HOW A FALSE HIV-POSITIVE TEST CHANGED MY LIFE FOR HOURS, BY DR.MOKAYA ONSASE

HOW A FALSE HIV-POSITIVE TEST CHANGED MY LIFE FOR HOURS.

Beneath the sky of twirling stars, on the night of the 3rd of October 2020, I saw a dream of fading scars, my eyes were open and gazing afar as I continued my normal routine at the neurosurgery critical care unit at kenyatta national hospital where I worked. 

The events of that night changed my life for hours, I spiraled from a well-adjusted, vibrant and jovial medical doctor into someone who was ready to take his own life over a disease he didn’t have. This is not meant to demean or make those suffering from HIV/AIDS less of humans, indeed the people living with HIV/AIDS rank among the strongest people I have come across. I was totally dazed and speechless. My experience of testing HIV positive when I actually never imagined to have the disease broke me down to tears ladies and gentlemen.

On the night of that Saturday at the heart of the cold night in my doctor's room, I opted to just do a random Oral HIV test, needless to say an event that turned out to spoil my night. I did the normal usual round on my patients and decided to walk into the room to confirm my status. I had made it a routine to do the test owing I at times came in contact with seroreactive patient's fluids. I had borrowed the kit from one of my friends Mr.Mosiria that fateful night as he dropped me at my workplace while heading home.

Ladies and gentlemen to my expectations, what I saw broke me down. The two lines meant that was the end of Dr.Mokaya, a man trusted by the society as a medic to harbour hope and bring encouragement was now the victim of circumstances. I slumped into the corridor of my room, alone and dejected. Where did I contract the virus from? I knew crying for this second could not make any sence. For once all the medical knowledge I spent 7 years to study was no more. I had temporarily forgotten everything, forgotten that I was a medic, forgotten that I was a man of ambitions, that I became a slave of my own trousers, that a doctor would choose to be this weak.

My sister, my closest confidant is the first person I got courage to text and informed her of my status. She calmly assured me that false positives are common and everything was going to be ok. I knew at this moment I had been surviving on a few empty breaths and futile hopes, my only option was to wait for my lovely unplanned death to embrace me in her loving arms. But wait, how could a doctor trained to spell hope and encouragement decide to behave in such a reckless manner and have such thoughts, how could a doctor who society invested alot to save lives behave in such a manner? I said for once the medicine in me disappeared for sure. This was darkness that showed up uninvited.

Imagine, spending all your life taking care not to contract the disease despite my profession, only to see two lines. Imagine staying a virgin in your  entire primary school life only for it to weigh you down when you are starting to enjoy the fruits of your struggle?

Once again I decided to move the test kit closer to confirm my untimely fate, the test line still confirmed positive though looking faint and incomplete, the manual stated it was a positive result. Imagine how I felt. I felt the last ounce of my strength rotting away into pieces and taking a leave from my body, a body which was no more useful, a body that was trusted by the community to spell hope but became the victim, a body that walked vibrantly along the corridors of hospitals was slowly wearing down in mind. Is this real? I cried out but my heart was caged and hurting. The blood that traversed my veins was all going cold and blue, turning my heart into a Colosseum of hurt and my mind into an abandoned castle of dust.

I once again took another look at the test kit and looked around the cold room to ascertain I was not dreaming, it was positive. I recalled the words of my sister about a false positive test. My first move in making sure what my sister was saying was right, was going straight into my phone and search for “false-positive HIV test”. The energy to hold my handset was something close to feeble, I felt as if my hands were numb and not functional, where was my medical knowledge? Does it mean I had never heard of false positives?

As the ruins of Sahara, my throat had been slowly losing its moisture in this moment of my search, it became coarse and numb. "False-positives are incredibly rare; less than 1% of people test this way" my Google search read. An array of hope for once brought my lifeline back but what if I was actually HIV-positive? 

