Gary, Indiana
Diagnosed in 1996

My name is Patrick Varnado and I’m from Gary, Indiana. I’m a 49-year young, black man and my HIV status is undetectable, thanks to god and to the drug regimen that I have been on for the past six years. In 1996, the medical staff at Pendleton Correctional Facility told me that I was HIV positive. Whoa! I did not know how to respond. I believe I was in shock for a moment. I left the prison hospital in a daze. The nurse told me that I would be set up with an appointment to speak with the doctor. That was twenty years ago…

I was born in 1966 in Magnolia, Mississippi but raised in Gary, Indiana. We lived in the Midtown area, about five blocks west of the steel mill. I saw a lot of crazy-ass shit in my childhood—both in our home and in the surrounding community. I saw my father’s heroin use (may he rest in peace), prostitutes outside our door, dead bodies blocking the sewers, constant violence, chronic poverty and police brutality. But I also saw beautiful Christmas holidays, joyful summers, lively parades down Broadway, a black mayor in a predominantly black city and government assistance.

Around my early teens, things began to slowly change. Drugs and violence took over the city. Gangs began taking over. Even though crack had not hit the Midwest yet, cocaine was eating away at the city’s fabric. I did not sell or use drugs (besides smoking pot). I loved to fight and have sex.

Eventually, my parents relocated the family to the Miller section of Gary—a mostly white section—in hopes of escaping the deterioration of the inner city. Unbeknownst to them, their oldest son had become part of the problem. This was in 1981; for four years I played a role in corrupting other youth. I was in a gang who committed robberies for four years. Then in 1984, people got killed during two of our robberies. Even though I didn’t pull the trigger, I didn’t bat an eye to stop it or think about the fact that someone’s family was being destroyed.

In 1985 my gang was caught. There were nine of us in all. Two of us were charged with two murders and two robberies; I was one of them. One robbery case was dropped. I eventually took a plea for an open sentence for the other charges. This meant that all my sentences would run concurrently. On September 23, 1985, I received 60 years for one murder, 60 years for the other murder and 50 years for the robbery, which meant 60 years total under the plea deal.

I am now eleven months away from completing that sentence. I should have been released last year because I reduced my sentence for graduating college, but I lost time credits for bad behavior early on in my sentence.

My sex life has been non-existent these past thirty years, four months and counting. I have kissed women on prison visits, fondled some pussy here and there, and had my penis stroked, but I have not had sexual intercourse since 1985. I could have had sex on several occasions, but I could not and would not put another person through what I have been through.

In 1988 and 1992, I got tattoos from a questionable character. That’s the only thing that comes to mind on how I could have been infected with HIV. I was not aware of the reality of HIV/AIDS back then.

In 1996, I started to get fatigued regularly, which was unusual for me; I have always been long winded. Then my lymph nodes got swollen twice and I remember hearing something about AIDS and lymph nodes, so I got tested. My world has not been the same since. I told myself I didn’t have HIV and denied it to those around me who became curious about the medications that I was taking.

Several years ago, my confusion and embarrassment about HIV almost cost me my life. From 2005 through 2008, I basically stopped taking the meds that kept me alive. I thought I could fight this battle with exercise and determination.

I eventually got extremely sick in 2009. The doctors tried to put me back on a drug regimen but it did not work. I was sent to Wishard Memorial Hospital in Indianapolis where a genotype analysis was done. I was placed on my present drug regimen, which I have taken religiously twice daily for the past six years. At the last several doctor visits, my virus has been undetectable. I thank god several times each day for being with me during my prison sentence and my battle with HIV. I know I am very fortunate to be sitting here now and telling you my story. I finally got up the nerve to tell my family because I thought I was going to die in 2009. Their love for me has not waivered and they continue to support me 101 percent.

I believe my silence stemmed from ignorance about not only HIV/AIDS but also anything this so-called advanced society does not understand. I am a black man, a convicted felon, an ex-gangbanger, a murderer (although I did not pull the trigger) and a person living with HIV. I thought by not disclosing my HIV status, I would give myself a better shot at survival.

Even though I am not completely comfortable sharing my story with strangers after reading two issues of POZ (and rereading them and rereading them), I now believe my story needs to be told…

I was touched and inspired by Julie Lewis’ story. I hope to someday to become a rung in the ladder of hope and change for countless others who have no voice.

I am due to be released in July 2016 though I might be released sooner through a work release program in six to nine months. I do not have anything of value except my word and my associate’s degree in general arts from Ball State University. I can use all the assistance I can get.

Thanks for reading. God bless you all. Continue the excellent work.