Not just a statistic.
Its easy for us to forget
I Held Him in My Arms and Wept
A year before his death, 17 year-old Atria weighs 7 stone (98 pounds). He has left his village. He is afraid and he is ashamed. He is embarrassed to be here. He is sweating, he fights. His hands tremble. His pulse is rapid. He tries to smile. His problems aren’t only the rashes and the intestinal worms. These are easily cleared up. But you can’t “clear up” anger and fear, or sleepless nights and panic attacks, or how long a few minutes can seem…or the sense of powerlessness watching your own body fall away, the humiliation of disintegration.
Some infections are harder to deal with: a mouth filled with ulcers, an inflamed penis. As the disease progresses so do the nausea, the backpain, the headaches. Muscle cramps always hurt, especially when one has very little muscle. Atria has severe diarrhea and the dull aches in his stomach become sharp pains. Despite our best efforts he becomes anemic. His sight fades, as well as his concentration. Atria has stinging burning pain from urinary tract infections, as his urinary tract is blood red and raw.
Moving his bowels has become a feared ordeal, as his anus has lost its muscular contractility and often gets infected. He has no buttocks, not really, just skin stretched over bone, sore to lie on. His joints are hypersensitive. Above all, Atria finds it difficult to breathe. His dreadful wheezing-gurgling prevents sleep and he moans a lot because the painkillers are useless.
Over the coming months Atria finds some support and friendship, some dignity and encouragement. He was a beautiful young man with stunning eyes. A proud, energetic guy, very popular and ambitious with a deadly sense of fun. Now, most of all he hates that he leaks and drips, smells bad, and often cannot control his bowel movements or urination. He gets angry at himself. He is weak and dizzy and has constant headaches. He cannot eat easily and his ability to digest is deteriorating, as his enzymes are breaking down. The slightest knock causes a painful bruise. Atria is now 6 stone (84 pounds). After another few weeks, the boy is drained; his mouth full of thrush, a thick, white fungus over his tongue and gums – and ulcers – he has difficulty swallowing. Breathing is increasingly labored. By now, pneumonia is taking over.
All movement is acutely painful and distressing. Intestinal worms are back again. Atria’s limbs are stiffening and his back is covered with ulcers that leak and bleed but do not heal, impossible to manage in a small hut. His issues are controlling pain, managing extreme distress, reducing humiliation, creating dignity, reducing multiple infections, reducing cross-infection to others. But the worst thing is loneliness. To die of AIDS in Africa is an intensely humiliating ordeal, slow . . . obscene. Atria is now in his last days of life. His tear ducts have dried up, his hair has fallen out, his bones are brittle. He has no muscle or fat and his heart is 70% weaker than pre-HIV. He has been eaten alive and he has no resistance. All of Atria’s senses are shutting down.
His fingernails and toenails have fallen out. His skin is blistered and scaly, and scabs cannot form. The bedsores and ulcers have spread, sources of multiple deep infections. Breathing is almost impossible and the slightest movement is slow and full of dreadful anxiety. I give him water drop by drop through a straw. I hold his frail, stiffened hand. He is cold, he has no tears. I look into his eyes. I whisper to him, and kiss him. He slowly inhales, half closes his eyes. He breathes out, very slowly.
Atria’s face relaxes, his tormented body sags. He is gone.
I held him in my arms and wept.
I cannot describe the fear and emptiness watching such disintegration. As I write this, the images that flash across my mind are not the data, the plan, the project, but the faces, the faces of those who have had no one else to love them . . . nowhere else to go – dumped, neglected, unwanted. I feel so inadequate, so useless and unworthy, flawed and pathetic, so utterly overwhelmed. I want to be somewhere else. I am not able for all of this. The horror of the holocaust revolts me. I have sights so unspeakable in my mind. What has humanity done? Why do we allow people to die this way? What manner of beast are we?
In my aloneness, in my fear, in my pathetic inadequacy, in my own humanity, despite myself, I fall before the feet of God and cry: Why? Yet in the end, I find the only thing that matters is to do the best I can.
I leap into the darkness and find myself in a sweltering, disease-ridden place, full of flies and gross smells – and a child is crying. I reach out to gently grasp his small, withered hand, too weak to tremble. I am here. I am here.
World AIDS Day December 1st 2011
This is a day we remember the terrible epidemic that has caused so much suffering around the World. It a day that hopes to increase awareness about AIDS and remind people of the tragic loss caused by this horrific pandemic. As usual those who suffer most are the poorest of the poor.
Africa has over two thirds of the Worlds HIV and AIDS victims and most of the deaths with over 22 million suffering. They have the fastest spread of the epidemic and few resources to fight the scale of the suffering.
Kenya has one of the world’s worst AIDS epidemics. Over 1.5 million people are living with HIV in Kenya ; over 1.2 million children have been orphaned by AIDS; and in 2009 80,000 people died from AIDS-related illnesses across the country. This compares to the UK with 90,000 cases.
Kenya’s HIV numbers peaked in 2000 and, according to the latest figures, has dramatically reduced to around 6.3 percent. This decline is partially due to an increase in education and awareness, and high death rates. Its also due to aggressive prevention programmes. ICROSS has been fighting AIDS in Kenya since 1987. There is a lot more to do as many people are still vulnerable. ICROSS has a range of programmes including prevention and awareness.
Just under half of adults who need treatment and only 1 in 3 children needing treatment are receiving it. There are huge strides that have been made and the epidemic is slowing down, but there are still millions who desperately need help and an opportunity to rebuild their lives. Prevention and creating awareness, providing condoms and encouraging safe sex is critical. ICROSS continues its efforts to fight AIDS.
There is a vast amount of work that ICROSS and its partners need to do. We need your help to do it.
ICROSS HIV and AIDS programmes have reached thousands of families over the last 20 years. Serving communities across Kenya , we have provided effective home care, AIDS orphan support, training, prevention, community services and care centres. ICROSS has an AIDS resource centre in Bondo in Western Kenya and has created support systems in villages in rural areas. We need your help and support to do more. There are videos on our HIV AIDS programmes on
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vA5gqmoysGg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vZoe0ZXqmw&feature=related