CONTACT TRACING 

The next events in the room focused on testing to find a potential source where I had contracted the virus from. I had pricked myself at times during procedures but then never contracted the disease, where did I contract the virus from? The last time I had taken a post exposure prophylaxis from the same dated back like 3 months, but I never bothered to go check the result again. I embarked on my normal activities as usual. That is not to say that I was not sexually active. That I would choose to use a condom in all my sexual encounters but contract the disease, that I would chose to abstain from sexual activities in my teen years only to be infected when I am a doctor and starting up life. That I would choose to regularly tell my friends to use protection in their sexual encounters only for me to be the victim. Who could have infected the vibrant Mokaya Onsase? Was the kit picked from my friend Mosiria a stage managed incidence? Or was it a wake up call for me to change my life and turn back to GOD? Or I was paying the ultimate price for the sins I had committed?

This was the beginning of an end, I stared at the walls in my room, crying as tears rolled down my rosy cheeks. But one wonders why would a doctor in his prime years portray HIV as a killer when he was supposed to handle it even better. Worse the events that fateful night erre unplanned for.

For the umpteenth time I decided to look at the kit, the line was getting clear and clear, my hurt was also getting more intense as I figured out my journey to start ARVs. But wait, how could a doctor forget that oral tests are never a confirmatory test? I said for once all the medicine in me disappeared, the only thing I knew at this moment was that my once vibrant life had taken a turn, a wake up call from GOD to reevaluate it once more before my sunset. Maybe I was paying for my sins. But why would a doctor portray HIV/AIDS as a sin, this was unacceptable and deemed a stigma. Forgive me for having such a thought because I was all numb and dumb at this moment.

I begun figuring out even where I was to go for the ARVs, how my funeral was to look like, how youths could form Whatsaap groups  to contribute towards my sending off, how my pictures would be flooded on social media announcing my untimely death and how people who knew me were eulogising me. I even imagined how people were going to make speeches at my sending off, how my close friends were going to say what a young and industrious man I was but the disease wore me down. At this point I wondered why would a doctor behave in such a manner to portray a death penalty for those who test positive. 

WHERE DID I CONTRACT THE VIRUS FROM?

I embarked on a intense and careful contact tracing on who I last kissed, where and when, how it happened,  who I last spent a night with, where my black worm last hunted, I even recalled my childhood friends who we once played common games. The big question still had no relieving answer, where did I contract the virus from. I brushed all the files of my patients since I begun working in the CCU, none indicated any traces of an RVD patient.

An eerie silence occupied my head as I whispered in silence as I counted all my encounters and contacts. I whispered to my conscience about the disconsolate skies with no hope, darkness blossomed in my mind, my knees had no more strength to stand up to go back to the CCU department to watch over my patients. As the life machines and ventilators made their ever present alarms, my mind had alarms of a wake up call to reevaluate my life. Maybe this was a wake up call as I said from GOD to remind me of my stray life. Mourning in stillness, I begun imagining how I would quite medicine and become a preacher and write motivation books, how I would buy suits and preach in churches about the coming of christ now that my life had taken a turn. That is not to say I never do that being a believer. Indeed it was a wake up call. I was at the cardia of accepting my fate. I even contemplated how I would handle this situation by changing my name to Reverend Onsase and denounce my nickname Benmoks. How I would change my tone of address to people who knew me. But then I imagined it was hard to pretend everything was ok. I realised people would suddenly realise something was wrong with me and would make an inquiry about the sudden change of things in my life. I lie lifeless and numb on the doctor's room bed, it is in the stillness of these nights in CCU that I found found solace and embraced darkness, solace in the infinite possibilities of life, but this was a long night for me.

Once again the kit lay just besides me, it was a positive test. I even begun googling how long it takes for one to die from HIV, how one can live a happy life with the virus. Imagine a doctor behaving in such a manner. Portraying the disease as deadly when advances have indicated men and women can live happily in the era of HIV/AIDS.

