Diagnosis Lockdown
SCENE: Lounge where the assault occurred
From the date of my assault (27 February 2020) and beyond the only pictures I took and saved were a few relating to my injuries which are too horrific and graphic to share. The date of my confirmed diagnosis was the day that the Coronavirus Act 2020 got royal assent. With the next day, 26 March 2020 being when I collected and started ART (antiretroviral therapy) which coincided with the national lockdown measures being legally enforced.
The national lockdown could not have come at a better time for me. It was an opportunity to reset and digest this life-changing event without, oddly, having to look out of my lounge window and see people going about their lives as normal. I did worry why I would have thoughts like this given I have never been a jealous individual. However, I set about like the nation trying to find things to do and keep myself sane.
SECURITY: Door jammer
I spent the first 3 days in my bedroom eating only ice cream and watching Judge Judy, Dinnerladies, Gimmie Gimmie GImmie and the Redbull Soapbox race. When I had done crying and feeling sorry for myself and the fact my kitchen was a shit tip with a pile of bowls and spoons I knew I just had to get on with life.
A long-awaited order arrived which was a door jammer for the door to my home. The door already had 4 locks (2 deadlocks, 1 yale lock, and 1 mortice lock) as the previous owner was deaf and I guess installed for her own peace of mind. I lived in the Crystal Palace heritage triangle so was amongst some affluent people. But I felt a door jammer would truly give me some sense of real security and once installed I was able to sleep through the entire night without waking up worried.
I had already started the process of a move but that could take some time yet.
MRS. B’
3 April 2020
Mrs B’ had lived below me for 37 years and we only knew each other to say a quick ‘hello’ to given we both had busy lives. She was very active in a social circle and I learned just how much once lockdown hit. And for me, I was always out early and home late with work.
As I had made several trips back and forth to the supermarket around the corner and Mrs B’ no doubt twitched behind her curtain I thought it would only be polite to ask if she needed anything while we were in lockdown.
This would have come naturally without hesitation but I really had to force myself to knock on her door. I think having had many older relatives and always being willing to listen to older people I have come across. I felt listening to someone else’s problems and ailments won’t necessarily take my mind off my diagnosis. And it was inevitable that Mrs B’ would want to list and share her ailments and complaints with me, after all, that’s what old people like to do.
I was too late, she had already posted a piece of paper through my letter box saying if there was anything I needed to give her a call on the number below. I telephoned, feeling as though I had been guilt-tripped into calling. I asked if she needed anything from the supermarket and she said she would make a list. Before she hung up the phone she listed two ailments. One she said she thought was Covid-19 although she didn’t have any of the then known symptoms, And she was not happy her doctor on the phone said it was probably a virus from being cooped up for a few days hence why she felt ‘run down’ as she described it.
And the second, wait for it, “my vagina”! I knew it, what did I just say? Well, she kept saying “I know you won’t want to hear about it, but I know you won’t mind” and by that, I assume she meant she knew and/or sensed I was a gay man. To which I replied “Yes Mrs. B’ I can’t say I am technically minded when it comes to vaginas and how they work. I can’t say seeing them floats my boat let alone hearing about them” which only encouraged her more.
As I set off for the supermarket I knocked on her door and thankfully she passed me her shopping list through the letterbox. I giggled wondering if she had perhaps realised she’d overshared but then soon wondered if it was a covid-19 precaution or if she was perhaps in the middle of getting dressed, to which I quickly changed my thoughts.
Having collected mine and Mrs. B’s shopping I placed it on her door step, knocked and took several steps back. After the countless sliding of door chains and the twisting of several locks she opened the door and was quite the sight. She had wrapped her head in a bath towel with only her eyes visible as she stood in her dressing gown and rubber gloves. I screamed “well if it isn’t Cynthia Payne” to which Mrs. B’ said, “who’s Sylvia Payne”?
Later that afternoon given we had by now exchanged telephone numbers, I received a call. “I have left you a little surprise on your doorstep,” Mrs. B’ said mischievously. I went down to the doorstep and she was nowhere to be seen, but for a wood crate on the floor. With such an act of kindness, I immediately filmed it on my phone as I revealed the surprise and posted it on TikTok. It went a little bit viral with over 10,000 likes within a couple of hours. I telephoned and having learned of her Irish sense of humour I said “thank you so much, what a thoughtful gesture. But, where’s the other half of the pie and pizza” to which she replied, “Will, stop, I will wet myself” (as she had already disclosed this had become an issue for her given her advancing years). And of course, as is English custom when you borrow something or receive such a gift, is to return it with the same. Within her shopping list she asked a few times for The Sun, newspaper so I bought her a copy the day I returned the gesture, although it was an issue for many TikTok users and resulted in some trolling.
What tickled me was at the end of the video which I cut short as she proceeded to tell me she was sneaking a family member into her home which was in breach of the law.
