tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35674961531230629852024-02-21T00:49:59.285+08:00/adj/Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-1438028672688565542017-12-30T16:33:00.001+08:002017-12-30T17:46:40.675+08:00for rentSome things just need to be out there, literally, like a piece of wood, hanging by the gate, written on it: <i>For Rent</i>.<br />
<br />
It’s as if I never understood the aftermath. Or maybe I do, I just wanted not to understand them. The light by his room would sometimes hurt in those few seconds when I would pass by. Sometimes, they charge with hope. But I couldn’t be anywhere stable. How can a faint light stir so much oscillation, waves thrashing me here and there, in those few seconds, few steps, where I’m thrown into, before I turn my head back to the street, and notice that the air has been dropping colder by the night.<br />
<br />
At first, I didn’t understand. In my defense, he was not short of spinning strings. And I was the hapless fly who thought they were fairytales, when after all, they were cobwebs. I couldn’t make sense of what happened and what his promises were for. If there was any indication of intention in it. Or illusion. The chill of December air compounds the linger and confusion.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t until later when the Universe, I guess too tired of and pissed at my stupidity, blatantly gave me a sign. You know, whether it’s divine intervention or cosmic coincidence, there will always be those things that will hold themselves out there. That need to be just out there. Waiting for you to grasp them. In all their material presence. In all their perceptibility. To strike you the coup de grâce. To prepare you for the bleeding you ever deny yourself, because you twist the tourniquet just a little bit tighter, when you feel your hurt is becoming far stronger than your hope.<br />
<br />
The renovated room where we romped for hours is too big for one man. Now the entire house is leased out. I passed by and shuddered for a while when the letters on the plank read, <i>For Rent</i>.<br />
<br />
The cold went to chilling. The stars hid behind the midnight rain clouds. The tourniquet gave way.<br />
<br />
<i>For Rent. Wasn’t that you to begin with? You never were the owner. Five hours into that Wednesday night. Prostituting your soul to get into his heart. And the price you paid was the imagination that dragged you up Mayon St, left to Roxas St, and down to Iriga. Just to see if the light by the window is lit. If he is gallivanting with others, if he is holding on, or if he is entirely the bug that eats hapless flies. For Rent. You were never his; and he, not yours. Just bodies dancing in bed until the burning dawn cast light on the lies that sate.</i><br />
<br />
Never had two words been so emancipating. After weeks of slugfest and self-denials, there I was, staring point blank at truth. He isn’t love. Just a hand-me-down for the night. The darkest before the dawn. And God how I loved for weeks to fumble in his darkness, until the Universe had it enough of my overreacting stupidity, that His pity descended to hate: <i>Here you go. A prophetic piece of log.</i><br />
<br />
The last time I checked, he was some three to four miles away. I don’t know what he’s up to. Maybe leasing out his space. Without spelling it out. For hapless flies. I hope the Universe doesn’t get tired from saving unfortunate bugs and writing down <i>For Rent </i>on a piece of log.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-66381254842414264952017-10-06T01:25:00.001+08:002017-10-06T01:56:03.262+08:00warning signIt's hard to write about depression especially if you don't have it. Not because you don't know or understand anything about it, but because you can only write one's pain from an audience' standpoint. Writers call it the narrator's voice. I call it honoring the past.<br />
<br />
Depression came too late in the day for me. Past September 5, 2015 when I was struggling to pick up the pieces of what I can say the best relationship I've had with someone. I look at that past with him whimsically. And I can even handpick a memory or two from the flashes of those years, but I cannot deny myself that depression ended it. And had I known about it earlier I would have done so many things, which, in tears, I regret now.<br />
<br />
I guess the struggle to knowing the reality of depression as a mental disease for me came along with how my mother raised me. She raised me in a strictly authoritarian rule where women run the clan with utmost grace, open secrets, and no-nonsense kitchen logic. What do you get when a Tiger Mother raised you? Of course, a Tiger Cub. I'll not deny that I have a strong personality. I could be quiet, seemingly out of the radar, but for the introvert that I am, (for the peculiarly prone to depression boy that I am) depression to me is New York to Saturn: many a mile. There is in me that cannot understand the dynamics of depression because it seemed to lock horns with how I handle myself. Sure, I've experienced being bullied in an exclusively male school. True, I've came face-to-face with domestic problem during my formative years. Yes, I once took a beating for being gay. And, what seemingly like a cherry on top of this whole train wreck, I've had HIV. So you could say I've had enough dole out from life's miseries. But some people are just too hard to bend on their knees. I'm one of them. Until the cliche of a Love came along.<br />
<br />
The first time I laid my eyes on Depression, we were in a cemetery. It was an arranged meet up spanning three months of anonymity. My friends warned me that I may end up in a grave there in Himlayang Pilipino. I trusted my guts. Depression is this tall, geeky guy who has an immortal power of playing with words. He is a wordsmith like me. He knows how to say "I love you" in ways precum will shape itself into China in your boxers.<br />
<br />
Depression is a quiet guy. Quieter than I am, better in words than I am, I can say. Throughout the sojourn I've had with him, I knew there was something wrong. I didn't have the faculty of words for it though. It was alarming because I couldn't withdraw a word for it from my vocabulary bank. All I know--if you may please to allow me to show, don't tell--is sometimes, Depression was: "Hun, I'm not going to work today. I'll just coop inside the house. I can do work from home." And I think that's fine, right? Depression was: "I don't celebrate birthdays. I'm not really a festive guy." I think that's okay with a dint of suspect. But Christmas? That's too buzzkill. Depression was: "It's okay. I understand." But I think he doesn't, but I'll apologize anyway because he was with me even before I entered law school so I thought he did sign up for this, right?<br />
