as being AIDS and I was going to die
anyway. All they were concerned about was that they
got at least a mention in my will, which I thought -
"Yep, my father, he is financially so
miserable", and that was his main concern - that
they were mentioned in my will, that they weren't
left out. So the relationship like that with my
father is more strained because of his approach all
the way along.
Damian
No, I haven't told
them yet but again, they live down in [country place]
which is down near [place] and I want to go down.
This is what I am terrified of, because if they find
out before I tell them, it'll kill them. And, my
brother's got Parkinson's disease, and my mother's
just been diagnosed with cancer and she's got the
most terrible osteoporosis. So, when I get better, I
am going to go down for a night and just tell her. I
may not even stay the night...
Roger too is able to
rationalise his inability to tell his own children and
family about his latest lymphoma attack because of more
urgent medical crises:
Because they have a
number of personal problems of their own... my mother
she has bone problems, and she really can't be
by herself. My eldest sister has a back
problem which has been operated on. She can't do
housework like she used to. So, her and mum have
decided to sell both their places and move to another
one where they'll be next to each other, together.
To do that, Mum has to borrow fifty thousand dollars.
Now, a seventy-eight year old pensioner lady who has
difficulty doing...that's something that's come up
for the family which has caused a very significant
strain, within the family. And, on her. So I don't
want to them to find out. They're the only ones I
wouldn't tell in sort of, my generation.
A younger man like Jacob
has not experienced as many illnesses or long-term
hospitalisation and thus has not been forced to confront
disclosing his AIDS diagnosis to his family.
Nevertheless, he still frets about the timing of such
disclosure and tries to pre-empt their response:
Well that's another
sort of a nightmare I guess. I actually haven't told
them that I've got a problem. My mum knows that I've
been in hospital. I was going to be going up [north]
and had it in mind to sort of spill the beans then,
so to speak. I think they would.. obviously they
wouldn't be pleased. But I think they'd be
reasonably level headed enough to, ok, if that's it,
that's it, then let's get on with it, sort of
thing.
For Frank, a willingness
to disclose has failed to narrow what he perceives as an
enormous generational difference between he and his
mother:
My mother, who's 82, I
made a decision about four years ago to call her
every Sunday morning because I'd lived out of the
country for about twelve years and I'd speak to her
every three months or something. But I thought, 'Hey
she's old, I'll make that commitment to her, just to
let her know I'm in her life and appease her a bit'
and that's ok. But I find it a bit of a chore because
her attitude is that we've got very similar
situations in our lives. She's coming to the end of
her life and so am I. I really resent her making
those analogies. I don't agree and I leave that
conversation alone as much as I can. I don't think
she really understands the whole significance, the
context of my friends dying, the stress involved, a
whole sort of culture, a generation gone, she hasn't
a clue what that means but she never knew what gay
meant to me, you know gay community, gay identity and
all that.
This search for honesty
and integrity in family relationships was vital to a
process of healing and restoring relationships in the
valuable remaining time. For some participants, such a
search necessitated a demanding standard of honesty but
offered a more authentic relationship:
Robert
The really difficult
part this time was going to see my family. Because it
was my expectation, that I was not going to recover,
even when I started this drug therapy. And that this
could be the last time I might see them and all that
stuff. And I looked like garbage, it wasn't a good
look. So I got someone to put me on a plane because I
was still really weak and I was still on a walking
stick. One of my sisters picked me up from the
airport and she looked at me and she burst into
tears. Which is never like, never an encouraging
sign. But it is more honest and I appreciate it more
than "Gee, you look well", which I actually
got from some people and you just look at them and
say 'I look like shit. You don't have to pretend that
this is not going on'.
Brett
Once again, because
you're able to be honest with them and to share it,
it's not such a daunting process. I mean it's like
anyone who is terminally ill, I mean why should we be
scared to say we have AIDS? I mean I'm no better off
than anyone or worse off than anyone with cancer or
multiple sclerosis or leukaemia or whatever. And,
most of my family live elsewhere not in [Australian
city], but phone once a week or once every few weeks
and they know the progress.
The roles of families in
the lives of people living with AIDS is so central it
virtually warrants another study paper7. Even here, where so many of the
interviewees had experienced difficult relationships with
their families of origin, most families played an
increasingly vital role as the impact of illness took
affect.
