During these same years about 100 new viruses were discovered to cause human disease, including the human immunodeficiency virus. The most common signals of AIDS are Pneumocystis carinii pneumonia (PCP), a rare form of pneumonia, and Kaposi`s sarcoma (KS), a rare cancer. Over a prolonged period, the virus multiplies and destroys the human immune system, stripping the body as naked prey to a stunning variety of other opportunistic predators
–bacteria, cancers, fungi, infections, protozoa–and, in at least one-third of the cases, the saddest: inflammation of the brain and progressive, fatal dementia.
The sexual revolution is over.
Dr. Renslow Sherer, chief of the Cook County Hospital AIDS Service, says, ”These are hard times, and whether it`s a Saturday night or a Sunday morning, people can no longer avoid learning the facts about AIDS–and acting responsibly.” He adds: ”Think about this: Less than a generation after our
`sexual revolution,` we have added a new term to the language. That term is
`safe sex,` and it comes courtesy of AIDS. Whoever thought that these two words would ever have to be coupled–`Safe Sex`?”
His colleague Sonnenberg says, ”Right now, all we have to offer is caution, condoms and clean needles, but that`s enough to save hundreds and thousands of lives until the medical researchers can do the rest.”
Rapoza adds: ”For now, our best weapon is education. I often feel like Paul Revere trying to spread the alarm. This is a very, very tough virus, but we must muster the will to beat it.”
Increasingly, the experts are recommending one of the simplest forms of medical technology–the condom. Supposedly named after a court physician or courtier, a Dr. Condom or Col. Condom, who in 1660 invented the penile sheathing to help cut down the number of illegitimate children fathered by England`s Charles II (who, legend says, gratefully knighted its discoverer), this latex prophylactic can today save thousands of lives.
II. Living with AIDS
In the gay community, the fear and loathing about AIDS run high. Many of the PWAs, or persons with AIDS, who tell their stories in this report began by wanting to go public, to come out from under the shadows in which they have lived their lives and to publicly discuss their lifestyles. But within days after an interview there would be frantic phone calls, even registered letters, from both patients and relatives demanding anonymity. The PWAs are in a fearsome double bind: For years, they`ve hidden their sexual preferences and lifestyles, and now they`re being exposed in a way that threatens their jobs, their apartments, their relationships and their lives.
One PWA put it this way: ”What would my auto mechanic think? If he refuses to fix my car, then I can`t get to my AIDS clinic at Northwestern.”
Another: ”I wanted to do it, but I got to thinking that other people in my building might hassle the landlord and demand that their leases be broken.”
Jim de Lacerda, a nurse on the Cook County Hospital AIDS Service, says:
”It`s called `blaming the victim.` I get so upset when people on our hospital staff treat our AIDS patients badly. We see hospital graffiti that makes fun of them, and we see hospital staff treating them rudely. I confront (the staff members), and they usually get defensive. I think that most are just denying their own fear and guilt about sexual indiscretions. You know, heterosexuals are not perfect, either.
”People must understand that the gays and the junkies did not create this virus. And, compared to what San Francisco is doing for its PWAs, Chicago is still in the Dark Ages.”
The ”victims.” It`s a word they don`t like, because as persons with AIDS they are learning to live with the disease, not die from it. But it fits. Four PWAs, three gay males and a former user of IV drugs, agreed to talk
–anonymously–about their previous lifestyles. And a woman who was married to a bixesual who died of AIDS also agreed to tell her story–anonymously.
The three gay males were seen at random one morning in the Northwestern clinic where for the last three months they have been treated with the experimental drug AZT, azidothymidine, which is now licensed for clinical use and is believed to prolong survival by interfering with the way the AIDS virus reproduces itself. They discussed the way they have lived, their fight with AIDS and the hope offered by AZT, and their view of the epidemic.
Jim is 50 and works as an academic librarian. He is bearded and bespectacled and neatly dressed in a three-piece suit. His weight is 131 pounds, down from his normal 137 but up from the 123 to which he had fallen after a bout of severe diarrhea. He is scholarly and loquacious and is the proud caretaker of a voluminous library relating to gay history and the gay-rights movement. He explains: ”Gay activism actually started as a response to the Prussian penal code that inflicted severe penalties for homosexual behavior. Later, in England, gays were often called `Mollies` because they tended to hang out in the bohemian neighborhoods where the prostitutes, or Mollies, did their business. . . .”
He turns from this historical digression to the issue at hand.