<br />
Wrong. Depression is a great impostor. Because while I had much misgivings, Depression showered me with so much to such a point that it was able to hide behind the mask of itself. Depression was the voice who seconded my dad about choosing a particular law school. Depression was the companion who would never mind how long the wait was at PGH-Sagip. Depression was my punching bag during those nights of obligations when he shouldn't do a thing but listen to my crappy bad recitation day. Depression is my bestfriend who would just read a book with me in a coffee shop. I took Depression at Pinto Art Museum once, and I saw the glitter in his eyes. I introduced five-foot-nine Depression to my family--from parents up to my grandmother down to my cousins--and he curled into a shy puppy. Depression hated crowds, but loved the rows of Fully Booked. Depression was mad, mad sex. Depression was HIV negative. Depression was acceptance. And I didn't have a word for it.<br />
<br />
"Depression" was only baptized as a word only after I asked my bestfriend what went wrong between him and I. Over bottles of beers that only I swigged at, after a long litany of painful recounts, she said, "Did she check if he has depression?" I didn't know where she was going. And I think that was medically malicious of her. But my bestfriend had been clinically diagnosed with depression, saw a psychiatrist for herself, and took medicines for it for her to know if the bells are tolling. And just like the veiled disease that depression is, she kept it hidden from me because she doesn't want to make me sad. Because she hadn't had the guts to tell that she's medically depressed in the way that I had told her that I was positive of HIV. And I wept because I felt offended and hurt and pained. I wept because I finally found the realest word for it.<br />
<br />
Looking back, I finally figured why on some days he would have this spell of melancholia. It's a pretty fancy phrase I coined when he was down and out. I finally realized why sometimes it seemed to me that his bed seemed like a blackhole he can't even get out of. I finally realized that I should have apologized when I sadistically said, "Because you know, some happy faces hide the most unspeakable sadness" (that was when he flipped open the pages of the 50th anniversary edition of James and the Giant Peach and inside are really sad and forlorn artistic renditions, notwithstanding the bright and colorful cover).<br />
<br />
I wish there was a way to tell Joey de Leon that depression is not "gawa-gawa lang." And the support that Maine Mendoza said was not to support them to be sad all the more, but to support them towards the diagnosis and further treatment. I take a cutting offense with the mortifying remarks of these people. And I cannot laugh at their ignorance as well. There is no legitimate feeling but deep scorn for these people who never knew how amorphous depression is until it is too late, until people are hurt, until communication lines hang loose, and the elephant in the room, that "gawa-gawa lang" thing, is still sitting in that dark corner, because we never knew how to deal with it without putting shame on it, without being dismissive of it. I think between depression and those ignominous words from Joey de Leon what is more mental is the fact that people cannot see that depression is a disease, not really about how strong or weak we are in entangling ourselves from sadness, melancholy, defeat, or cloudy day.<br />
<br />
For someone who does not know depression entirely, it's hard to write about it. So I thought it's better to paint a picture of it than to tell what I know of it, and some parts that I don't. There are still so many things to learn, and I guess one of those is the privilege to unlearn (which is a way to learn) that I do not have the self-entitlement of glorifying under other's pity just because I have HIV. Yes, I have HIV. But diseases are a spectrum of blacks and whites and grays. Depression or HIV, these shamed diseases needed to be learned more before we conveniently rely and throw in the red herrings of morality that will confound the truth and science that we all want to know.<br />
<br />
As I type this, I texted him and asked him about what I feel and I apologized to him, and told him that had I only learned of his state, I would have been more considerate, and would have put enough courage to let my hands bleed just to peel the layers of his smiles. Just to get there. To get into that core of black and prove Mr de Leon that nothing is conveniently made up. Once, before Depression and I broke up, it came to a point where he wanted me to choose: Depression as unnamed back then or law school. I chose. And you certainly know what I chose. The choice came along with dire costs, some immediate to the heartbreak; one, tonight, through one of his replies:<br />
<br />
<i>I know I'm prone to depression before us. I thought I had a better handle. But I'm learning to manage it better. Or at least I try. I'm sorry I didn't carry a warning sign. You did your best despite things. I know you did. I know we did. And isn't that all that matters?</i><br />
<br />
Now tell me, Mr de Leon, tell it right at the gaps of my jagged heart, if I am making up all these tonight as much as any depressed person can make up their sad stories tonight?Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-33490820490578159662017-06-25T03:33:00.000+08:002017-06-25T03:34:41.302+08:00blankets<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
I hope to see you soon. To tell myself that I am happier. To prove myself that I have covered a greater mile beyond the future that dimmed before us. I have no other way to compare the promises I made to myself with where I am now but to test myself through you. I hope to see you soon to tell myself that all the tears that quenched my throat was worth the travel down to my guts. It could never be anyone but through you for me to tell myself that I resurrected from the graveyard; that the hurt that came when I had to peel off my old skin, which knew too well the contours and gaps of your body, was for my sake even if it feels as if every strand of my faith is torn from me just for the sake of baptism. I hope to see you soon.</div>
