Desert Perks

Awareness at the Intersection

Paul Gallegos spends his free time standing on roadsides throughout the Coachella Valley, holding signs to promote the message of The Desert AIDS Project. You might not think twice in seeing his message but he knows more than most just how valuable its lesson is.

In 1999, Paul already had years of heavy drinking and drug use behind him. In preparation for a construction job, he’d decided to get a physical. The results of a routine blood test sent him and Kelley, his girlfriend of five years and expecting a child, into shock. Paul was HIV positive.

He spiraled, his drinking getting heavier, leading to trouble with the law and jail time. There was little education about the virus and even doctors would distance themselves from its victims. While in prison, Paul wasn’t being given the medication prescribed to him and his health declined further.

Kelley lost the baby, and though they were devastated at the time, they’re grateful the child was spared what could have been a lifetime of pain. Kelley was tested as well and her results were negative. Though it broke his heart, Paul gave her the option to end their relationship. However, Kelley’s love was strong enough to keep her at his side, as he’d always been at hers. They married shortly after. Since his release, Paul has remained clean and out of trouble.

As their life together accumulated as much normalcy as it could stand under the circumstances, this young couple looked to the future. They still wanted children together. Doctors advised against it; sperm washing was too expensive; nobody could help. They waited until test results showed the disease was undetectable, then chose to play the odds…and won. They understood that if the woman is virus-free, the child will be too. They gave birth to a healthy son and are expecting another son any day.

Paul explained his medications to me, the first being AZT, which left him with morning sickness and a lack of appetite. After adjustments, he was on one regiment for five years and another for seven. He was given a life expectancy of 10 years in 1999; it’s been twelve, and 42-year-old Paul assures me, “I’m still good.”

Paul smiles with hope, but he and his family are painfully aware that everything can change at any time. Paul is unable to work due to side affects and severe pain of neuropathy and joint disease, which he forces himself to live with to avoid unnecessary drugs. He supports his family with the meager funding.

He’s very open with his kids, family, and friends, though many are neither understanding nor forgiving. He’s shunned by people who don’t realize they aren’t at risk by merely being in his presence, however if they pass on a simple cold to him it could be life threatening.

His children are open about their Dad, too. They’re fiercely defensive and supportive—his 17 year old daughter often stands on the street with him. They, too, have suffered the reality of a cruel, uneducated society. Kids who had been friends with his children since kindergarten began to taunt, bully, and reject them when they found out about their father’s condition. Eventually, he and his wife made the decision to home school. His daughter hopes to become a doctor—a disease specialist. If she has her father’s drive, I’ve no doubt her dream will come true.

This summer, she’s finally old enough to volunteer at Camp Heartland in Malibu, which was created for children infected and affected by AIDS. Having attended in the past, the camp means a tremendous amount to this young lady. Her brother asks daily if he can attend this year. His dad isn’t sure if their finances will allow it.

Paul is grateful for his wife and kids. “They are the reason I’m alive; without them I’d have given up.” When Paul was still imprisoned and support seemed unlikely, Kelley searched for help and found it in the Desert AIDS Project. He’s grateful to the professionals and volunteers at DAP, as well as celebrity advocates like Scott Nevins and Lorna Luft, who work tirelessly to raise awareness. Paul is focused on paying forward the support he has received—he was quiet for ten years, but silence will help no one.

Sadness reflects in his eyes showing he doesn’t like to talk about the events that brought him to this point in life, but he moves past it quickly, because he needs to. He doesn’t want pity: he blames no one but himself and takes full responsibility for contracting HIV. His days of drug use, sharing needles, and promiscuity all led to it and he knows that. He also knows that if he’d had the facts back then, he might still have done the things he did, but with caution, That’s the bottom line of his message, and it’s one he shares with anyone who will listen.

Paul wants the message sent plainly: though the CDC no longer sees HIV as an epidemic and people infected are now living longer, the danger is still very real, and there is still much work to do. And everyone is at risk, regardless of gender or sexual preference. He stresses that HIV stands for human immunodeficiency virus.

His wife often joins in sharing her story as well. When speaking to kids who often aren’t receptive to yet another talk, he begins by saying “each of you will know someone with HIV in your lifetime.” He then tells his audience they now know someone, often eliciting tears. Perhaps because deep down they hadn’t paid attention until now to another talk.

He is paid nothing for what he does; his time is donated from the heart. His goal is to educate and share, and if he spares one person the pain he and his family lives with each day, then his service will be rewarded.

If you see Paul, wave to him and show your support. On his behalf, educate yourself and your family and friends. If you know someone affected, reach out to them with understanding and see what you can do to help this fight. In our lifetime, let’s support those infected so they may know fulfilling lives, and let’s work to ensure that no one else must endure this.

It can be done, one person at a time–just like Paul.

If you’d like to talk to Paul or have him speak at your organization, please contact me and I’ll forward your message.

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