Getting Tested

I hate needles. I have said it before, and I can guarantee that I will say it again. If fact, I will right now. I HATE needles. I hate them with a passion. But there are some times when facing your fear is worth it, and getting tested is definitely one of them.

I had been tested before, twice in fact. The first time was in my first week of University - the Uni had an HIV awareness week, and a testing drive was being run. Even though I had no doubt about my negative status, I went for the test along with a number of my friends to support the process of testing. Though it was being done at a University, where the majority of students should have been aware of the importance of getting tested, rather than in one of the townships where the main problem arises due to lack of education, there were still students who didn't go, and going was still important. The second time I went was for a similar reason - joining a friend and her boyfriend who did not want to go through the process on their own. So Grant and I joined them.

After a year apart, Grant and I decided to do the responsible thing and get ourselves tested. Once again, I had no doubt about my status, and Grant had no doubt about his, but we just wanted to get tested and be completely sure rather than assume and find out later that it wasn't the case. And so, yesterday morning, we made the trip to the Family Planning Clinic.

For the women in Grahamstown who may not know what or where the Family Planning Clinic is, I don't blame you. I hadn't heard of it until I visited a Doctor a couple of months ago and, upon mentioning that I was on the injection, she let me know about the clinic, where I could get the injection for free rather than paying the R250 Doctor's fee. When she told me about the clinic, she mentioned that it had recently moved, but she wasn't sure where. She did mention Anglo African street, so when it came time to get my injection again, I made my way there, only to find a big fat nothing. I went to the pharmacy to ask about it, and they said that it was on Huntley street, just opposite Good Sheperd school. And so I went there, and walked up and down the street at least three times before I spotted a sign reading "Makana Public Health". Could this be it? Apparently.

The Family Planning Clinic provides a number of services including counselling, distribution of pills, education of the community and HIV testing. Unfortunately, they only do planned testing on Friday mornings between 8am and 10am. This means that, unless it is an emergency, you need to take time off work to go there. And you shouldn't expect it to be quick. On each occasion that I went there, I had to wait between 30 and 45 minutes to see the nurse. Even when there aren't people waiting, the nurses are not particularly organised and are running around like headless chickens. But considering that it is a free service and they are severely under staffed, that should be expected.

The actual testing process begins with counselling. This is because, by law, the nurses need to explain the process to you, need to explain what they are going to do now and what will happen if the test is positive. The first time I went for the test, the couselling was even more intense - they wanted to know how I would deal with it if I found out that I was positive, they wanted to know why I was getting tested, if I had ever done anything that could have led to contracting HIV. This time, since I told the nurse that I had done the test twice before, the inquisition was put aside and only the bare necessities were given - she knew that I understood what HIV was, how I could have gotten it and what I would have to go through if I had it. And so the test began.

The first two times that I had the test done, it was with a wonderful little device, rather like a stapler, that stabbed your finger and drew a small amount of blood. Not this time. This time there was a needle of supreme sharpness that the nurse used to slice my finger, issuing forth a rather large amount of blood. I am feeling a little woosey even thinking about it, I won't lie. After the blood had been drawn, I asked if I could lie on the bed, since I was feeling a little dizzy. The nurse wasn't convinced, but let me lie down anyway. After a few moments, she announced that the test was taking too long and she needed to do another. She brought me to the chair and opened my wound once again. Blood spurted out, going everywhere but on the test, and I started having a panic attack - could feel my limbs tingling and starting to go numb. I lay down once more and, after a moment, the nurse announced that the first test was in fact working. Ta-dah! I was negative.

I came out of the room to find Grant with a supremely worried look on his face - apparently the whole waiting room (of about 10 people) had heard me crying and announcing that I was likely to faint, and Grant had to hold himself back from coming into the room and comforting me because, of course, statuses are meant to be private, and only one person can be tested in the same room at the same time. I assured him that I was fine, took my seat and waited for his test to be done. Ta-dah! He was negative too.

For the rest of the day, I couldn't touch my finger. It ached and it throbbed and it just felt awful in general. I kept picturing blood spurting over my desk at work and everywhere else. Needless to say, I hope I never have to go through that again! And as long as Grant and I are together, now that we know our statuses, we shouldn't have to.

Having your status checked is one of the most important things you should do when starting a new relationship, or even if you aren't. Know your status. Know yourself! (Totally the new HIV testing catch-phrase!)