My First HIV Christmas

26 Dec

Christmas 2022 was not my first Christmas with HIV, in fact, Christmas 2020 was. However, as I was busy on TikTok and seeing everybody putting up their Christmas trees to music in a viral trend I did the same. Within 10 mins of putting on the lights, I decided I didn’t want a Christmas tree for Christmas and took it down posting my attempt on TikTok. I have never been big on Christmas, even as a child I hated it and especially as I have been single for years I have come accustomed to not getting stressed with the fuss.

And Christmas 2021 I was just far too busy for bothering with Christmas decorations. I did ensure I took Christmas day off from ‘the book’ given the manuscript was in the ‘tweak’ stage but was pretty much done. I did the turkey and watched the Queen’s speech as per tradition.

So with all the Christmas decorations and props left over from the making of ‘The Lost Boys of Soho’ Christmas advert. I like many chucked-up decorations at the start of December 2022. This was the first time living with HIV that I was essentially getting into the Christmas spirit. The book had been selling well, I didn’t have work so I was happy to kick back and relax. I did the Christmas shopping and slowly got ready for Christmas day and I was the envy of my friends for being so prepared. But then there was only me so it was easy.

Christmas Eve, I took out the Turkey that served 11-15 people to defrost. I dug out an old paternal family recipe for chicken liver pate chucking in extra glugs of port for good measure. Well, I think the recipe was written at the time of rationing during the war. Then Ironed the linen for the table and did a bit of napkin folding while opening a bottle of red. I made an elf’s shoe, allegedly, a Christmas tree, and, well, see for yourself.

Then I prepared all the veg and before I went to bed I took one last look at my empty Christmas stocking hanging in the lounge. Wondering if the magic of Christmas really existed, I guess I will find out in the morning. Having just turned 40 at the start of the month when I woke Christmas morning I had that excitement to go check my stocking to see if Father Christmas had been. I knew this was ridiculous, but at the same time I said to myself ‘you never know, he might have’.

Well, he hadn’t, the bastard! I laughed to myself because it was stupid really. But then I said to myself ‘even as you get older, you should never stop dreaming, hoping, and wishing’. I had a lazy breakfast continental style before I got to work on getting the turkey in the oven.

I managed to catch a few nostalgic Christmas-time films such as Annie (1982), Mary Poppins (1964), Home Alone, Back to the Future, and E.T. It was just one nostalgic film after another it was amazing. And of cour,se the highlight of Christmas day television has always been the Queen’s speech. And this year it was the first Christmas speech of The King.

I had as tradition my whole life dictated, turned down the homemade gravy to a simmer and placed dinner on the table 2 minutes before the strike of 3pm. The Queen’s speech regardless of whether I am a royalist or not, for me gives a great sense of Great British pride. As the UK becomes ever more multicultural people view the Queen/monarchy as a mere ‘attraction’ or ‘novelty’. For me with a recorded paternal heritage as far back as King Henry VII (1501) reminds me who I am, where I am from, and where I belong. Also as the nation’s Gran, there was always an incentive to tune in to see what she was wearing.

A few minutes into the King’s Christmas address I didn’t feel the same magic and sense of pride and returned back to the gravy and had dished up for myself by the time he had finished. It was at this moment I said ‘he’s not my King’.

I had washed and cleaned the kitchen as I cooked dinner so there was minimal washing up. But once done I spent the rest of the evening with a bottle of red wine and a small selection of average cheese and a banging Christmas pudding. I made a short TikTok with Lily Savage sharing how I usually like to spend Christmas (minus the drugs).

I went to bed absolutely thrilled I had the best Christmas ever, by myself with some decent food and some fabulous television. It was perfect. Although I spent the following five days trying to find imaginative ways to eat turkey.