”I`ve always been what is called a `vanilla` gay, which is to say pretty conservative. Chicago gays often refer to the rest of America as a bicoastal society, and we in Chicago thought that we were pretty insulated on our conservative Midwestern island from what was happening in California and New York. I can remember giving an interview in 1982 to a CBS reporter from Los Angeles to try to explain the anomaly of why Chicago gays were not coming down with AIDS in anywhere near the numbers being seen on the coasts. I talked about things like Midwest conservatism and so on and actually appeared almost smug about it all. To the degree AIDS was occurring in Chicago, it appeared to be among the `leather set,` the boys who played mean and tough, and that was never me. I recall saying to a friend, `AIDS appears to be driving through Chicago on a motorcycle.` I felt fairly safe.
”In 1984 a friend of mine persuaded me to enroll in the prospective study of gay men being conducted in collaboration between the Howard Brown Clinic and Northwestern (Phair`s MACS study). The idea was to track gay lifestyles and sexual practices and to see how they related to the development of AIDS. I didn`t see a real need for it, but I was persuaded that it was a way to get free health check-ups. In spring, 1984, my blood was drawn and frozen, but even after an antibody test for the virus became available, I chose not to be tested.
”My first real fear came in November, 1985, when I learned that a man with whom I had had sex the previous November was hospitalized with AIDS. I spent a sleepless night trying to reconstruct what might have happened that night. He was a younger man and appeared to have been attracted to me because I was a `Daddy` figure, an object or type rather than a person. This is fairly common among some gays, but I figured, `Oh, what the heck, why not?` I remember that when we left the bar and reached his apartment, I was struck with all these photos lining the wall and showing him dressed in leather and masks and so on. I thought, `Oh, brother, what have I gotten into?` but the rest of the evening was rather uneventful. Now, a year later, I was up all night, my heart racing, worrying about what we might have done. I recall that it was mostly give and take, give and take. For the next three or four days and nights I was a basket case, frantically trying to come to terms with the fact that I might be at serious risk. As always, I went home for Christmas, and I remember being almost maudlin around my parents, hugging them every time I saw them and thinking that this might be our last Christmas. My parents are fundamentalist Christians and have no idea of the way I am sexually.
”I was the person in our family to get off the farm and come to the city, and I`ve always known I was gay. I remember being 13 and going to the theater in Kansas City and having an older man sit next to me, spreading out his raincoat, and over the next hour or so proceeding to masturbate me. I thought: `Hey, I`m not the Lone Ranger. There are others like me out there.`
After he left, I remember going into the lobby and trying to find him. I wanted to do it again, but it was very crowded and there was no way. I didn`t think much about sex again until I got to college and I was seduced by an older man to whom I was introduced by a gay professor. We became lovers, and I was faithful to him, but I was to learn that he was a notorious playboy. About a year later I noticed these spots on my hands and feet–secondary syphilis. The doctor at the student health service said, `How did this happen?` and I began to concoct this wild story about meeting a woman at a bar and going off with her and so on, but I couldn`t carry through with the charade. I told him the truth. He said, `We can cure syphilis, but you`d better get psychiatric help or your life is not worth a dime.` Well, after he told me that I was a worthless piece of junk, I sought out the school`s psychiatrist. She was very kindly and understanding and completed an evaluation that said I was perfectly normal psychologically and emotionally. Anyway, I showed it to the doctor, and he wouldn`t have anything more to do with me.
”I continued on my way. During the 1970s and the sexual revolution there was a tremendous burgeoning of gay consciousness and gay sexuality, and gay bars sprang up all over the city. I`ve always been somewhat of a loner, but I guess I took advantage of the situation. For years, I was often on the prowl or on the phone, and I imagine that I`ve averaged about one different partner a week for years and years. They say that receptive rectal intercourse is the riskiest behavior, and I`ve done that. Yet, during those years, all I really came down with was a case of hepatitis and some intestinal infections.
”So here it is Christmas, 1985, and I`m scared to death. I couldn`t tell my parents, so I told some close friends back home who know I`m gay, and they told me that I was feeling sorry for myself, to buck up. It was good advice, and I put the fear out of my mind.
”By March, 1986, however, I was very fatigued and could hardly make it to work. I was coughing uncontrollably and loudly, and, finally, my friends called me aside to tell me how terrible I looked. They suggested I take some time off. Well, I went to the hospital and was diagnosed as having PCP, or AIDS. My doctor wouldn`t believe it. He said, `Everything in your chart looks fine . . .` but my worst fears had been realized. I took it pretty well, though, because the real fear had come the previous November when I realized that I might be at risk. I spent three weeks in the hospital to knock out the pneumonia.