As the world and my fellow colleagues at work battled about the COVID19 pandemic, I was battling with trauma of a positive HIV test. I felt a pit in my gut, probably life was sucked out of me. The grave silence on my room was teeming with remorse, of words said and those unsaid. I was on my tears. How did I contract a virus I grew up taking care of myself against? I had no answer. A lump rose to my throat and the little energy in me swallowed it, pushing it into the emptiness of my gut. A gut filled with regrets and questions. I was hoping to fill any lacunae I had created by my own carelessness.

JOURNEY TO CONFIRM THE DIAGNOSIS

At 2:48am I decided to walk out of my room, lifeless my knees struggled to take me to my destination. A destination I even never knew where to go. I stood at the 4th floor of Kenyatta National Hospital near my department contemplating on my next move. Once again I looked at the kit to confirm if indeed it was a positive result, the result was unchanged. Every confirmation seemed to cause some seething pain in me. My life had taken another twist, a negative twist indeed. As the wind blew and the night sky looked as a glistening city, my mind was occupied with a dark cloud of confusion. 

I decided to walk downstairs and take another test, this time round I wanted the ELISA test on my blood, but the department was closed. Atleast an aunce of my medical knowledge was slowly sipping back into my empty brain. I was for once making a decision to confirm my result. I walked to the parking lot of the accident and emergency unit and sat dejected near the gate. Patients passing by for sure had noticed that something was not normal.

How could a doctor decide to go and sit near the gate dejected when he is supposed to be attending to patients? This was a crazy night for them, a night that also made them realise that even the strong cry. I had to pretend upon my horrific realisation that I could not pretend things were ok. Atleast they did not know what was going on.

EXPERIENCES FROM MY FRIENDS

I decided to contact a friend of mine who had once shared with me how she almost gave up in life when her oral rapid test turned positive. Indeed she shared the same experience as mine. She says she had to go for ELISA and the p24 marker test to be relieved off her anxiety.

The morning was first approaching, I had no energy  even to hand over my shift, I strolled into my doctors room changed into my social wear and the first person I called was Mr.Mosiria, I had called to inquire about his experience using the oral rapid test.

Mosiria narrated to me how he almost broke into a fight with his wife upon realising his test turned positive too. That of the wife also turned positive, only for them to turn negative upon confirmation.

Mosiria informed me that him and his wife decided to go for other self test oral kits but the result was unchanged. Were the kits faulty? But Mosiria had realised something wrong with my tone. "Are you ok mokaya?" He laughed as he inquired, imagine a close friend laughing at moments when you are so down. I had to be straight, I told him I had tested positive using the kits and instead of him symphatising with me, he broke into laughter and told me that I should never trust the kit unless I do a confirmatory test. But what if I was actually positive as it portrayed?

BREAKING THE NEWS TO MY FRIEND 

Amidst crushed emotions and minced desires, I sat along ngong road just outside the stage where I alighted for work. The vehicles passing by made no meaning, life had lost its meaning, in my mind, the buildings were all worthless, things that will one day come to an end. For me it was more of a nihilistic feeling. I lost hope I everything. I informed Mosiria I wanted a second confirmatory test before my fate was written dead and clear. Being a good friend of mine who we share alot, he offered to drive and pick me up. I sat near the road near Coptic hospital contemplating how lifeless things were and how my life had been wasted all along. I was speaking to myself   thank GOD I was wearing a mask, so no one could realise I was talking to myself. But why would a doctor decide to seat dejected and hopeless along the road? Once again I had given up.

Indeed it was an easy journey to delete myself than edit myself. How was I going to cope up with HIV/AIDS. Was I going to hold it as a secret close to my chest, with uttermost shame so that it was indeed difficult to breath? I had to man up and go for the confirmatory test. My ecstasy or whatever I was thinking was not going to end there under my insurmountable grief. 

After some few minutes mosiria arrived in his usual TX, the master of medicine had turned the victim. Imagine Mosiria now taking charge of everything at this moment. I had presented myself oh! poor me, I was helpless, hapless and had to present myself to Mr Mosiria, at his mercies and glorious melancholy.