Friendship
Friendships have long been
recognised as a critical factor in sustaining the health
of PLWH/A (see Zich & Temoshok 1987; Grief &
Porembski 1988 and Hays et al 1990). For our
participants, these relationships became even more
important as their health declined and reliance on care
increased. Certainly many had delineated a close circle
of friends during their asymptomatic years of living with
HIV but an AIDS diagnosis further intensified the role of
friendships. Gerry suffered from AIDS related illnesses
immediately following his HIV diagnosis but was
reasonably well at the time of interview. He speaks about
his experiences:
In terms of other
things, relationships and friendships it seems to
have helped. I suppose if anything I've gotten to
know about my sexuality as well, I wasn't very
comfortable about my whole lifestyle, I was living
alone and didn't have any interests before I was
diagnosed, but when I was diagnosed all of a sudden
I've got friendships and I have a relationship, it
has been a bit of a turn-around.
Brian also talks about an
HIV diagnosis as the dividing line for the future of
particular friendships:
Well, you soon find
out once you let people know that you're HIV positive
or a carrier of hepatitis, where their loyalties lie,
or where your strengths of friendship lie. Um, so you
don't really have to weed out the good friends from
the bad friends, they weed themselves out with how
they view things.
Bill, on the other hand,
died only a few weeks after his interview (the shortest
period between interview and death of all the
participants). His comments on friendship are
salient:
I think they've become
more and more helpful and friends, the real friends,
have really intensified that friendship and the
assistance they give me just in chatting, laughing
and physical assistance. Like this morning when
{name} came around and cleaned up shit everywhere -
that's a rare help and it's just the most comforting
thing, you think "Well look, someone wants to do
that!".
Relationships with friends
tended to follow a similar path to family relationships
following the transition from HIV to AIDS. In other
words, those whose friendships were strong prior to the
transition invariably spoke of solid friendships as they
coped with AIDS and vice versa. Louis' story is apposite
here:
I've only got a small
group of friends, most of those know, but people that
I used to work with outside of that don't know - so
it hasn't changed anything with them. Within the
group of friends, they're more supportive. I think to
some extent they make the effort to see that I'm
involved with the things that they're doing. A lot of
the time when I was at work, I was working odd hours
anyway, so if I wasn't available for something, that
was fine. Now they make a point of letting me know
what's happening, so that I can be involved with
them.
However, this did not
preclude significant shifts in the way that many of these
friendships operated, as both sides adjusted to dealing
with illness.
Patrick
Fundamentally people
have stuck by me, which has been great, but they've
all had to go through significant changes in terms of
accommodating the practicals - when I've been in
hospital and when I've been not well, and then not
being able to function as I used to, they've had to
accommodate in that way, just in terms of time and
stuff, but it's a real split because when I'm feeling
sick, it's not that I don't want people around, I do
want them around, but I have not a lot of energy to
give them and for me that's been a really painful
process in trying to change them, feel comfortable
about this new relationship, that no, I'm not
[Patrick] that they used to know.
Indeed, Patrick's fear
about placing unfair demands on his friends was shared by
many of the participants who had experienced long bouts
of hospitalisation and/or feeling unwell. For some, this
meant acknowledging the frustration from both
perspectives:
Frank
With my friends now..
we're just running out of friends and people we can
count on. In fact, my support network at the moment
is eighty percent women, who are fantastic but I try
not to put demands on my friends. But at the moment,
we're sort of eating each other up alive. You know
like we can't step back and say "Maybe we're
really stressed here!". We're just like
"UGGHHH!!!" [scream which nearly deafened
the transcriber] with the anger and the pain and all
of that.
Peter
With my friends, I've
probably been a bit touchy towards them because I
don't feel they understand. At all...you know I have
a lot more straight friends than gay friends and the
gay friends I do have are negative anyhow and I don't
think they can truly comprehend what's happening to
me in my mind and how I'm feeling and sometimes
they're a bit callous when they say things, they just
don't think. They walk too quickly, they won't slow
down. And I need people to do that. I can't walk at
the same pace I used to be able to.
While for others like Neil
and Paul, this required a recognition that lives had
changed irrevocably:
I do feel a little bit
ostracised by my friends to the extent that I don't
feel like I've got any, you know? Or the people who I
thought were friends were probably more associates.
But I think that's their defence mechanisms - they've
helped nurse various people through 'til death and it
sort of drags. I ring them occasionally if I'm in
hospital and I say "Look just say here's my
phone number". I don't want them to come and
visit because they'll see me going down like
everybody else.
