Rockford, Illinois
Positive since 2001

I found out I was HIV positive in 2001 while in the Texas prison system. There was a tiny homosexual guy in our cell of eight people. He was HIV positive and he was a sniveling, little, weak drug addict who sold himself for drug money. We gave him hell. He looked like he would die at any minute. He shat himself in his bed and laid in it. He twitched, jerked and stuck his thumb in his butt while he slept. He was disgraceful but now I know he had dementia... I gave him more hell than anybody. I named him “disease-boy” and it stuck. Everybody gave him hell, all day every day. I’m sorry for that. I wish I could tell him I’m sorry again. Especially now that I have dealt with this for so many years and now that I know what it’s like to live with HIV.

When I was in prison, they tested everyone on intake. One day the guards came and called out about 50 people and told us to line up to go to medical. As we were in line, they said, “If I call your name, go stand on that wall over there.” They called name after name. Eventually only seven or eight of us remained in the line. The guard said, "If I called your name, then your AIDS test (he said ’AIDS’ not ’HIV’) came back negative.” Needless to say, everybody was looking at the seven or eight of us still in line. My ears were ringing. I had tunnel vision and the last thing on my mind was what other people were thinking. I was thinking, 
“disease-boy” was positive. He looked like those guys I used to see in the AIDS documentaries in the 80s; a frail dying man in a hospital bed, gasping for one last breath. That would be me.

There was no counseling. No information given. Just “you have AIDS, now go back to your cage.” I knew I would be in prison for at least five years and all I knew about AIDS was that people only lived for about five years. I thought I would never be free again. I would die in prison. Life was over. Everybody else knew too. Word went around. “Thugwood has AIDS—can you believe it?”

I got a lot of support from friends but nobody wanted to get too close; I felt isolated which was compounded by the fact that I thought I’d never see the free world again.

I was eventually transferred to the Mark Stiles Unit in Beaumont, Texas. It was known as the “AIDS” unit. Not everyone there had AIDS but it was hell. It was not good for me at all. But then I was sent to Coffield Unit. Coffield is one of the most notorious units in Texas; most people have life sentences and will never leave. But at least it wasn’t an AIDS unit.

By then I had been in prison for over a year and still thought I would die there. Not one medical professional told me otherwise although none of them confirmed my death sentence either; they all were indifferent. I was just a number at that point.

I went to my cell and kept my few belongings packed because I knew I’d have to fight to survive and would probably be sent to segregation so there was no need to unpack. I was wrong. I was sitting in my cage waiting to see whom my cellmate would be and what was going to happen next. I didn’t care anymore. My life was going to be short anyway—I was a lifer.

The doors rolled and in came my cellmate—a gay, black guy they called “Preacher.” He was slim but strong and wiry with eyebrows drawn with a permanent marker. The first thing he said was, “You must be positive because they don’t mix us here in Coffield.” He was happy to have me there because that meant his “boyfriend” could come visit and they could play it off like he belonged there since there were supposed to be two people in the cell.

We quickly became friends and worked out our cell schedule. I met his man “Sammy” and discovered that he and Preacher were on the weight-lifting team, which I also joined. Preacher was cool! We talked at night, each in our own bunk and he told me he had been in prison for 12 years already and would get out in three more.

Wait a minute...12 years? And he knew he was positive for two or three years before that? So that means he has lived with HIV for 15 years? Wow. My world changed instantly. I wasn’t going to die of AIDS in prison!

Suddenly I knew I was going to make it out but I also knew I’d have to make it on my own. I’d be alone for the rest of my life. No one would love me. So why even bother? I might as well go all the way and just explode onto society upon release. You see, I still thought I was a bad person. I wanted to “go hard” on the streets when I got out.

But while talking one night, the mail came and Preacher got this magazine wrapped in black plastic. It was POZ magazine. I’m breaking down in tears right now just remembering that moment. It was a turn-around moment. As it turns out, POZ sends their magazine free to inmates who are HIV positive. I read it. I saw all these stories about people who lived normal lives and had found love on POZ Personals. They fought like warriors and they survived. I subscribed to POZ and I started to see that there was a difference between HIV and AIDS. I saw that not only was I not going to die an “abnormal” death, but that I could turn my life around. I could make HIV a blessing instead of a curse. I could find a good woman. I could change. I could not only live but I could become successful. I could be a better person.

