Everything led you to this…

Have you ever had a moment in your life that brought you so much clarity about where you are now?

I recently was interviewed by Catherine Wood on The Prosperous Empath podcast. We talked about my Women Coping with Herpes course and why I am the best therapist to work with women with Herpes. It forced me to really think about it. What led me to this incredibly important work and why is it important to me.

You may or may not know that I have lived on this earth for 47 glorious years. I am not one to go passively through life and I have SOME STORIES! The years that are close to my heart are the years I was working in the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic (DR). I remember wanting to do the Peace Corps from a very young age. I finally got around to it in my late 20’s. In fact, I know Cat, Prosperous Empath podcaster, from the Peace Corps. She was starting her service when I was leaving. I had been sent to work with youth to train them to be “youth multipliers” and teach other youth about HIV/AIDS/STDs. In the Peace Corps, you spend the first 3 months of your service getting intensely trained in your area of work and language (DR is a Spanish speaking country). Finally when you are done with “training” you get sent to the place where you will spend the next 24 months (2 years) to do your service. The first 3 months in our placement we were expected to sit back and observe. We were not supposed to do any work, none at all. The only thing you were supposed to do is talk to community leaders, spend afternoons drinking diabetes inducing sugar filled “cafecito” (coffee) with your neighbors. We were doing a “project” to find out if what we were solicited to do in the town we were now spending 2 years in, needed what we were spent for. You see, the local non-profit that solicits for a Peace Corps volunteer from the US Government has to outline the project to be done and propose the volunteer’s role. They have to partner with their new volunteer to do it. Although I loved my new partners, I discovered that they were not FROM the community where I was placed to do the work. They came in to the community that I lived and tried to do some work. People were not trusting of them. They didn’t KNOW them. This is when I learned that I wasn’t trusted yet either. I showed up at the office every day to sit and look at each other. They were not getting invites into places that they needed to in order to be able to start working. I, however, was living in the community and the members appreciated my interest in their experience and their struggles. I had been “adopted” into a local family and lived with them for a few months, which was a requirement of the Peace Corps. I loved them so much that I stayed after those 3 months of required time to live with them and rented an apartment on their land. I became godmother of several children, I got a dog (Papi Chulo!). When I went for my morning run, kids would line up around the “pley” (baseball diamond) to watch me in awe. They had never seen a gringa in real life in their community. I pieced together fragments of Spanish and soon learned from the “tigeres” (bad boys) how to speak slang Spanish. I became a member of the community and it was amazing.

One day, my host mother, came to me in tears. Her daughter had been sick and she was worried about her. I knew her daughter (we will call her Clari) was early in her 20s and she had been sick since I got there. I thought she was just a person who was sick all of the time and didn’t think anything of it. Clari had 2 kids who I loved and they loved me. My host mom told me that Clari was sick and she needed help. She had sores all over her vaginal area and they were so bad and painful that she couldn’t do anything but lie in bed. I asked some questions, I knew it was Herpes. I told her the medication to get to treat her. After Clari took the medicine and was feeling better, the mom told me that they needed my help with something else. I was not prepared for what was coming next. My host mom told me that her daughter has “SIDA” which means that she is HIV positive that had become AIDS. She told me that she was very sick and that although she had brought her daughter to the public clinic for people who have HIV/AIDS, they wouldn’t give her medicines because she was so sick already, they would be wasted. I couldn’t believe it. I asked her mom if I could go with her and Clari to the clinic, she agreed.

Our trip to the clinic is worth a post all to itself. Dominicans are known to be outgoing, sweet, friendly, and gregarious. I think I met the only person in the country that isn’t, it was the doctor that was treating Clari. I asked the doctor why she didn’t have antivirals. He wouldn’t give a direct answer and started writing out names of medications that we should get at the pharmacy, In DR you don’t need a prescription to get meds, you can just walk into the pharmacy. The problem was that the meds she needed cost more than her entire family earned in a month. I knew they just couldn’t do it and the doctor said they couldn’t give them to her and wouldn’t quite explain why. I had been told that public clinics have limited resources and that they only gave antivirals to people who were still in the HIV stage and hadn’t progressed to AIDS yet. to progress to AIDS you have to have below 200 t-cells. Clari had under 100. She was really sick. They were not going to “waste” the meds on her.

