There is something few of you will ever know, and I pray you never feel it yourself. It is when something about you so bothers another person, that when the look at you, they are afraid for their life.
There is a look of fear that I’ve inspired within others since I found out I had HepC. It’s not a pleasant look, and it’s nothing I can control. Some people have it, and others do not. The first time I really came across it was when I was a senior in high school. It was where I’d least expected, in a hospital room, a newer nurse drawing my blood, looked at me with fear in her eyes as she spoke as few words as possible.
I’ve rarely come across the look, and when I do, I explain and educate, but sometimes it is knowledge that’s the problem. At the end of the day, I pose a risk, by choosing to be near me, you risk exposure you otherwise would avoid. While I know, and live with the idea and fear that I may unknowingly infect someone else, albeit transference isn’t exactly easy, it hurts to be actively reminded of this fact.
While I’m aware it’s unintentional, and I know it’s not me they’re afraid of, but rather the virus and the danger it poses. At the end of the day, until I’m through this treatment, it’s a part of me. I take it personally, when I see that look in someone’s eyes, when I hear the ignorance and fear in their words.
I have many acquaintances, whom I’m sure would be good friends if not for the virus. But I’m glad the barrier exists, because at the end of the day I’m left with friends who care no matter the risks.
This post is in a way dedicated to my friends, without whom this treatment would be impossible. I long for the day I can have a drink with all of you, for all that it means.