I had been a terrible man. I never raped anyone or killed anyone, but I did cause suffering and I did enable people to destroy their own lives and tear down their families by selling them drugs. I am so sorry. I never robbed anyone who was not “in the game” but I cannot and will not justify anything I did.

When I discovered I was HIV positive, I was faced with my own humanity, my own personal fears, my own mortality and my loneliness. I was forced to search myself and discover who I really am and who I really want to be. I thank god I have HIV. If it were not for HIV I would have died a violent, senseless death in prison or on the streets. If it were not for HIV, I would have continued to cause harm to myself and to society.

But Preacher gave me a copy of POZ that night. I found out something that all of the medical professionals had neglected to tell me: People don’t really have to die of AIDS anymore. I rejected the conspiracy theory that Magic Johnson was cured because he’s rich.

I was not on meds at that time because I figured I’d wait until my CD4 cell count got down under 200 before I started; then I’d make a comeback and buy some time. When I found out in 2001 that I was positive, my CD4s were around 500. In 2003, I started working out. By then my CD4s were around 350 and they jumped up to 600 or so within 90 days after working out and after finding hope through POZ magazine. The doctors said, “Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it!” Eventually they went back down to 350 and then went down to around 250 by the time I was released in 2006.

I went to a halfway house and discovered that Sammy, Preacher’s man, was there. Except that Sammy was now with a woman. There were like 12 to 20 women and about 160 men at the halfway house. If you had a woman you were a “baller” whether you had money or not. It was a status thing. Sammy was having sex with this negative woman and I doubt he told her he had a long-term relationship (10+ years) with a positive guy in prison. It was my first dilemma on the outside. He saw me come in and his eyes got big. He recognized me and said, “Don’t say anything.” Ok...I thought. But Preacher had plans! You two are supposed to get together next year when he gets out! Ugh. Not my problem.

I then found Hillcrest House, operated by AIDS Services of Dallas. I got a subsidized apartment of my own with a bed, a mini fridge, cable and a phone. I got on POZ Personals and I met someone in Houston. I now have a family, a woman, a career job and a life. I helped my stepdaughter with her homework. I drove her to her first job and taught her to drive. She just graduated from University of Texas at Arlington with a degree in Psychology and is going to grad school. I am so proud.

I became someone new. I became a happy, healthy, beautiful person because HIV saved my life.

Recently, I started practicing Qi-Gong. I started meds in 2007 when my CD4s finally went under 200. I never broke 350 after that until I started practicing Qi-Gong. Within 90 days my CD4s were over 750. My doctor wanted to know what I was doing. I told him I had started practicing Qi-Gong. Not obsessively. Mostly while sitting on the toilet since that’s about the only down time I have without interruption.

I’m now better than ever. I have life, a family, a home, my health and moderate prosperity, which will get better. I don’t hurt people anymore. I served my time, paid my dues and became a better man. All thanks to HIV. It can go away now but honestly, it doesn’t bother me. My life is so much better with HIV than it was without it. Thank you god for HIV. Thank you POZ magazine for being there in the dark times.

What three adjectives best describe you?
White, straight, intelligent

What is your greatest achievement?
Continuing my struggle with the human condition

What is your greatest regret?
I regret not taking the opportunities I had when I was young.

What keeps you up at night?
Family drama, poverty and lack of direction due to lack of control of my own life

If you could change one thing about living with HIV, what would it be?
Nothing! HIV saved me. It slowed me down and made me take life seriously.

What is the best advice you ever received?
Qi-Gong. Hands down, the practice of Qi-Gong was the best advice I ever received. I didn’t receive this advice directly. I was searching for something and I found it.

What person in the HIV/AIDS community do you most admire?
My woman, who raised six kids on minimum wage while trying to stay alive. She had no man to help her yet she made it somehow. She’s a warrior for real.

What drives you to do what you do?
I want others like me to realize that HIV may actually be a blessing, not a curse. It can make you “slow your roll” and get serious about life. Know yourself and grow into a warrior because we must fight.

What is your motto?
Any knowledge gained is good. Nothing which exists is useless.

If you had to evacuate your house immediately, what is the one thing you would grab on the way out?
I have a “go-bag” which is a backpack where crucial documents such as birth certificates, pay stubs, tax returns, passports, etc. are stored. It’s near a window in case I have to jump to get it.

If you could be any animal, what would you be? And why?
A crocodile, because they are at the top of the food chain with no enemies except man and other crocodiles