The Queen
5 April 2020
The first image that appears of me on my hard drive during lockdown and post HIV diagnosis was 5 April 2020. When Her Majesty The Queen made her address to the nation. I propped my phone up against the typewriter and hit record. I knew it would not only be monumental in decades to come to be able to show where I was when the Queen addressed the nation during this global pandemic. But I also knew it would be poignant now that I was living with HIV, another type of virus that had a pandemic all of its own.
While I was moved by her acknowledgment of the dedication of the NHS and the sacrifice of the nation whether it be through loss, lockdown or hardship. It did feel to me as though I was being comforted by the Gran I never got to meet (died 22 years before I was born) and while I wiped away a few tears I did feel spurred on to stay optimistic with my HIV diagnosis.
While her address was regarding Covid-19, of which was not even on my radar having just been diagnosed with HIV. I found the address a gentle reminder from Her Majesty of that ‘Keep Calm & Carry On’ spirit. That very British stiff upper lip while also recognising that while times may be hard, I [“we”] will succeed in living a normal life.
And while I had days earlier decided to end my 3 days processing my HIV diagnosis, the Queen made me feel as though I had and/or was going about it in the right way. I recall at the time of her address to the nation, how I felt encouraged and reassured by her words regardless of whether she wrote them or not. And what was bizarre was I felt more reassured by Her Majesty The Queen than I did the HIV nurse who was calling in to check on me. I understood the nurse was giving sound advice, however, it felt as though he was consulting a textbook as he kept telling me how I should/would feel in terms of facing my HIV diagnosis and how my feelings and emotions of taking a more pragmatic approach were not ‘the norm’. And during these conversations, I felt that perhaps lying and just telling him what he wanted to hear would be easier, but I had to be true to myself and shared my genuine thoughts and feelings.
I knew my own strength and always being pragmatic in dealing with difficult situations both in my work life and personal life. I did recognise that this HIV diagnosis was nothing like I had experienced before. And I shared I was not declaring I was over my HIV diagnosis, just that I knew I had to move on with life and even humorously declared I was bored of HIV already after 3 days. Although I realised I quickly had to stop making jokes, essentially stop having a sense of humour when speaking to the nurse as it perhaps seemed I was doing as most of us do, using humour to hide our true feelings. And all I heard from the nurse and other PLWHIV was ‘…it [HIV] will hit you further down the line, it will appear out of nowhere so you should deal with it now’. This reminded me of the scene from Jennifer Saunders sitcom ‘Jam & Jerusalem’ [video above] where someone grieving was told they need to follow the stages within the leaflet and was not permitted to skip any.
This got right on my tits although I am pleased to share in writing this blog, that 2 years and 6 months down the line this thunderbolt of HIV doom and misery has not yet hit and knowing me as I do, it won’t anytime soon, if at all. And while I truly appreciate the Queen addressing the nation was in relation to Covid-19 and not HIV, for me, her address spoke to me and my HIV without lecturing me as to how I should and would feel about living with HIV and this is something that will live with me for the rest of my life as sound advice.
Although it is interesting to note from the video of the Queen addressing the nation that I had not put back all the framed photos on the wall and sideboard. On returning home after being diagnosed I turned all the photographs face down as I could feel the eyes of family and ancestors looking on at me disapprovingly. I knew and said it at the time, that was a ridiculous notion, photos can not see, and shortly after The Queen’s address, I put framed photos back in their rightful place.
Easter 2020
11 April 2020
The next image was Saturday 11 April 2020 with Easter Sunday being on the 12th. I had for the first time bought myself an Easter Egg after queueing over an hour for my shopping at the supermarket. I also bought one for Mrs. B as over the many phone calls the last few days she said she was feeling down given she missed her friends and her Bingo. A friend who was checking in on me, aware of my diagnosis asked what I’d been up to and I snapped a selfie to share I was indulging in an Easter Egg.
On Easter Sunday I woke to find an envelope at the bottom of my door. I thought it unusual as we do not get post on a Sunday. It was a handwritten note from Mrs. B’ and a twenty-pound note.
“High [sic: Hi] William.
Happy Easter.
A big thank you for getting my shopping and looking after me you are so thoughtful I could not done without you so go and get yourself a TREAT from me. Thank you for my Easter Egg. You are my rock. Love and Best Wishes. B xx!.
I telephoned and thanked Mrs. B’ for the kind note and the enclosed twenty-pounds and said it was far too generous, which it was. Mrs. B’ had given me a little purse with some money in it for her shopping and I kept the receipts which was a burden as I initially insisted her shopping wouldn’t break the bank. But knowing my elders, they like to pay their own way otherwise they fret so I went along with it. Although I felt a little naughty putting the £20 she enclosed with her note back into her purse for her shopping fund. She was surprised a few shops later when I shared her balance was still in credit when she wanted to add money to her fund, but I don’t think she suspected, I was just happy to help.