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But not too soon. Or better yet, forget it. Because I am afraid that all the blankets that I wrapped myself beneath before going to bed will come hovering at me in broad daylight. The blanket of stars that remind me how I can never see another beauty. No one beauty can be repeated. It’s a thing that life taught us only through heartbreak. The blanket of darkness that I chose to drape myself with for being too blinded by the generic daylight most men have these days. And the blanket of thoughts that left me awake on the edge of sunrise and pulled me out of REM cycle.</div>
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Lies comfort the dreary ones and it is hope that makes one lie immeasurable against truth. I think I can never see you because I don’t know how much coffee I have to drink to keep my lies awake: that you are a linear past, never bound to repeat again; and that somehow, I wouldn’t want to let go of that throb in my chest because it perfectly spells out your name. And if we meet again, I can never be too sure if I can bring my entire self together again should you confess me your truth: that some parts of me still lives in you. I never want to meet you; because I’m afraid that beyond these promises that we made to ourselves after we almost damned each other in our memories, what we’re only needing is each other’s finger to plug the hole in our hearts when Cupid ask for his arrow back.</div>
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That flying imp never told us that his arrow could leave splinters in our hearts.</div>
Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-55964476348794486462017-06-24T13:43:00.002+08:002017-06-24T13:43:41.242+08:00vertigo<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">I still remember you whenever I see planes dotting the sky. Maybe because the anchor of regret still wrings my neck hostage, a chain to a locket of impossibility, or a scarlet letter. Scarlet for dried bleeding, not Catholic shame. You see, I've always fallen clueless for men already tied to another. I guess it's my fourth to count that I started to examine my skin one afternoon before shower. Maybe an epithelial cell could answer the misfortune. You were the first domino to fall and create the wave. I should have loathed you but I guess there's so much peace in quiet resignation. Airplanes. You. Incredible, right? I do not know either.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">I was in a daze the night when you said you were already at the airport. I wore two left shoes. One yearned the final bid. The other, a safe distance. None of them were right. But an injured person owes himself a sense of justice, and heaps of pride. Until some memento mori scattered in the metropolis reminds him that the world was built on skewed encounters, illumined by asymmetrical smiles.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Tickets to freedom may be constructive, I guess. Constructive, and an afterthought. We belong to lands whose shores did not even kiss during Pangaea.</span>Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-59373948044893649082017-04-28T03:57:00.000+08:002017-04-28T23:05:23.407+08:007 Things to Know about the Ongoing HIV Law Amendment<b>Some preliminary matters:</b><br />
The Senate, through the Senate Health Committee, has already issued a committee report. It already filed Senate Bill (SB) 1390, which consolidated the bills of Sens. Hontiveros, Legarda, Trillanes IV, Angara, Poe and Binay. Before SB 1390, these six senators individually filed their versions of a substitute bill to 1998 HIV/AIDS Law. All six versions were tackled, resulting in SB 1390.<br />
<br />
At the House of Representatives, the House Committee on Health has already consolidated the versions of each lawmaker into one House Bill. But as of this writing, that consolidated bill has not yet been filed. On May 10, 2017, the Committee will convene to discuss the consolidated bill for final amendments. It is expected that they will release a committee report with the final House Bill, akin to SB 1390.<br />
<br />
<b>What are inside the two separate bills:</b><br />
<b><u>1. The two chambers are at odds with the issue of PLHIVs as regards HMOs</u></b><br />
Senate: SB 1390 expressly included HMOs as an institution which cannot deny or deprive a PLHIV for coverage without any qualification. That is provided under paragraph 2, Section 39 of SB 1390, reading:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"No person living with HIV shall be denied or deprived of private health insurance under a Health Maintenance Organization (HMO) and private life insurance coverage under a life insurance company on the basis of person's HIV status."</blockquote>
<br />
House: The lower chamber's version — also in paragraph 2, Section 39 — did not expressly write HMO. It provided that, "No person living with HIV shall be denied or deprived of private health and life insurance coverage on the basis of the person’s HIV status x x x." This sentence was qualified by a phrase, "following the company’s reasonable underwriting policies.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, under Article VII, Section 46 (Discriminatory Acts and Practices), it is worthy to note an odd addendum to that phrase stated above. Paragraph (f) — "Exclusion from Credit and Insurance Services" — provided that it is a discriminatory act if a "loan or insurance (facility)" excluded a PLHIV despite having undergone the company's "reasonable underwriting processes and pricing policies." This animal of "and pricing policies" suddenly appeared. Again, no explicit mention of HMOs.<br />
<br />
<i>What's the implication to this?</i><br />
1. Since the House bill did not expressly include HMO, the HMOs may claim that they can deny coverage to PLHIVs, on the ground that they are not insurance companies. At present, there are conflicting views as to HMOs not being insurance companies. Even the Supreme Court in <b><i>Philippine Healthcare Providers, Inc. v. Commissioner of Internal Revenue (G.R. No. 167330) </i></b>ruled that HMOs are <u>not engaged in the insurance business.</u> Suffice to say, it can be argued by the HMOs that they are totally a different animal compared to insurance companies, and that their exclusion in the law will permit them to deny PLHIVs access to health coverage.<br />
<br />
