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THE KEEPER
OF THE ZOO
Bradford McIntyre Positively Positive Living with HIV/AIDS

THE KEEPER
OF
THE Z00

NOTES ON A JOURNEY

by Cecil Wallace


November 1993



FRIENDS ON THE ISLAND

While I was spending my last week with my sister, I was able to get together with some fellow patrons of AIDS P.E.I. These people shared in my walk against and good fight with AIDS. I met some wonderful people and we shared our pain and how we were doing. Most of them had not been sick yet. It was clear to me that they were all scared yet they had never experienced the full impact of the pain of AIDS. There was one fellow named Mark, who was in the same boat as I. The rest of the guys were all going out that night so the meeting was coming to an end. They were going to party and wanted me to come along. I explained that I did not drink anymore and I was going home to rest.

After the others left, Mark and I sat and talked for hours. Our bond was real and our fears were the same. He showed me some information that he had just received from AIDS Vancouver. They had not yet discovered this thing called MAC that was killing AIDS patients. Mark had MAC. As he described the symptoms and pain he had, it was clear to me that I was feeling that way lately. My heart skipped a beat and I thought I was going to stop breathing. This must be what I have now. It makes sense. I have all the symptoms associated with MAC.

Mark and I ended our night sitting out on the AIDS Committee’s steps watching falling meteors. We had formed a strong bond and it was clear that a friendship was developing. It was good to feel Mark’s strength and not give up. He told me that he planned to fight it with every gram of strength he had in his body. We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Our spirits would meet again and we felt peace knowing we were on the same walk of life.

I was reaching the end of my stay on Prince Edward Island. It was time to go back to Ontario. I was looking forward to seeing my friends in Guelph. I had a great visit and made many memories that I would keep forever. We went to the airport and got Paula on her plane. She left the day before I was leaving from Halifax. My sister and I drove to Halifax, where I would fly out.

It was hard to leave the Island, the cradle in the gulf. I would miss the ocean and the power it gave me. It was time to return to Guelph. My sister, Stella and I said our goodbyes and I left. I was not feeling well at all. All I wanted to do was get on the plane and rest. I was so sick. It would be good to get to Guelph and see my doctors. Just as I sat down in my seat on the plane, I had an anxiety attack. Oh no! What was I to do? There was a man sitting three seats behind me and I was sure he was following me. I wanted to jump out of the plane. I took one of my pills and rested. The anxiety went away and I felt much better. It was becoming very clear that I had to get these anxiety attacks under control.

BACK IN ONTARIO

When my flight landed in Toronto, my dear friends, Scott and Max were there to greet me. My anxiety level was high because I was in a large crowd and all I wanted was to get out of the airport. The stairs were my only quick exit as people were lined up for the elevators. I hardly made it up all the stairs to the car in the parking lot. My legs were so weak and the pain was so sharp, strong and real to me. It must be this thing called MAC. I felt good knowing I would be back in Guelph soon, where I could get better medical care.

As soon as I arrived at my townhouse, I called the girls at Dr. Little’s office. Chris said to just come in right away and she would get me in to see the doctor. I was weak and so scared that my legs were hardly strong enough to carry me there. Dr. Anne-Marie was on leave and Dr. Little was her replacement. We had developed a great friendship and it would be good to be in her care again.

I went in and Chris let me see her immediately. Dr. Little was shocked to see how much I had failed and how small my legs had become. She took action right away. I told her what I had heard about MAC and she was thinking the same thing. We learned more about MAC and how it can be treated.

I made an appointment with Dr. Maurice Genereux and Scott took me to see him. Dr. Genereux took one look at me and the words MAC came out of his mouth. He examined me and did my blood work. This was not good news I was hearing. This would be the final fight of my life. I did feel ready to give it everything I had and Dr. Genereux assured me he would do everything he could to help me.

MAC was my first opportunistic infection. It was caused by two similar types of bacteria called Mycobacterium Avium and Mycobacterium Intracellular. This was the primary cause of death in AIDS sufferers. Great, make my day! I wanted to die because I was not sure I would have enough fight left in me to fight this thing called MAC. It was apparent that I would fail at a faster rate than I had before. I had wanted to hear that I had just a simple flu—not MAC. Dr. Genereux called Dr. Little and things started to happen. He explained to Dr. Little that we did not have time to fool around with Cecil’s treatments. The test results that were needed would take six weeks for analysis and we did not have time to wait for them. It was important to start treatment right away.

I left Dr. Genereux’s office feeling scared, numb and in a daze. Scott and Rick were there for me and I drew strength from them and we drove back to Guelph. The drive seemed long and there was not much said. Wow! This had been a hell of a day. It would be interesting to see what tomorrow would bring.




...positive attitudes are not simply 'moods'

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