Crafty Bitch
May - June 2020
I guess like most of the nation, I now had way too much time on my hands and was starting to go stir-crazy! Given my HIV diagnosis, I wanted to start getting into shape again and I searched high and low for some gym equipment, and everywhere was ‘out of stock’. I was taking several walks a day to Crystal Palace park which was literally less than a minute’s walk from my home, but that soon became boring. And the daily trip to the supermarket to fight over essentials as shelves laid bare having been stripped was no longer amusing nor stimulating. I also needed a break from Mrs. B’ who was now calling daily and spending a good hour on the phone telling me which neighbours were having unauthorised visitors.
She did telephone one day to say she had cleaned her gas cooker out of sheer boredom and it now wasn’t working. I went down all masked and gloved up to find her gas cooker in bits. It took over 2 hours before I realised the fuse in the plug for the ignition was missing. It was impossible it could have worked before she cleaned it as she declared unless she had deliberately removed it to get me down there. No doubt for a bit of company. And of course, like Catherine Tates ‘Nan ‘ character when I said the fuse was missing Mrs B’ replied “who is it? Here’s a nice slice of cake for your troubles”.
She mentioned she liked word searches so I kept printing off a supply of those and popping them through her letterbox, I even had to buy a whole ream of paper to keep her in supply. While it was a genuine gesture, it was quite sneaky of me really as I hoped these word searches would keep her occupied and off the phone.
I ordered some home furniture and when faced with a mountain of flat polystyrene I thought I’d make a giant cactus which started off my crafty period. Friends had shared they were doing things like painting by numbers, woodwork, and even upholstery. It seemed friends I knew were all taking up little past times that we had perhaps done at school. And I felt the same as I made my first online order for a bottle of PVA glue, complete with one of them glue spreaders. A ton of green felt, and various paints to paint the cocktail sticks I’d use as cactus needles.
And I sat and did what I had done years back at school, deliberately smoothed my hand with glue so that I could peel it off when it had dried. One thing I recall doing at school was pottery of which I loved. So I went online and bought a massive bag of potters clay. At school, we only really made pots and vases with and without a wheel. So I thought I’d be best off starting small and perhaps with something easy. The first thing that came into my head was a 99’ ice cream that had fallen on the floor. If it worked out I thought it would look good on my floor as a little decorative piece.
Well, as with most things, it seemed a lot easier in my head than it was in practice. The cone was the tricky part and all that fine detail that I spent hours on. I did get to the point of being a little frustrated and bored but once I realised how many hours had passed I was happy it had served its purpose. Then I made an elaborate coat of arms which I thought would look good above an A1 framed copy of my family tree. Then on the hunt for another project, I found I had a 60cm x 120cm piece of MDF knocking about from a previous project. I’d seen an old sign online for a few hundred pounds so decided to copy it. I painted it black and had lots of gold paint left over from when I refurbished my theatre seats.
Last but not least was perhaps something psychologists would pour over and come out with some random crap about my state of mind. I printed a print and framed it in my hall with the well-known slogan ‘When life gives you lemons’. I then took some spray paint and etched Banksy’s window cleaner onto my hallway wall. I then painted in yellow ‘make lem…’ [onade] with the window cleaner erasing the remainder of that quote. I can’t say I thought too much of it, other than when life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade was the sentiment. And it wasn’t anything deeper other than pointing out that some of life’s sayings are pure drivel. But above all I found it visually cool to fill such a large bare wall although it took some getting used to as I left my lounge I’d shit myself.
Brighton
4 July 2020
With the easing of restrictions and the gradual re-opening of ‘non-essential’ businesses. Me and the friend I had confided my HIV status to arranged a day trip to Brighton.
Being cooped up and me known for my picnics, we stayed outside for the entire day. Once we arrived we plonked ourselves on the beach and stayed there for much of the day (bastard seagulls permitting). We had a stroll up to the pier and indulged in some hot fresh donuts before sitting by the bandstand on the prom until it was time to head home.
It was nice to be out ‘out’ and somewhere familiar yet missed. Despite speaking on the phone during lockdown it seemed we had a lot to catch up on, and that we did.
My next adventure, Blackpool.
There’s no place like home!
It took a lot of ‘virtual’ toing and froing in finding a new home during the lockdown and all the restrictions. I needed to move to rid the memory of what happened and just get on with life without the daily reminder,
I told Mrs. B’ I was moving a week before moving day and surprisingly she wasn’t pleased. I thought once it sank in she might wish me luck but she didn’t.
Just short of a year to the date of the assault, and on completion of paperwork I moved on 1 February 2021.
HOME: My lounge
LOUNGE: Moving day
I took the door jammer security bar which has been stored under my bed in my new home as I have no need for it. I knocked on Mrs. B’s door, she was in as I saw the curtain-twitching as the van was being loaded. But she didn’t answer.