2. In law, specifically in the interpretation of law (we call it "statutory construction"), when there are conflicting provisions, some rules on statutory construction will be relied upon. If this House version goes to court and the court has the opportunity to rule upon this difference, it may apply the "rule of later provision." What's that? Simply put, provision which comes later in the law is deemed to be the true intent of the lawmakers. Hence, in this scenario, we can presume that since "pricing policies" appears in Section 46 as against its absence in Section 39, it will be Section 46, which carries the second qualification of pricing policy, which will prevail. Meaning, a PLHIV is under the mercy of the underwriting policy of the insurance company and its pricing policy, which is we all know how they arrive to that is kept under the rug.<br />
<br />
<u><b>2. Both bills instruct redress mechanism to protect the human rights of PLHIVs</b></u><br />
Senate and House: The SB 1390 and the unnumbered House bill carry a provision on "Protection of Human Rights." Worthy to note is the last sentence of paragraph 2 of Section 10.<br />
<br />
Senate: The Senate Bill tasks DOJ as the lead implementing agency in crafting the redress mechanism, "to ensure that their (PLHIVs) civil, political, economic, and social rights are protected." Joining DOJ are the Philippine National AIDS Council (PNAC) and Commission on Human Rights (CHR) in crafting the mechanism.<br />
<br />
House: The House Bills tasked DOH and CHR as the lead implementing agencies. It instructs PNAC to coordinate with DOH and CHR.<br />
<br />
<i>Our take as PLHIVs?</i><br />
Add the Department of Labor and Employment (DOLE) in the picture. On pain of repetition, make explicit "labor rights" because time and again we are faced with discrimination as regards security of tenure and/or employment simply because of this condition. It is about time that we call for a law that asks DOLE to intervene for our labor rights.<br />
<br />
Also, when it gets down to it, the DOJ has no oversight over labor arbiters. It only has oversight over prosecutors. Should a PLHIV file a labor case before the National Labor Relations Commission, it will be labor arbiters who will handle the case. And who is the big boss of labor arbiters? The DOLE. So put DOJ and DOLE side by side to create a redress mechanism that will be followed should a court case proceeds as regards discrimination against PLHIVs.<br />
<br />
<b><u>3. "Contact tracing" is changed to "partner notification"</u></b><br />
The 1998 HIV/AIDS Law defined contract tracing as "the method of finding and counselling the sexual partner(s) of a person who has been diagnosed as having sexually transmitted disease."<br />
<br />
Senate and House bill defines "partner notification as "the process by which the 'index client', 'source' or 'patient', who has a sexually transmitted infection (STI) including HIV, is given support in order to notify and advise the partners that have been exposed to infection. Support includes giving the index client a mechanism to encourage the client’s partner to attend counseling, testing and other prevention and treatment services. Confidentiality shall be observed in the entire process."<br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
<b><u>4. Private sectors also asked to create a grievance system as regards discrimination</u></b><br />
Senate and House: Both chambers created a new provision, captioned as "Duty of employers, heads of government, heads of public and private schools or training institutions, and local chief instructive."<br />
<br />
I quote in full:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
SEC. 45. Duty of Employers, Heads of Government Offices, Heads of Public and Private Schools or Training Institutions, and Local Chief Executives. – It shall be the duty of private employers, heads of government offices, heads of public and private schools or training institutions, and local chief executives over all private establishments within their territorial jurisdiction to prevent or deter acts of discrimination against persons living with HIV, and to provide procedures for the resolution, settlement, or prosecution of acts of discrimination. Towards this end, the employer, head of office, or local chief executive shall:<br />
(a) Promulgate rules and regulations prescribing the procedure for the investigation of discrimination cases and the administrative sanctions thereof; and<br />
(b) Create a permanent committee on the investigation of discrimination cases. The committee shall conduct meetings to increase the members’ knowledge and understanding of HIV and AIDS, and to prevent incidents of discrimination. It shall also conduct the administrative investigation of alleged cases of discrimination. </blockquote>
<br />
<i>What's good in this provision?</i><br />
Finally, the provision empowers, if not mandates, the private sectors to resolve, settle and prosecute acts of discrimination. The two qualifying enumerations — paragraphs (a) and (b) — give the private sector the capacity to investigate and to enforce penalties for any acts of discrimination.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>A bit of law and procedure?</i><br />
To my mind, this may become an "administrative remedy" which will be a condition <i>sine qua non </i>before filing a court case as regards discrimination. Simply put: If Person A files a case before the court without undergoing this administrative or investigative procedure, the court may validly dismiss the case for the meantime (let's call it, "without prejudice") and ask Person A to submit himself before this "permanent committee" and allow such permanent committee to rule first on his issue. Such that if no resolution was reached between Person A and the other party, that will only be the time when Person A can file a case and for the court to say that it has capacity to hear the case.<br />
<br />
<i>Our take?</i><br />
This is a good step to get the participation of private sectors in helping address discrimination in the workplace and in school by placing a procedure as to how to lodge a complaint or grievance. While both public and private sectors are instructed to "provide procedures for the resolution, settlement, or prosecution of acts of discrimination," the PLHIV community should look forward to this because it clearly included "employers" without distinguishing if it is public or private.<br />
<br />
<b><u>5. Harm reduction provision is not in sync between the Senate and House versions</u></b><br />
Senate: Section 23 of SB 1390 is captioned as "Harm Reduction Strategies"<br />
House: The unnumbered HB is more narrowed in its Section 23, read as "Comprehensive Drug Intervention for People who Inject Drugs"<br />
<br />
<i>Takeaway?</i><br />