Paul
Most have either died
or got their own concerns. I do keep in touch with
nowhere near as much as I should, I think. But, you
see I spend so much time in another place now, and
some people react to a situation like this by, for
instance, they take to the piss or they start running
around whoring and all this sort of stuff. My
pleasures are more cerebral these days. I seem to
spend more periods alone in contemplation.
The recognition that
friendships have taken different paths is neatly
articulated by Don:
Illness strikes not at
the right time and not between nine and five and it's
been my experience that once I started getting sick
then a couple of my friends also started getting
employment opportunities which changed the
availability that I'd had with them in the past. So
they weren't available when I expected them to be,
but there were other people that entered my life. OK,
I have got a different relationship with them but at
the same time it's still support.
Rejecting and Accepting
Like many other
characteristics of the transition from HIV to AIDS, the
whole notion of friendship may be questioned as PLWH/A
consider how to utilise their remaining time. Daniel
expresses his regrets that in this process, he rejected
sincere friends:
I began to question
who were my friends and friendships saying "What
is the quality of this friendship, why is this going
along? Why is this person being so kind to me? And
I'd just wish they'd fuck off". And I began
dropping friends. There was a cleric and he [said]
"Well you must admit that you haven't got years
left". You know, I said "I don't need to
hear this, go away!". But [to] people who had
been incredibly kind, I left instructions for them to
be told. You know, these people had been really
kind.
However, as identified
already, PLWH/A may reach a stage where friends become
not only critical to their ongoing health but essential
to their ability to accept what friends can offer:
Ian
I don't know whether a
selection is the right word, but I have a small group
of friends, who are very supportive and that's all I
really feel that I need. I don't want twenty people
crawling all over me, I am quite happy to have two or
three good friends who come in, and when they come in
you know that they are genuine.
Some friends had
deliberately sought to adjust their lifestyles to
accommodate PLWA in the latter stages of their
illness:
Jeff
They keep an eye on me
more. Keep in much closer contact. Not mainly just
because I was sick but since I lost [lover's name] as
well. They moved in closer around me I think, for
support. They're lovely friends.. I'm very lucky I
suppose.
Although others found it
difficult to contain their friends' desire to provide
hands-on care:
John
I've found that they
have to look after me more like inviting me out for
dinner to make sure I eat and I presume that they'd
notice you know when I'm losing weight...more of a
mothering type of thing.
And Tony is angry about
how his friends' overbearing attitude tends to patronise
him:
I have other friends
too that, for some reason, I mean I am treated with
kid gloves. And I said to these people, "I am
still conscious of things and I can see what you are
doing, and I can feel what you're doing and I don't
want you to do that. Don't treat me like an invalid,
and like a different person. Because I am not a
different person. Eventually, I may change but in
me I am always the person that you have always
known, and I want to be treated as such".
Survivor Guilt
Not surprisingly,
many Transitions participants had already suffered
a great deal of loss of friendship through AIDS deaths,
particularly gay men living in the heart of Sydney.
Survivor guilt is a phenomenon identified across a number
of disasters and fatal epidemics and has been
particularly poignant in large urban gay communities
worldwide8. Robert capably explains the
sociological impact:
I run this theory
currently that HIV community and gay community
members, particularly in Sydney, we are dysfunctional
just like the nature of what has been going on for
ten years, that the responses that we are having to
losing our friends are not normal, that this has had
a deep effect on our collective or our communal
psyche. And so it would be nice to be well and to be
in a community or to be somewhere that is a bit more
optimistic about what is going on.
Brett is not from Sydney
but talks openly about his sense of loss:
Most of my best
friends are dead, which causes a very strange feeling
within me because, on the odd occasion I actually
feel guilty, which is very hard to explain... more
and more people come up [and say] "How come
you've gone on for so long? You look so well"
and you think "Are they angry or what have I
done that they haven't done?".
There is also a deep sense
of bereavement in Bruce's words:
The sadness of it is
that you know, we were a close knit group of friends,
and basically about eighty percent of them have gone,
have died. And it's very hard, even though
your family's there, you know like, if I ring up now
and had a dinner party, I'd be lucky to get three
people here. Whereas five six years ago there'd be
seven or eight. And that's the sad thing because you
know you can't get on the phone and have a
giggle and talk about your life.
Other participants were
very aware of the difficulties of negotiating friendships
amidst such uncertainty. For Marcus and David, there is a
distinct reluctance to form friendships for fear of what
they might lose:
It has been strange in
some ways, I suppose I am scared to form new
friendships because I don't think that I am much of a
viable proposition for people. In [HOME CITY], I
guess I knew a lot of people there and I was very
superficial and I thought that "These are just
the people that are around me at the moment, there's
no point in me forming any endearing friendships or
long term sort of thing here".
