
Last week as I attended Northern Pride in Newcastle Upon Tyne, after the parade in the blazing sun I took a walk round Exhibition Park to have a look at the many stalls that were handing out information on advocacy services, advice for same-sex couples and safer sex packs.
As I headed towards the ice cream van I was handed a leaflet for free HIV and STI screening at the men's health tent. I thought I should go along and get myself checked out for the sake of my own health. I had put getting a test off for a while as I have been in a relationship for nearly two years and didn't see the need to have one, but having worked with the HIV Centre and the Rainbow Project I know from experience that it is always better to know than not know. With 2 people diagnosed every week with HIV in Northern Ireland, sexual health is not something to be ignored or ill-informed about.
The staff were friendly, helpful and besides the little sting of the needle, the process was relatively painless and quick. I was tested for HIV/AIDS, Hepatitis and other major sexually transmitted infections as is normal practice. "7 to 10 days" I was told would be the maximum amount of time to wait before I would receive my results via text message. Time went on and I flew home to Belfast after a brilliant weekend, forgetting all about the test.
Today, however, I received a text message from the sexual health centre telling me to "Call immediately to discuss" my results. At 9am in the morning this is the last kind of text you want to receive, and my heart immediately began thumping like a jack-hammer. My thoughts turned to the worst imaginable, I had been so careful and I had been sure that I was fine, and here I am panicking.
I called the number and I go straight into a hold queue, waiting for around 20 minutes while listening to the dulcet tones of some keyboard cover version of classical music, constantly being reminded that they were experiencing a 'high volume of calls' and that I my call was important to them. Never mind them! This call was important to me! Finally I got through to someone, a lady with a strong Geordie accent who asked me for my name, date of birth and my address. This is where it gets interesting.
"Okay, so there's no need to panic..." she said with a sharp intake of breath, "I have your results here and you were clear for Hepatitis B and C..." there was a long pause and my heart began racing again, "But...you were also tested for HIV and I have the results here..."
My mind was in overdrive at this point. How would I tell my partner? How would my family react? What would I do next? Finally she spoke after rustling around with papers in the background and said: "Your test results were all clear but you need to get vaccinated against Hepatitis B." She said it so quick that I had to think about it for a second before I realised what she had said.
"So I don't have HIV?" I asked,
"No, you're all clear. We dealt with everyone who was positive yesterday." she replied.
With that I said my goodbyes and thanks and ended the call. So I was right about my health and I don't have HIV/AIDS, absolutely brilliant news, but something didn't sit right with me. For starters the manner in which I was told was inexcusable, if they already knew I was fine could they not have said that in the text message? Why did the worker on the other end of the phone feel the need to tell me 'not to panic?' which by the way is a sure fire way to make someone panic. What struck me as crazy was that she had said they had spoken to people who were positive the day before. Which means that young men had actually tested positive for HIV...in 2012...in the UK.

The thought stuck with me for a while this morning. After listening to
Scott De Buitleir's show last night on the stigma surrounding HIV in Ireland, I couldn't help but think that all those would-be thoughts that had went through my mind as I was awaiting my results were now going through the minds of those men who had been given bad news. It is possible to live a full and healthy life with HIV, provided the right treatment is administered early enough you can enjoy life as you did before, but certain things are limited to a small degree. But the stigma is still there. Even as I thought about what would happen if I was given bad news I realised that the stigma is also alive and well in my own mind, despite working in the sexual health sector myself.

Sexual health is no joke, and neither is the stigma surrounding it. It doesn't take a minute to get yourself checked out, and safe-sex packs and information are available from most GUM clinics and sexual-health centres such as
The Rainbow Project or the
HIV Support Centre. Stigma needs to be challenged wherever it raises its head, and there can be no room for taboo when talking about your health. Getting a sexual health screening is no more embarrassing and no less important than if you had went to the GP with a lump on your breast or testicle. More needs to be done within local communities to educate and understand the risks and responsibilities surrounding unsafe sex, sexually transmitted infections and the people that live with those conditions every single day. HIV is not just a 'gay disease' as it used to be known, nor is it the only thing that can be transmitted through unprotected sex.
Hepatitis B and C, syphilis, gonorrhoea and chlamydia are just a few of the most well known STIs that are prevalent amongst young adults engaging in unprotected sex with multiple partners. Only through encouraging schools, colleges and community organisations to promote the idea of safe sex, sexual health screening, contraception and the responsibilities that come with being sexually active can we end the stigma, the rising numbers of young people and adults with sexually transmitted diseases and of course save lives.
Fight the stigma, be safe, be responsible and spread the word.