We left the office and I had some big feelings. Why was Clari, my beloved host sister and mother of 2 amazing children, not worth the treatment to save her? Was her life worth nothing? I was enraged at the injustice and my host mom was comforting me and telling me that we all just had to accept that Clari would die soon. I’m cringing at the privilege. I was “outraged” and they were comforting me. Thank goodness I’ve done anti racism work to see that now. There was nothing we could do. However, I had just made friends with a woman who owned a laboratory in town. She knew an American doctor in the capital that had a clinic that provided medications. It was a private clinic and sometimes she let in people who couldn’t afford meds if she sent them. My friend at the laboratory made the introduction and Clari was invited (with me) to go to this clinic. The doctor was an older woman. She had married a Dominican man and set up the clinic in DR. To be honest, I didn’t like her, but I knew that I had to help Clari. I thought this doctor was arrogant, judgmental, and also knew I needed her to save Clari’s life. As she examined Clari she asked me, in English, if Clari was a prostitute. I told her that no, Clari was not a prostitute, she just slept with the wrong guy who didn’t tell her her was HIV positive. She said to me in English, “I don’t think she will make it through the weekend.” Even though her chances for survival were slim, she gave her medication anyway and it only cost her a couple of dollars.

Unfortunately Clari got super sick because of the medication. Her body had such a negative reaction that she insisted it wasn’t working. I knew that it made her really sick because the AIDS had attacked her so badly that the meds were fighting hard. Her body was failing. She went to the public hospital, who told her to stop the meds. After all, just let her die in peace. I was devastated, her family was comforting me and assuring me that we just needed to let her die. Luckily, someone from the American doctor’s clinic called her to follow up and asked her to come back in. They were able to give her medications that helped her with the side effects of the antivirals and she started improving. She took her medication every day. She was eating. She was gaining weight. She was feeling better. I was elated. It turns out the entire community knew that she had AIDS way before I did. Clari told everyone that I had saved her life because I got her medication. Gulp.

I started to notice that people would start to come to me about family members that were HIV/AIDS positive. Unfortunately they came when the virus had advanced to AIDS. When I visited someone’s house the entire community would know they had AIDS. I had gained a reputation. I would tell family members that I would only go to the home if I was invited by the person who was sick. One man died while I was waiting for him to invite me over to see him. I will forever feel bad about that, but I knew it was the right thing to do. A man came up to me when I was out in the community, he told me about his mom and that she was really sick and heard I could get “vitamins” for her. I knew he was basically trying to ask for antivirals without saying it out loud. I told him that his mom would have to invite me to come over. He called and put her on the phone. “Please come” she said. I went with him to her home. I noticed immediately that she had the look of a walking skeleton. I knew we didn’t have much time. I took her the next day to the American doctor’s clinic. The doctor again asked me if this lady was a prostitute. I had some words I wanted to say to her, but I knew I needed her for this woman who was probably close to death I answered, “no, she just needs meds.” Again the American doctor said, in English, “she won’t make it through the weekend.” I looked at her with a smile and said, in English, “try me.” We left with a bag of meds for a couple of dollars. I told the woman that it was important that she take the meds, even if she felt sick, and to call the clinic if she was vomiting, they could give her something to help. Do you know this woman is still alive today? I am so proud of her. She’s definitely welcomed tons of grandchildren and her adult children make sure to find me when I come to visit.

If I told you my entire experience was great I would be lying. I hate ass-kissing. It really bothered me to have to be so nice to the arrogant judgmental doctor, but I felt I had to in order to gain access for clients. The days in the Peace Corps were some of the longest, yet the fastest 2 years of my life. I struggled knowing that the work I was doing was probably not sustainable. When I would leave, who would take people to the clinic? I think my host sister is still bringing people there. I took a couple of people I worked with and trusted to meet the doctor so that they could go to the clinic with people who needed help too.

How could I not feel good about this work? I’ve secretly wanted to drop everything and open up clinics in countries that don’t have as much access to treatment for HIV/AIDS. But instead that is the work that fuels me to work with women with Herpes. But Herpes is not AIDS, so what is the connection? The isolation. The shame. The incredible impact on people’s self worth and vulnerability to open themselves up to relationships. I get it. It’s so hard to be open and vulnerable. Herpes makes you vulnerable. You probably didn’t know you were exposed. Someone probably did not tell you because they were skirting vulnerability. Now you have it and here you are. Seeking someone who understands you. I do.

This work feels like a connection straight to my purpose. Everything comes together. To be chosen in the most vulnerable moment in someone’s life, it’s so meaningful to me to be chosen and trusted. I don’t take it for granted. But, I can’t help everyone. Not everyone is able to commit emotionally, financially, and practically. That is why I created the Women Coping with Herpes course. It’s easy, it’s independent, it’s less than the cost of 2 sessions with me, it’s accessible. You can do it in the privacy of your own home or you can share in the course community and you can support each other. It is a connection, a hand up, a lifeline. Don’t we all need one of those?

We are all here with a purpose, and this is mine. What is yours? If you don’t know, start with telling the story of the most important things you’ve done in your life. It will help. And you might just get connected back to your purpose, that’s priceless.