David
I think these friends,
they're just continuing on with their lives and there
are so many things that will happen. I have some very
good friends [including] a young family - they have a
young baby and I know that I just won't be part of
their future. They're part of my life now, and I'm
very much part of their life, but I do think about
things like that.
Relationships with
Health Care Providers
The nature of AIDS
dictates that illnesses will require regular interactions
with health care providers. However, the complexity of
AIDS also affects the type and incidence of contact with
the medical profession. Neither does the patient-service
provider relationship exist in a vacuum - the importance
of the relationship is defined primarily by the beliefs,
values and life experiences both bring to their
relationship. Given this assumption, it was to be
expected that our second hypothesis in relation to this
issue would be confirmed. To a large extent for the Transitions
participants, coping with AIDS did evoke a complex
mix of emotions with respect to health care
providers.
Nevertheless, it is
interesting to note the central role that doctors play
for the Transitions participants, particularly
when AIDS symptoms emerge:
Patrick
Often it's doctors
that'll say that "your stage is Category
4", whatever, whatever, but it really does bring
it home to you... it's a bit different to being
someone who's positive, I think.
For Patrick, it is
critical that the doctor-patient relationship
acknowledges the need for the patient to retain a sense
of control, particularly when one is feeling increasingly
less control over their own health management:
I think I want a
doctor who'll care - that's what I want - now I don't
know whether that's reasonable any more or not, but I
actually want someone who really cares in a sense,
that may or may not be appropriate for a
doctor/patient sort of relationship I don't know but
that's what I want. I want accessibility, I want
quick service, I want to be able to see them the day
that I feel shithouse - that's not usually the case,
they're busy.
David also is very clear
about where his doctor fits in the management of his
health:
I was a little bit
worried at the start about how efficient this
particular man was - but I've sort of resolved those
worries. I don't think he is the most efficient of
doctors but he has done everything he can and because
he is one of a team now, as opposed to the person,
the specialist who is in charge of me, that's OK, and
he's also an extremely caring man, and that also
makes up for a hell of a lot as well.
Many of the participant's
comments with respect to the relationship with their
doctor bear witness to the notion of patient empowerment.
Though this is a characteristic long encouraged by
promoters of the new public health and now well noted
amongst the political movement of people living with
HIV/AIDS, there has been very little distinction made by
both advocates and service providers between asymptomatic
and symptomatic PLWH/A. Our interviews provide some clear
evidence that PLWA are determined to retain their sense
of empowerment despite the physical burdens and
limitations. Don reflects these sentiments:
[B]ecause until you
are actually faced with um, an AIDS defining illness
everything else is relatively ok to cope with and
sort of so long as it's explained to you and I find
that this is my life, I'm in control of it and so
whatever the doctors are wanting to do, I want to
know what they're doing.
and Gary expands
further:
Generally, if there's
a query, I will ask, or challenge them on that. For
example, they started talking about the MAC
[Mycobacterium avium complex] treatment after the
fourth attack, and yet they didn't take it to the
start of the trial until after the ninth. And I said,
"Why not - why not try it - I'll try
anything".
Understandably, many
participants sought ongoing assurance from doctors about
their health amidst coping with such a turbulent disease
as AIDS. For some, this necessitated finding a doctor
prepared to offer definitive statements:
Ian
Well the doctor I have
got, I was only saying to [Hospice Dr] yesterday or
the day before when I was talking to her that [Ian's
GP] is a very direct person, a spade is a spade, no
pussyfooting around with him - a spade can't be a
half a diamond and half a heart, you know. And I like
that, I like that.
Brett
...and I ask the
doctor a lot of questions and if they say "I
don't know" and I don't know then I give them my
opinion.
Anger
Sometimes the medical
profession's failure to fulfill the patient's desire to
keep being properly informed generated a great degree of
anger:
Frank
I think '91 I had my
first bout of shingles. And, that was pretty
sobering, so I embraced the medical profession um..I
had a GP, HIV specialist and I went to a clinic at
[name], and I tried AZT and it made me feel sick, so
I stopped, and that started off a real sort of battle
with the doctors because they almost.. I got the
feeling that they just lost interest me if I wasn't
prepared to take the drugs they were giving me, so I
gave them attitude and said "Fuck
you!".
