Important note: Information in this article was accurate in 2006. The state of the art may have changed since the publication date.
San Francisco Chronicle - September 28, 2006
Ragnar Carlson, rcarlson@sfchronicle.com
As the disease has spread into mainstream America, communities of resistance and support have sprung up across the country.
In 1987, though, Shawn Decker wasn't part of any community, and he didn't have much of an idea about resistance. Trapped in small-town Waynesboro, Va., Decker didn't have ACT UP. He just had HIV. Oh, and hepatitis C. And hemophilia.
In his humorous new memoir, "My Pet Virus," Decker, 30, "comes out" as a straight, white, small-town kid for whom the great epidemic of his time was his birthright, a kid who, when diagnosed with HIV, stood virtually no chance of living to graduate from high school.
Instead, he stumbled his way through school the way most of us did, and his death sentence kept getting stayed until, finally, it seemed to have been commuted.
A self-described "positoid thinblood" (Decker-ese for HIV-positive hemophiliac), Decker grew up far removed from the metropolitan meccas of the fight against AIDS. In Waynesboro, no one was talking much about HIV, least of all Decker, who wasn't talking about it at all. Decker worried less about surviving his multiple infections and more about surviving junior high. Of course, in the late 1980s, no one survived HIV anyway, but somehow Decker never quite got that message.
"My Pet Virus" is like any other coming-of-age memoir, except with more incurable diseases, less sentimentality and better jokes. And more personal appearances by professional wrestler Ric "Nature Boy" Flair and the members of Depeche Mode.
Decker, who now lives in Charlottesville, Va., and works as a columnist for POZ magazine, is a one-liner machine as he tries to determine whether his favorite band is (gasp!) gay, how to act when the Christmas presents start piling up after his hep C diagnosis and what Ryan White would think if Decker moved in on his Donahue racket.
"Granted, Ryan White wasn't the kind of guy to pummel a fellow thinblood into submission, but I wasn't the kind of kid who wanted to waste my breath on a bunch of morons who thought HIV could be transmitted through handshakes or wedgies."
The author reads at 6:30 tonight, Book Passage, 1 Ferry Plaza, San Francisco. (415) 835-1020.
060928
SC060904
Copyright © 2006 - San Francisco Chronicle Press. All rights reserved. Reproduced with permission. Reproduction of this article (other than one copy for personal reference) must be cleared through the San Francisco Chronicle, Permissions Desk, 901 Mission Street, San Franciso, CA 94103. You may also send a fax to (415) 495-3843, or an email message to chronperm@sfgate.com. http://www.sfgate.com.
AEGiS is a 501(c)3, not-for-profit, tax-exempt, educational corporation. AEGiS is made possible through unrestricted funding from Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS, Elton John AIDS Foundation, the National Library of Medicine, Pacific Life Foundation and donations from users like you.
Always watch for outdated information. This article first appeared in 2006. This material is designed to support, not replace, the relationship that exists between you and your doctor.
AEGiS presents published material, reprinted with permission and neither endorses nor opposes any material. All information contained on this website, including information relating to health conditions, products, and treatments, is for informational purposes only. It is often presented in summary or aggregate form. It is not meant to be a substitute for the advice provided by your own physician or other medical professionals. Always discuss treatment options with a doctor who specializes in treating HIV.
Copyright ©1980, 2006. AEGiS. All materials appearing on AEGiS are protected by copyright as a collective work or compilation under U.S. copyright and other laws and are the property of AEGiS, or the party credited as the provider of the content. .