There is a huge misconception that when one speaks of "harm reduction" in HIV, it only refers to use of injectible drugs--which is a mode of transmitting HIV. Harm reduction is more than that. It is more than syringe or needle and drug. Harm reduction should be broad enough to include reduction of the transmission of HIV and its harmful consequences. Yes, there is harm reduction policies and programs as to injectible drugs. But also, there could also be harm reduction strategies tailored fit for sex workers. The lawmakers, in their bicameral meeting, have to resolve which between the provisions to use. Then again, what is clear is, harm reduction is not simply drug use.<br />
<br />
<b><u>6. Two representations in PNAC</u></b><br />
Senate and House: We will be having two representations before the PNAC.<br />
<br />
<i>Fast facts?</i><br />
What is PNAC or the Philippine National AIDS Council, by the way? It is, among many others, the advisory, planning and policy-making body of the country as regards our address in fighting HIV and AIDS. PNAC is composed of government representatives, civil society organizations and PLHIV community. Back in the 1998 HIV/AIDS Law, out of the 26 members of PNAC, the PLHIV community is only represented by one person.<br />
<br />
<i>How we arrive to 2 seats?</i><br />
During the Technical Working Group at the House of Representatives last March 13, 2017, the PLHIV community stood pat that we already have to have 2 representatives at the very least on board PNAC. This is because of the changing milieu of the virus. The community was met with opposition from PNAC itself, from Philippine Information Agency and from Rep. Sol Aragones of Laguna. Probably, we can call that confrontation as one of the fiercer debates during the TWG because while the PLHIV community has allies in the CSOs and in the National Youth Commission, it also has oppositors from other sectors. Rep. Joet Garcia of Bataan gave each voice their fare share of time to air their concern. The "seat contention" in the end was noted and will be deliberated upon. For the House to give the PLHIV community representatives before the PNAC, after the debate is their recognition of our importance in changing the landscape of HIV response.<br />
<br />
<b><u>7. Disclosure of HIV status to sexual partners</u></b><br />
Myth: Keeping your HIV status a secret to your sexual partner carries jail time.<br />
Fact: There has never been jail time as regards non-disclosure to partners — <b><u>EVER!</u></b><br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
Do not be of the illusion that Section 34 of RA 8504 carries a jail term. And I quote:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Section 34. Disclosure to sexual partners. – Any person with HIV is obliged to disclose his/her HIV status and health condition to his/her spouse or sexual partner at the earliest opportune time.</blockquote>
<br />
When you go down to Section 42 of the RA 8504, the penalty only applies to discriminatory acts under Article V. Section 34 is under Article IV. I have read tweets and comments stating that if a PLHIV does not disclose his status to his sexual partner, he will be placed behind bars. That is not true. It's a misreading of the law. Section 34 of RA 8504 is a <b>"<u>conscience clause</u>."</b> It does not carry a penal provision.<br />
<br />
And that does not change in the Senate or House bills. Under RA 8504, the wording of the law is a PLHIV "is obliged" to disclose his status to his partner. In the two bills, the wording of the law is "is strongly encouraged." These two bills and even the 1998 HIV/AIDS Law do not impose a criminal offense to non-disclosure. Let's iron that one out.<br />
<br />
<b>What to expect from here?</b><br />
1. Both Committees on Health in the Senate and House, acting on their own, will pass the final bill for transmittal to the plenary. (This will be the venue where the aye's and the naye's will be heard) All lawmakers will be copy furnished with the text of the bill.<br />
2. The bill will be scheduled as an agenda during plenary hearings. Here we can lobby to support our authors: at the Senate, it is Sen Risa Hontiveros; at the House, it will likely be Rep Kaka Bag-ao of Dinagat Islands. Expect debates. Debates may be intense because of the sticky context that this bill may impress in the minds of conservative lawmakers.<br />
3. The bill must pass three readings. If the House and the Senate, acting on their own, pass each of their version beyond the third reading, a bicameral meeting will be held to streamline the bills separately coming from the House and Senate.<br />
3. After the bicameral convenes, it will create the final version of the bill, ready for signature at the Malacañang. Hopefully by then the President signs it into law.<br />
<br />
<b>Last fast facts: </b><br />
Who are the individual authors of HIV Amendment Law at the House? Here's a list:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Rep. Kaka Bag-ao (Dinagat Islands, Lone District)</li>
<li>Rep. Harry Roque (Party List - KABAYAN)</li>
<li>Rep. Victor Yap (Tarlac, 2nd District)</li>
<li>Rep. Pia Cayetano (Taguig City-Pateros, 2nd District)</li>
<li>Rep. Teddy Brawner Baguilat, Jr. (Ifugao, Lone District)</li>
<li>Rep. Sandra Eriguel, M.D. (La Union, 2nd District)</li>
<li>Rep. Estrellita Suansing (Nueva Ecija, 1st District)</li>
<li>Rep. Horacio Suansing, Jr. (Sultan Kudarat, 2nd District)</li>
<li>Rep. Imelda Marcos (Ilocos Norte, 2nd District)</li>
<li>Rep. Bellaflor Angara-Castillo (Aurora, Lone District)</li>
<li>Rep. Angelina “Helen” Tan, M.D. (Quezon, 4th District)</li>
<li>Rep. Gary Alejano (Party List - MAGDALO)</li>
<li>Rep. Gus Tambunting (Parañaque City, 2nd District)</li>
<li>Rep. Sharon Garin (Party List - AAMBIS-OWA)</li>
<li>Rep. Tom Villarin (Party List - AKBAYAN)</li>
<li>Rep. Ron Salo (Party List - KABAYAN)</li>
<li>Rep. Raymond Democrito Mendoza (Party List - TUCP)</li>
</ol>
Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-25650540914114854012017-02-28T02:16:00.001+08:002017-02-28T02:41:07.314+08:00six years overdueThe streets are familiar. Even the quaint light from the sporadic convenient stores are familiar. "The convenient store! I know that one convenient store there." I was supposed to visit the place a year after 2011, but it took me only in 2017, and a chance encounter, to be there. There was no pain anymore. Chills, maybe. But I needed this. It was six years overdue.<br />
<br />
Mike sent me an SMS and asked if he could get his book back. Of course, he can. I just loaned it from him and it's been a while since I kept on saying "yes" but wouldn't go. If it weren't for the seemingly irritated undertone in his messages, I would still be thick-skinned as to delay the return of the book.<br />
