A silent epidemic
By Taz McGillis
There are so many issues within the Aboriginal community and it becomes increasingly difficult to decide which issue needs to be brought forth for awareness and discussion.
My hope in writing this article is that people will realize that there is a silent epidemic sweeping our nations and unless we as a people address this issue nothing else will matter. I am not trying to create fear, but encourage responsible behaviour that results in positive change.
This issue was brought home to me many years ago and it has helped me to realize that I am responsible for my own well being with the choices I make in regard to personal relationships. To make this issue a little more real, let me share a true story…
It was spring of 1989 and I read a newspaper article that mentioned a new disease… a disease called HIV. It wasn’t a very big article and it was on the fourth page so I didn’t give it much thought. I do remember it described an auto immune disease… with words I didn’t understand at that time. The words were kind of meaningless to me, so I just filed the information away in my memory bank.
A few months went by and my brother Leonard, who lived in Vancouver, came to Edmonton to visit with me and my family. He arrived early in the morning and we caught up on family news as we ate a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast. After breakfast while sipping on a cup of coffee, he said, “ I have something I need to talk to you about.”
I could feel the change in his mood and I sensed his reluctance to share his thoughts. He looked so sad and he appeared to be lost for words. So I waited patiently while he sorted out what he wanted to say.
After a few minutes of silence, I offered some reassurance by stating, “whatever it is you have to say, please just say it, I can see you are having a tough time telling me whatever it is you want me to know.”
His eyes filled with tears and I could see the tightening of his jaw. And then I said, “Whatever it is you have to say, just say it because now I am getting scared.”
He then asked me if I had ever heard about a disease called HIV. I told him that I had read an article a while back but I really didn’t know anything about it except that people die from it.
He looked at me and didn’t say a thing. His face spoke the words he couldn’t say. And my emotions reeled as the reality of what he was attempting to share seeped into my being. I can still remember thinking, “No, this is not happening, please God.”
I didn’t say anything to him and my heart ached as I watched the tears slide down his face. Holding back my own feelings, I looked at my brother, and realized that he was trying to tell me he was going to die.
No words can describe the silence as I waited for him to speak. After a few moments – what seemed like hours – I realized his fear was overwhelming him, so I took his hand and I held it. When I touched him, his tears turned to heart wrenching sobs, “Everyone is scared of catching this disease, everyone turns away. All my friends are dying from it. I am going to die.”
Pushing aside my own despair, I got up from my chair, walked over to him and held him close to me. I said, “You are my brother, whatever this disease is, you are not alone with it, I’m here and I always will be here for you. You need to know that I love you and I will take care of you if you need me to. My home is your home.”
I didn’t realize that back then, people out of
fear, were rejecting, attacking and abandoning people who were diagnosed with HIV.
My brother, Leonard Johnston died of HIV/Aids in May of 1994. I took care of him for 18 months before he died and I kept my promise of being there for him. He did not die alone as many people do who have HIV/AIDS. He was surrounded by many people who loved him and he left behind many memories that have taught me that life is precious and every moment counts.
What brought me strength throughout that time was the words of my mother, “Life can be painful, but pain can either teach you or pain can break you… the choice is yours.”
Walking through this journey with my brother also taught me that people in a vulnerable state need the continued support and protection of loving friends, family and community.
I was, also, taught as a child that Spirit tests our ability to be compassionate and we never know when we are being tested.
Over the years, I have watched as people treat those who are less fortunate as having less worth and I cringe. Because it is my belief that we will pay the price for any harm that we do intentionally. And as I was once told by a man who was 108 years old, “ The Spirit will balance out the harm we inflict on others. We will pay a price and if the payment is not completed before we die, our children, perhaps our grandchildren will pay the price of our wrongs.”
So that tells me that I need to be mindful that I treat people who are ill with compassion because that is another way of taking care of my children and grandchildren.
HIV/AIDS is not contracted through touching or hugging someone. Take the time to research how it is contracted because it is my understanding that the numbers of Aboriginal people infected with the HIV virus is continuing to grow and it is becoming a silent epidemic.
If you have never been tested, please make it a point of getting tested, especially if you have had several sexual partners, taking drugs intravenously or experienced a sexual assault. These types of activities increase the risks of infection.
With that, much prayer for those who live with HIV/AIDS, and many prayers that a cure will be found. Ekosi…