Growing up, I contracted HIV through a bad blood transfusion after a freak accident outside my parent’s house. I was playing and cut myself pretty good on the garden fencing. I was rushed to the hospital and they were running short on my particular blood type due to some sort of fault in the refrigeration system, so people were donating their blood inside of the hospital. I have a rare blood type, so when someone showed they had this kind of blood the doctors quickly took it and used it on me. Now, if this person hadn’t been around I probably would have died, just due to the extreme loss of blood, but because of the quick nature of it, the doctors were not able to make all of the necessary tests, including screening for HIV. It passed the initial test, but apparently the person was in the early stages of it and didn’t even know they had it, so through the blood it past on to me.
I know when I first discovered I had HIV I really wanted to be mad at the world. I mean, it wasn’t me that did anything wrong, yet I had been hit with this sudden strike of bad luck. However, without the blood transfusion I would have died anyway, so it really is a catch 22. Since the diagnosis though I have been living an extremely healthy life. Of course, my parents did take out life insurance on me, just in case, but at my request, because I did not want them to have to pay such extreme amounts when I am gone.