<br />
Even during the first time I visited Mike's home, I was already acutely aware that somewhere around his neighborhood was the complex of dormitories. I tried to look for it last December when I went home on foot from Mike's with <i>I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings </i>clutched in my pit. But that time, I was not looking harder. I thought, if I'd see the house, I'd see it. If I don't, then I don't.<br />
<br />
February. Mike texted. I was ambling down to his place on the back streets of Sampaloc, away from España Blvd. The familiar ruckus of people, the train tracks of PNR, and suddenly UST is coming to view. From the house, I took on Florentino St. to reach M. dela Fuente. The night wind allowed me to think through the 17 blocks of street: "I guess I'll try harder this time around."<br />
<br />
Almost half an hour passed when I returned the book, thanked Mike, and saluted off. "I'll try harder this time around." I took a turn on Piy Margal, as if some metaphysical hand pushed me offtrack. Finally, the streets became familiar. The quaint lights from the sporadic convenient stores became recognizable like a dusty case folder taken from my mental cabinet. I could not be wrong about the convenient store. There is no mistaking about it.<br />
<br />
I walked to a slow, hoping to make sense of the small block from my six-year-old memory. It felt like deliberately touching a scar at the back of my head wanting to recall how I figured in the accident and got the wound. It was both dangerous and liberating: to be at the place where I spent that one night that will redound to an error of a lifetime.<br />
<br />
I saw the convenient store. I knew that back in February 2011, a boy named Jerome hissed from the other side of the street to signal me to enter into a complex of dormitory units. I should remember too well that store like a lifeline on the palm of my hand, some thing that's ought to be there. It was the store where I bought a Mountain Dew as I texted him where exactly his place is. From the right bank of the road I saw the <i>sari-sari </i>store. I saw my 22-year-old self crossed the street and entered into a gate. "Where the fuck is the gate?" I was already directly across the store when I reminded myself "I'll try harder this time around. This memory is overdue. I'll try harder and find it." I turned around and paced, redraw my steps. It's should be somewhere around here, I thought. There's a tree: Too insignificant. There's a salon: I don't recall. And then suddenly, like a sleeping prisoner in the dark jail, the green gate appeared. I stopped.<br />
<br />
I stood there. For good 15 seconds I allowed my inner eye to resurrect what I should have not done in 2011. I saw myself entered the gate. It could only take a while when I and Jerome were already undressed, I thought. If only there was a way to stop me, I would. But memories are ghosts with bloodshot eyes. They stare at you without remorse, and only then you'd know if you have grown accustomed to bringing the Crucifix out into the streets.<br />
<br />
I stood for a good time, allowed myself to immerse, to marinate into the thought of that night. From the gate, I saw the imposing old house. It looks haunted from the outside. I thought that should have been enough to scare me off already. But I was stupid then. From what happened, the orbit of my memory moved to Jerome. Is he still there? Or had moved to another dorm? Or if he's still alive and here on Earth in the first place. I remembered how he led me through the snaking stairways to his room. How he asked me to shush and to carry my feet so as not to rouse the others to wake. I remembered how we sat awkward, watching but not watching the TV. I remembered them all. Those were enough for a six-year overdue memory. I walked away.<br />
<br />
I don't know how to make out of it now that six years passed and one too many bottles of ARVs went to the trash bin. If you'd ask if there was a sense of regret in me, there's nothing--not even a dint of it. I always believed in the concept of happy accidents. For an existentialist, how I love to blame my faulty wiring to fate. I and Jerome still got to talk after my diagnosis in May 2011. It was that time when he told me he's already suspected that he had it but was just afraid. If only killing was legal, I would have bloodied my hand of his crimson at that time. But wherever he is, I still want to thank him, I guess. If it weren't for my stupidity and what he caused me, I would have not been where I am. Cheesy I know, cliche even, but that's how we romanticize pain to legitimize where we are right now.<br />
<br />
Ever since the family moved from Sta Mesa to Sampaloc, I already thought of revisiting that place again. You know, sometimes it's good to return to those old barns in your life just to find out if they scare you still. I guess that old barn of a dormitory, where angels cried during that fateful night, doesn't hurt now as much as I thought it will. Sure, there was that chill that crossed my spine. Sure, there was that utter disbelief that I'd get to see the place years after (I was secretly hoping that it was already razed to the ground and a new building stood erect there). Sure, there was the sudden confluence of memories flashing before my eyes. But I guess those were just but natural. After all, you do not look at a ghost and welcome him with unfolded hands.<br />
<br />
I was flooded with what-if's and the could've-been's on my way back home. I was looking at the street and not looking at it at the same time. I just snapped out of the daze when this young man--probably around my age--walking towards my direction was giving me a sticky stare. And, as we came shoulder-to-shoulder, a bated "Hello." He passed by and I surreptitiously turned around. I saw him cross the street towards the dormitory.<br />
<br />
I turned away, and didn't look back.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-74670441128830885402017-02-02T15:43:00.001+08:002017-02-02T17:22:49.011+08:00HIV screening and the hiring processBestfriend called up a while ago to just ask about things and update me on his job search. He's in the restaurant management industry and aiming for higher position.<br />
<br />
Throughout the conversation, he told me that this one classy cafe asked him to do an HIV test during the hiring process. I stopped him short and asked to repeat what he said. Apparently, even if he knows my condition, he doesn't know that what he underwent was illegal. So I told him to go in with how he went through the process. In sum, it went like this:<br />