Neil
Ah..but I'm forgotten
by the medical people. "So I haven't developed
cancer", I said to them the other day, "I'm
terribly sorry I haven't developed cancer". You
know? I just feel I'm forgotten by them, you know? I
mean when I asked, I had to really get that on bended
knees, to find out what my t-cell count was this last
time.
Marcus
..the doctor I had in
Perth, like I ended up having quite a anger reaction
to him. 'Cause he was the one that gave me the KS
diagnosis and was treating me while I had the
myopathy and the sciatica and I don't think his level
of knowledge... really what I would have liked him to
have said to me was 'I don't know what is going on
with you [Marcus], there are lots of things
happening, maybe it could be something to do with
HIV. It seems like things are falling apart for you
physically'. But instead he was saying things like
'Oh, this isn't anything that serious'.
Many participants spoke
not only about their uncertainty as to what it meant to
get an AIDS-defining illness, but they spoke about this
illness experience in the context of their doctors not
being able to provide them with an understanding as to
what was going on.
Robert
I was really delirious
and really sick, and he [the doctor] had this very
annoying habit of walking into the room and standing
at the end of the bed and just going 'Tsk, tsk, tsk,
shocking, shocking' and leaving again, which doesn't
really instil confidence. They had no idea, and to
this day they still have no idea of what the
underlying infection was. It became a game of 'Let's
just try the different therapies for the major
opportunistic infections as they stood at that point
in time'.
Tony
They are constantly
telling us that there is no reason to be in pain
these days as there are drugs and stuff. Well it is
not really so true, because we are in pain, and
sometimes that pain is hard to define for doctors and
so forth. Some doctors are more in tune with you and
what is going on. We are not medical people, we find
it sometimes hard to explain where the pain is, or
what kind of pain there is. Over in the AIDS ward,
where I have been for instance, I find some of the
younger doctors not so in tune with the patients that
are there. Some of the professors, the specialists
are so very, very clever but aren't so clever in
their explanations to patients as to what's
wrong.
Diagnostic
Uncertainties
Patrick and Louis also
express the frustration and stresses that can be a part
of the diagnostic process:
You go to the doctor
and you say "I've got this, this and this",
and they say "Right, yeah, ok, well clearly
it'll be HIV related", and you think, "Yes,
and big deal, I know that", and often you're
left with no answers and you then have a choice of,
"Well, you could try this, you could try that,
no guarantee, may help, may not", and I think
that frustration, that limbo, of not having the
answers, is driving me mad. Sometimes I feel I'm just
going crazy with it - and so I get to this point
where I can't make a decision, it feels just too
hard, and I want someone to come in and say
"[Patrick], I'm taking over, and this is what
you have to do", and then I'll do it.
Louis
I was still getting
over coming out of pneumonia - I was confined to bed,
hooked up on intravenous drips, all of that carry-on,
so when they told me, I felt very much as though the
doctor was getting at me sort of thing. He'd done all
these tests for so long, and they'd come back
negative.. I think that part of that was anger and
resentment that they hadn't come up with a true
diagnosis earlier, and the new doctor that I was
being treated by. I had the hates for about 3 or 4
days.
Another participant
described his regular intense fevers that, although they
could not be diagnosed by specialist doctors, were
predictable and were able to be managed by this man and
his carers. The fevers were uncommon and were not on any
list of AIDS defining illnesses, so the participant was
learning to accept that they would continue to occur but
were unable to be diagnosed.
Gary
They can't [diagnose],
and the stupid part about it is - technically - I've
got a T-cell count of 60 at last count. My P24
antigen tests are coming back positive, I've had MRI
which indicated that - I mean they've done all those
tests, done the CAT scan and the MRI, and the MRI
indicated that I'm toxo-positive as well. And he'd
asked whether I'd had an AIDS-defining illness.
Oh really, because they
can't find a name for this sweating thing?
Yeah, and its
technically not an AIDS-defining illness, they've
never come across it before.
Despite the fact that Gary
technically did not have AIDS, he died shortly
after the interview.
One participant had seven
HIV tests that were all negative, but discovered that he
had PCP. This ended a long period of confusion where
standard HIV tests were inadequate to diagnose the
presence of HIV in his body. Through the two year period
of being treated for cancer, a connection was finally
made with HIV. Louis discusses the reluctance of the
treating doctor to fully develop this uncertain
scenario:
..he never educated me
as to any connection with HIV, because I now believe
that it's quite common that 99% of the people with
sarcoid that have died and in those today that are
white, it's HIV-related or AIDS-related. He made no
point of that to me, and I use the term 'educated'
because I believe that was his responsibility to tell
me what the connection was. I'm not a medical person
to draw the connection.
