It took just a split second for me to catch HIV. one tiny accident at work was all that was needed for the infected blood to go into my hand, changing my life forever. It was January 2002, I was 54 and working as a nurse, specialising in taking blood, at a private hospital in Australia. That morning, I had to do a routine blood test on Alan, who was HIV positive and now extremely sick with a rare and virulent strain of the disease. I had taken blood from him many times and knew I’d have to use a big syringe as it was hard to find his veins.
“We’ll soon have this blood test done,” I said, drawing up a good sample. I noticedhow unwell he looked. As I went to put the syringe and needle in the disposal unit, I turned around quickly to make sure Alan was okay and, as I turned back, the syringe clipped the container, flipped around and the needle pierced the skin between my thumb and forefinger.
oy heart leaped into my mouth as I watched a tiny bead of Alan’s blood disappear into my body. Filled with dread, I frantically scrubbed my hands, trying not to alert Alan to what had happened. I knew he had enough to worry about. “okay, you can go now,” I said to Alan, desperately trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice.
once he left, the full impact of the accident hit me. I immediately told the hospital what had happened, and tests were organised. “Just to be on the safe side,” I was told. I also started taking a special antiviral drug that, if taken within 72 hours of exposure to HIV, has a success rate of 85%.
I rang my husband Jim from the hospital and told him what had happened. He was completely devastated. “oh my God, what’s going to happen? This is terrible!” he cried. “There’s no point in getting upset,” I said calmly. “It’s three months until my final results. Let’s get on with our lives.” oy first blood test came back negative but it was early days. Two weeks later, after more treatment with the antiviral drug, another HIV test came back negative. I allowed myself to feel hopeful. Then, two months after the accident, I got the flu and couldn’t shake it. In fact, it got worse and I thought it was lingering due to the strong drugs knocking my system. But Jim was worried and took me to the GP, who immediately sent me to hospital for tests.
The next morning, a specialist told me the terrible news – I had HIV. I felt numb with grief. How was I going to get through this nightmare? Two negative tests and now this. I was unlucky enough to be one of the few people that the anti-infection drug didn’t work on. I asked what was ahead for me and the doctor wasn’t hopeful. The strain of HIV I had contracted from Alan was very rare and aggressive, I was told. All the doctors could do was make my life comfortable with medication that I had to take for life and it was likely to be between six and 10 years before I became very sick. I don’t remember much about the days that followed the diagnosis. I was unwell from the treatment and also trying to come to terms with what I had learned.
I was able to go home two weeks later and get on with living as an HIV-positive woman. one of the hardest parts was seeing my children cope with knowing I was HIV positive. It’s a second marriage for both Jim and me. I have three grownup children, seven grandchildren and one great-grandson in Scotland, where I originally come from. Jim, who is from New Zealand, has three sons and four grandchildren here. Reunions with them are always very tearful.
In 2005, Jim (65) and I decided it was time to move back to New Zealand and get a lifestyle block for our retirement. It was something we had always hoped to do. My HIV status was not a problem as I already had citizenship. It was a good move for us both and we love our beautiful home in the little country town of oataura, near Gore.
I’m 61 now and can’t walk very far due to pain in my legs. I had always planned to be fit and active in my old age, but that’s not going to happen now. I am careful about infecting anyone else, including Jim. I’m also very open about my HIV status and I want to lift the stigma around it. I don’t feel ashamed of it and I believe that no matter how you catch HIV, you shouldn’t feel shame.
Recently I caught up with one of my old colleagues from the Australian hospital where I used to work who told me Alan had died three years ago. I never revealed to Alan that I had contracted HIV from his blood as I knew how upsetting it would have been for him. Since moving back to New Zealand, I have become very proactive in working with organisations to promote awareness of HIV. There seems to be growing complacency about it and that’s a huge concern because it’s still out there.
I work with Positive Women, a support organisation for women and families living with HIV and Aids in New Zealand. I’m also training to be a volunteer ambulance offi cer, after fi nding out that my HIV status doesn’t affect me doing that job, and I give talks to health staff about being safe around blood. I went to an Aids conference in Mexico, which was hugely inspiring as I got to meet other women living with HIV and hear their stories of courage.
It’s eight years since I caught HIV and I’m responding so well to the medication that old age will get me before Aids does. Although it affects my health, I refuse to let it stop me getting on with my life. Just because you have HIV, it doesn’t mean everything comes to an end. It certainly hasn’t for me.
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