<br />
He was asked to do a medical test with HIV test in it. It was done outside (I'm not sure if it was the diagnostics laboratory affiliate of the cafe with its hiring process). The HIV counselor did the routine interrogation as regards his last sexual contact. My bestfriend answered. He was told that if the medical staff won't give him a text message the following day, it meant that he was non-reactive; that if he received a text, then that was it. Following day, no text received. Just to make sure, he called the laboratory and indeed the counselor, through phone, told him that it was non-reactive.<br />
<br />
I could not but stress that what he went through was--under clear provisions of the law--illegal; that's clear under Sec. 35 of RA 8504. Bestfriend could not believe that it was illegal. I reassured him that it was unfair and illegal and I could not just imagine the emotional rollercoaster any applicant had to go through with that kind of policy. True enough, he was nerve-wracked during the testing because if the result comes out as reactive, he wouldn't know what to do and how to go on with the the employment process.<br />
<br />
I told him different scenarios--to attack and to defend--the cafe's policy on HIV screening during the hiring process.<br />
<br />
TO ATTACK<br />
1. It's no brainer under the law that what is prohibited and set down in clear words should not be done directly or indirectly. RA 8504 has a prohibitive provision, which means "Bawal gawin" (the antonym is "positive provision"). And I quote, Sec. 35: "Discrimination in any form from pre-employment to post-employment, including hiring, promotion or assignment, based on the actual, perceived or suspected HIV status of an individual IS PROHIBITED." (Emphasis supplied)<br />
<br />
2. It does not matter if the result of the prospective employee is non-reactive. Even if the result turns out negative, it is not an argument that no law was violated. Ubi lex non distinguit, nec nos distinguere debemus. Where the law does not distinguish, we ought not to distinguish. Since there is nothing set down in the law which provides for distinction, we should not create arguments that since bestfriend was found negative, then no law was trespassed. The only thing that the law prohibits is when there is discrimination.<br />
<br />
3. As regards, discrimination. One may argue that it is not the HIV testing during the hiring process that is prohibited. It is actually discrimination. Point taken. But that creates a confusion when the law is applied. Sec 3 of RA 8504 does not define what "discrimination" is, which makes things confusing. Because if, for example, X was found to be reactive after submitting himself to the medical test, and he was denied application to the job, since the law does not define what discrimination is in connection to HIV testing, it creates a legal loophole. The employer may reason out that the employee is not accepted because he fails in certain qualifications, when in truth and in fact, it was his status that was the basis of his non-acceptance. This is what we call in law as, "What cannot be legally done directly cannot be done indirectly."<br />
<br />
<br />
TO DEFEND<br />
1. The cafe is in the food and beverage industry. Perhaps the only reason they wanted to enforce such policy is not to discriminate but to actually enforce higher protection in food preparation. Since not all food requires exposure to fire which kills the virus (e.g. salad, drinks, etc) the cafe may have been only be well-meaning when it enforced HIV screening in its hiring process; this is to make sure that if a PLHIV will be employed, he will be given the best area to work on with lower risk of being wounded (i.e. knife cuts).<br />
<br />
2. The cafe may also be providing higher premiums to its PLHIV employees. The only course though that they may know who is positive from who is not is by subjecting its applicants to a screening. This is highly a conjecture and supposition. So even if my bestfriend is not applying for a position in the kitchen (he is applying a managerial/supervisory position), still he is asked to undergo the screening.<br />
<br />
The only reason that I can see where HIV testing in hiring procedure is defensible is when the HIV status imposes high risk on the job. The "rational connection" as the Labor Code provides. If there is higher risk of exposure to other people because of the job's nature, then HIV screening may be argued as to why it is needed. For example, when the job requires to deal with sharp instruments or food preparation or in healthcare or even in some industries, like bars or clubs or brothels, that is, the "entertainment" officers.<br />
<br />
<br />
WHAT IF IT HAPPENS TO YOU?<br />
Always remember that you have a choice to back out from the hiring process if it comes along with HIV testing. Once you submit to the testing knowing fully well that you are already positive and that the position you are applying for does not have any connection with HIV exposure, the employer may argue (if in case in the future you complain) that you WAIVED your right to privacy. Waiver of a right is a direct and voluntary loss of any future claims against someone. Ginusto mo eh. Bakit ka magrereklamo ngayon? So when it appears to you that you have higher risk of being detected as PLHIV, weigh your pros and cons. And when you believe that being undetected is more important than a job in that company, stop and discontinue the process. There may be loss of job opportunity on your part, but you still did exercise your right to privacy and confidentiality.<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. I was surprised and disappointed to know that that cafe is employing HIV screening in its hiring process. Okay pa naman doon.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-75978690172489834232017-01-03T19:02:00.002+08:002017-01-03T19:40:49.747+08:00abandonment to death<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Yesterday, I read Kuya Drew’s blog <a href="https://advocatehiv.wordpress.com/2017/01/02/rest-well-m/" target="new"> (click here)</a> where he recounted the
death of a PLHIV who was abandoned by his family and taken care of by the hospital staff until his death. The first idea that struck me is how could people, (relatives for that matter, and relatives by blood to underscore) turn their
back against their own? Obviously, it was distressing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I guess part and parcel of my confusion is my own
