So, as the events and discussion around AIDS gradually dwindle...
even after World AIDS Day, there are still backwashes (or perhaps: backdrafts?) from all these memories and feelings.
Monday was the patient group discussion with graduate students in clinical psychology – which is always both easier and deeper than our more usual presentations for medical students: the psychologists pick up what we're feeling instantly, and we can go further – but that has its own demands....
M. and A. were there with me; both of them talked for longer than usual, driven by some wish to talk about things they hadn't said over the previous weeks, perhaps. M. especially, as he had been doing public discussions of HIV tests in schools, the conference, etc.: he told the story of the illnesses and death of his lover in the late 1990s – which I have actually never heard before: he always tells the story of his legal/public battle with the major retailer that fired him for being HIV+, but I'd never heard the part before it, which is where the real depths are.
It was... remarkable. I think he spoke for twenty-five minutes or more: full memory, no flinching, no fragmentation in storytelling – he was right there through the whole thing, and showed it to us with a simple, undemonstrative strength I didn't even know he had.
Then A. spoke about the various problems and ideas that have come up in the three years since her diagnosis – so many changes in direction, so much altered; it is still fresh for her, but she is present to it all. Some of this emotional solidity came from the subtle emotional resonance of twenty young psychologists, from our sense of their ability to stay with the difficult...
And afterwards, questions, discussion; and then, there wasn't much time left. We asked for just one more question, and one of the women said, What would you like to go back and tell your younger self to do differently?
M. and A. gave long answers about taking care of themselves, HIV testing, etc. My answer was crystal clear in my head – I wasn't quite sure it would make sense; I'd mentioned that I worked across the street, as a university professor, that I'd lived on four continents; but –
when they finally turned to me, I said: I wish I’d known it was more important to be with someone than to finish the dissertation.
Which was a simple, slightly deadly thing to say... there was nothing to say after that, either; just silence for a minute or two.
And we ended the session, thanking everyone for their time....
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