We drove off, to a small hospital around and walked straight to the lab and asked the lab technician  if they had an ELISA test first before I go for the P24 markers. Mosiria had walked there first and told the lab technician I was called "James" for the purposes of confidentiality.  Imagine if he said this is Dr.Mokaya from KNH and he wants to take an HIV test and it turns out positive? 

Ladies and gentlemen I sat there waiting for doom, it was like life and death, the only other time I felt such nervous and anxious was while playing soccer penalties. I honestly turned to Mosiria hagged him on realising I was HIV/ negative. What was I going to give Mosiria, my own hands were empty, they had used all the space to hold people's precious nothings and promises. I fell into tears, indeed this was a wake up call from GOD about something. Maybe my life was a testimony of how longings can last for a lifetime. I looked around the room and straight into the nurses eyes to confirm it was not another nightmare but a reality. That indeed I was not on a fantasy world.

As for me I had not seen a life, I had not seen a future anymore, considering I had severally asked my crush for a marriage proposal but she kept turning it down. Indeed I was a collection of breaths of slavery and butchered desires, desires that made me to become a slave of my trousers, a slave of my personality. What if it turned positive again? Was I going to receive love again? Was she going to accept me anymore?  I was not satisfied about the ELISA test, I wanted more.

DOCTORS CONDUCT CONFIRMATORY TESTS

My knowledge in medicine was slowly creeping it's way back into by desperate brain. I informed Mosiria that three blood tests were to be conducted: the ELISA, the western blot, and the PCR or viral load measurement test. The ELISA, in short, is an inexpensive test that most people receive during standard STD testing in most hospitals in Kenya. I never had a prior experience of using the oral self test kit. This is the one I tested positive on. If you are HIV positive, the body creates antibodies to combat the HIV virus, and the ELISA tests for the presence of only a few types of antibodies your immune system creates. When you receive your result, you simply receive a positive or negative reading. The western blot, which I tested negative on, is essentially a more extensive version of the ELISA, testing for more antibodies. But as this test is more expensive, it is only used when the ELISA comes back positive to confirm or negate the reading. The last test, the PCR, essentially tests for the actual presence of the virus itself and tallies the quantity of the virus in the body. Like the western blot, it is a follow-up to a positive ELISA, and is also used to determine the progression of the virus in patients who are already positive. I had to wait for some hours before this test was out. Still dejected and desperate I was not satisfied of my status until this final test came out. I received a negative on this test as well. I once again broke into tears, in my pocket I held the positive oral self test kit with the two monster lines. I showed it to the nurse who was present as I slowly walked out thanking GOD for giving me a wake up call. 

All along I kept contemplating what if it turned I was indeed positive,  what was i going to tell my cousing Lillian who I was expecting to receive at the airport that night from her trip from Las Vegas. How was I going to break the news to Lillian my cousin?

A RAY OF HOPE

Mosiria held my hand and told me I was more than a disease I thought I had but in reality I didnt, he assured me of how I was an energetic and amazing being to him, for once life was slowly having its way in me. I felt like someone was there for me. 

Indeed amidst the ocean of somber symphony, Mosiria and my sister Dr.mokaya Eunice stood as my only island of ebullient melody.  In a life inside of hours typified with emerald shades of sadness and valleys full of sorrow, I had found a haven in them.

HIV/AIDS VICTIMS ARE THE STRONGEST 

This was an ordeal in my life, it thought me alot. That indeed people suffering from HIV/AIDS are the strongest people on earth according to me. They go through alot from accepting the results to taking ARVs for a lifetime. It is not easy  I will forever owe alot of respect to those infected or affected by the disease. Imagine just in hours it lacerated my ego and changed my personality, what of those who really live with it? We owe them alot of respect. I have made amnesia my friend, simply to erase this memories to save me from hurting myself any time I look at that oral test kit, it reminds me of a wake call from GOD to reevaluate my life.

Indeed I had severed my roots, even though I knew it was something fatal I kept doing, indeed this burning desire to plant myself on every soul I admired, was almost turning me into smoke, thanks to the wake up call.