Conversely, another
participant describes the significance of being diagnosed
with an AIDS-defining illness by a specialist:
Marcus
I went to see the
specialist, the neurologist, and he said to me
"You have got neuropathy and myopathy" and
I knew that he was the absolute number one specialist
in the whole world, this is [name] who is a
neurologist, and I had been told already that
"Whatever [name] tells you, you can bet your
bottom dollar that it is an accurate diagnosis".
So more or less, when he said the words to me that:
"You have got neuropathy and myopathy", I
thought "This is it. I am
symptomatic".
Indeed, the presence of a
specialist or more generally, a specialist care team was
a vital factor for many of the participants.
Mick
I went over to Dr X as
a Fairfield [specialist infectious diseases hospital
in Melbourne] visiting doctor so I had him as my
hospital doctor and my GP which was a great
advantage. He understood my case you know
..regardless and uh that's not the case for a lot of
people and I think that duplication causes a lot of
problems.
Bill
...the crew at
Wattlebrae [specialist infectious diseases hospital
ward in Brisbane], they had registrars coming
through, so there have been several registrars that I
just got on super well with and they've been so, you
know, caring, they've followed everything up and it's
a close relationship. Person to person. Yeah, the
specialists up there are great but obviously they're
flat out busy.
Brian
Well, over the last
four years I've spent the majority of that time in
prison... once a month, a doctor from Fairfield would
attend to mainly check up on each and every HIV
positive person and to clear up any problems they may
have or any queries they have about their treatment.
When you're talking to the medical people that
work at Pentridge you feel that they are working for
the system. When a Fairfield doctor came over you
thought that he was independent from that and he was
there wholly and solely for your well being and for
your health, so that was good.
For Jacob and Kim,
frustrations have arisen from their hospital experiences
and particularly their perceptions of a lack of
consultation time:
Jacob
Certainly I asked them
questions and I guess one of the problems I find is
that they, doctors themselves, never have time to sit
down and talk to you. About things. You know they're
just too busy. You know you can't catch [Drs name 1]
or [Drs name 2] or that. You just can't sit down and
have a chin wag with them for half an hour or
something.
Kim
I get really pissed
off with the doctors here. I think you know, tell me
what's happening. Just explain to me what, you know,
what is actually wrong with me. I asked doctor {name}
what's happening with me and they just come in and
sort of, "Hi, how are you going?" and I say
"Good good, fine" and, that's it, really.
No sort of real in-depth stuff.
Others who had experienced
a long period of living well with HIV and a more gradual
onset of AIDS-related symptoms tended to be more
pragmatic and philosophical in their understanding of the
doctor-patient relationship.
Paul
If you take into
account that they [doctors] are learning as they go
and that can be a terrifically frustrating thing for
them.. umm, I think that it has been pretty good. I
think that there have been a few that have gone by
the wayside here in Sydney, but that doesn't matter,
they can go back to general practice and not be
overly concerned about HIV. I don't think their
technical expertise was questionable at all, it is
simply that they have got an exceptional load of
terminal cases, potentially terminal people
constantly sitting in their waiting room with no let
up in sight. It is a dreadful drain, and the ones
that survive tend not to be in for terribly long,
kind of after a few years there is a new face. Where
one time you would have a doctor for life....
Stewart
I've found the healing
or the treatment by doctor is a co-operative effort,
you've got to want to be helped and co-operate as
much as they want to do it to you, you know.
For virtually all the Transitions
participants, each of these friendships and relationships
altered significantly from living asymptomatically to
coping with illness. To understand more about the rich
tapestry of emotions accompanying AIDS, we turn now to
more individual responses to coping with AIDS from day to
day.
Endnotes
6. For more on this topic see
Rabkin, J.G.; Remein, R.; Katoff, L. & Williams,
J.B.W. (1993) 'Suicidality in AIDS Long-term Survivors:
What is the Evidence?', AIDS Care, 5:4, 401-411.
7. For further research in this
area, see Atkins & Amenta 1991; Brown &
Powell-Cope 1991.
8. Arguably the most prominent
contribution to the AIDS literature in this area is Walt
Odets (1995) In The Shadows of the Epidemic: Being
HIV-Negative in the Age of AIDS, Durham: Duke
University Press.

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