I always have the habit of doing things impulsively without much forethought.
Last Friday I drove past a BP Laboratory
when I decided to drive in and fill up my petrol tank when I remembered a thought-provoking entry I read on sixthseal.com. Guide to HIV Testing in Malaysia is a down-to-earth blog entry focusing on the importance of HIV Testing from a youth’s point of view, as opposed to mother-like annoying reading materials from both government and non-government organization.
This is the same entry than earned the blogger HB an award by the Malaysian AIDS Council for creating HIV awareness in the country. An unsolved mystery remains till today as to why our traditionally conservative leaders (including Badawi, Mahathir and his daughter Marina) so happily presented the award to HB, whilst conveniently overlooking the fact that the said article as well as the rest of the blog included references to the blogger’s “ALLEGED” pharmaceutical + illicit + recreational drug use. Hmmm…
Like most people my age, I grew up overloaded with HIV/AIDS information. I know what they’re trying to achieve when they said they wanted to create awareness, but somehow listening to them constantly bombarding us with HIV awareness messages like that since PRIMARY SCHOOL kinda numbed its effect on me when I grow older and am actually ready for a sex life (not that I have any now anyway). I understand there’s a need for HIV awareness, but for fuck’s sake primary schools are not the place for it!
Once I heard an enthusiastic anti-HIV campaigner/auntie on the radio. Interestingly, the radio DJ’s name is Rose, but the aunty kept calling her Roast. I thought why anyone would be so stupid as to name themselves Roast, until the DJ signed off by saying with a hint of sarcasm “This is ROSALIND. Thanks for joining us.”
The anti-HIV auntie lamented the fact that when she gave out pamphlets to people in shopping malls, people threw them in the bin instead of reading it. Well of course they threw it in the bin! Its always the same textbook shit: use condoms lah, don’t share needles lah, don’t sleep around lah. We’ve all heard it a thousand time before and we don’t need to hear it again. Besides most people like myself always bear that “Its never gonna happen to me” attitude.
Its only after reading the aforementioned blog and watching a Japanese mini-series about AIDS (starring Kyoko Fukada and Takeshi Kanena) that I changed my attitude and realize “Shit, this HIV thing is risky business!”
Anyway I impulsively made a U-turn and proceeded right into the clinic asking for a HIV test. The lady at the counter gave me a form to fill out and asked for my identity card. Now here’s where I chose NOT to give out my personal information because if, IF I’m HIV-positive, my personal information will be entered into the government registry and I would be placed under constant scrutiny. Who know they might even cast me away on an isolated island with other AIDS sufferers to avoid infecting others.
I’m pretty confident I’m HIV-negative but I still asked to be anonymous so I wrote my name as ‘Kent’ (in case I forgot what I’m supposed to be called) I gave the form back to her along with the RM25 fee, and that was that.
The last blood test I took was eight years ago as part of my application for Australian permanent residency. Despite my enormous balls, I’m still chickenshit when it comes to needles. When I was younger I hated it when my mother tried to coax me into allowing the nurse to stick a needle into me by saying “don’t worry it won’t hurt” or “its only gonna hurt just a little” because GODAMMIT IT HURTS LIKE HELL ALRIGHT!?
Well the blood test was SOP. I felt stupid placing my arm on the padding because I actually paid RM25 to sit through this. Obviously I didn’t take any photos of the nurse drawing blood out of my veins because
I was shaking with fear and I didn’t dare to look at the shiny needle piercing into me uhhh… the camera battery died on me.
This is not related but there’s one incident back in Perth that still scares the living shit out of me when I think about it.
There’s one sunny afternoon when Nicole and I were walking towards Hay St Mall minding our own business when we were approached by a stranger asking for money. I don’t remember much about him but he was short, slim, droopy-eyed, olive-skinned and sported some curly locks. Come to think about it he kinda look like MotoGP racer Valentino Rossi.
People who’ve been to Perth would know that there’s ALWAYS people asking you for money. My policy is not to give any money to random beggars off the streets because when you have your arms and legs attached I don’t see why you can’t get a job. Instead of someone wandering the streets asking me “Brudda… can I get dolla?”, I’d rather give my money to those buskers in the city because at least they provide me with crappy entertainment.
So I effectively told the stranger “No I don’t wanna give you any money”, which angered him. At that point he pulled out a syringe from his pocket, removed its orange cap to expose the needle and held it above his head repeatedly screaming “DO YOU WANT AIDS?! DO YOU WANT AIDS!? I’LL GIVE YOU AIDS!!” maniacally. Remember this all happened in matter for few seconds in broad daylight with busy shoppers walking around. I was terrified.
I wished I could say I turned into Jacky Chan, gave him some vicious karate chops and ripped a new asshole for him so when he shits it comes out of both holes. But I didn’t.
Instead I was busy
wetting my pants handing him money from my wallet because I didn’t want Nicole or I to get into trouble. He demanded AUD$50 but I think I gave him a grand total of AUD$3 which was all the coins I had at the time.
Sorry I digressed.
Anyway, just earlier today I went to BP Labs and picked up my results.
That’s right. Kent err… Kenny is tested free from HIV. That means I’m a certified walking STUD and not a certified walking STD.
Please send all requests to have unprotected sex with me to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Just kidding, of course.
If your name is Nicole and you hate me, you may send a powderful computer virus to email@example.com.