Privileged Gardener
By Deneen Robinson
A privilege is a right or advantage gained by birth, social position, position, effort or concession. It is an advantage or source of pleasure granted to a person. Privilege is never equated with HIV. I consider it a privilege to use my gifts to share information on HIV disease and be part of the solution, not the problem. My name is Deneen Robinson and my columns will offer a first-person perspective on HIV and the African American community. I have been living with HIV for 15 years. It has been a journey of ups and downs in which I am learning so much about myself. The most important lesson so far is that I am an overcomer. I have survived being homeless, a single parent, being lonely, sick, exhausted and afraid. I have survived all these things while learning how to live with HIV. When I found out that I was HIV-positive, I had just found my way back from a bad marriage and 65 days of homelessness in two cities. It was supposed to be an up time. I was returning to the University of Texas at Austin to finish my social work practicum. I had two small children, and I was suddenly ill. Instead of a classroom, I ended up in the hospital for about 30 days with strep pneumonia. I remember being so sick during this time and the hospital staff could not figure out why I was not getting better. They could not break my fever so they tested me for HIV as part of a protocol before moving on to other rare diseases. At the end of the 30 days, a series of test, lung surgery and several HIV tests, doctors confirmed my HIV positive status. I remember the doctors saying they were sorry about my having HIV. This was the early days of HIV treatment when risk assessments were taken. I was not in a risk group so initially they did not test me. When they finally had no other explanation for my continued illness, they tested me for HIV. We were all surprised when the test came back positive. “My babies! What is going to happen to my babies?” I remember asking how long I had to live. Finally, I remember resolving to “plant seeds so my daughters would remember me.” You see, they told me I had six years to live, based on the information they had at the time. That was Aug. 30, 1992. It is more than 15 years later and I am still here. I consider it a privilege to be able to educate my community on HIV disease. The information I have learned has been the difference in my being well and still here. I want to share what I have learned with you. The information provided in this column will serve to educate. It should not take the place of a conversation with your physician. Understand that educating oneself is a privilege that cannot be measured. Remember, we must plant seeds and nurture the ground so we can experience a harvest.