question. I was asking if there's a way, at least legally, for that to not
happen again or at least for the people to be reminded that it’s a bad case of
familial treachery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
There is nothing in Republic Act 8504 (HIV/AIDS Law) that speaks of penalties as regards abandonment. I turned to my Criminal Law books and remembered the
crime of “abandonment,” which is Art. 275, par. 1 of the Revised Penal Code and
which provides:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<blockquote>
Any one who shall fail to render assistance to any person
whom he shall find in an uninhabited place wounded or in danger of dying, when
he can render such assistance without detriment to himself, unless such
omission shall constitute a more serious offense.</blockquote>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
To my appreciation, the case of M cannot be a simple case
of abandonment. The elements of the crime do not fit the situation. If Art. 275
will be used, the prosecutors will look at Nurse Ann, because it was she who
found M. But she rendered assistance--heroically, I must say--so that takes off
Art. 275 from possible crimes that can be charged.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Also, a grand defense that may come to light is, “Is a
hospital an ‘uninhabited’ place? How will we define ‘uninhabited’ place?” The
wording of the law is clear. “Uninhabited” imports the idea that the place was
not dwelled upon permanently or temporarily.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We scratch out Art. 275. How about murder?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This is where the situation becomes sticky because I
assume there is no previous case of abandoning a PLHIV has been filed against
those who abandoned the person. Meaning, there is no “test case.” There is no
precedent. (At least that which I know).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Art. 248 of the RPC is murder. But before a person can
file a case of murder, the prosecutor will first “assess” the situation to check
if any of the six qualifying circumstances is present, to wit:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
1. With treachery, taking advantage of
superior strength, with the aid of armed men, or employing means to weaken the
defense or of means or persons to insure or afford impunity;<br />
2. In consideration of a price,
reward, or promise;<br />
3. By means of inundation, fire,
poison, explosion, shipwreck, stranding of a vessel, derailment or assault upon
a street car or locomotive, fall of an airship, by means of motor vehicles, or
with the use of any other means involving great waste and ruin;<br />
4. On occasion of any of the
calamities enumerated in the preceding paragraph, or of an earthquake, eruption
of a volcano, destructive cyclone, epidemic or other public calamity;<br />
5. With evident premeditation; or,<br />
6. With cruelty, by deliberately
and inhumanly augmenting the suffering of the victim, or outraging or scoffing
at his person or corpse.</blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Any of these six qualifying circumstance must be
attendant to the situation before murder can be charged
against the person who left M.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
Criminal law experts and opinion-makers will tell that “cruelty”
is not attendant to the case. Cruelty involves unnecessary physical harm--injuries
or wounds to be exact--inflicted against the person which led to his death.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I would say that if a person leaves a PLHIV in a hospital
for the latter to die, the complainants can use either “with treachery” (par.
1) or “with evident premeditation” (par. 5). Depending on the situation, I’d
see “evident premeditation” more fitting. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“Evident premeditation” has 3 elements which must be
fulfilled before prosecutors can use that to qualify the death of a person and to file
a murder case against the accused, to wit:<br />
<blockquote>
1. The time when the offender
determined to commit the crime;<br />
2. An act manifestly indicating
that the culprit has clung to his determination; or<br />
3. A sufficient lapse of time
between the determination and execution (to allow him to reflect on its
consequences).</blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
One by one, let’s do this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><b><i>First element: </i></b>The offenders can be argued to have committed
the crime at the time when the PLHIV patient was left in the hospital. For lack
of any information about the case, it can be argued that at the moment M was
admitted in the hospital, the persons have already known that M’s condition was
a situation that the relatives cannot admit; hence, death by intentionally
leaving M was the only way for the family. It is at the point when the persons
who left M were determined to commit the crime.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><b><i>Second element: </i></b>The offenders can be argued that they clung to
their determination in leaving M to die (as harsh at that). We can look at hospital records or even have Nurse
Ann file an affidavit to show if the hospital truly followed up the situation of M to his parents or relatives after they had him admitted in the hospital. If the relatives never
bothered acting upon the hospital’s follow-up, it can signify that they want to abandon him. It is at this stage that the hospital will be instrumental
in proving that there was "intention" on the part of those who abandoned to
truly say that M was indeed "left to die" despite calls of attention from the
medical staff.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><b><i>Third element:</i></b> The offenders can be argued to have left M for a
sufficient time. Case laws opine that three hours is enough to check if the offender
indeed wanted to carry out intention to kill towards fruition. In this case, if
hospital records will bear that there was time--sufficient and long enough--for
prosecutors to opine that indeed those who abandoned M was acting on an impulse
to leave him languishing in his death bed, then it follows that the intention
to kill is present.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
At present, my position is to use the fullest extent of
law to give the death of a PLHIV a semblance of justice here on Earth; and that
is to file a murder case against those who recklessly abandoned him. If a murder
case will not prosper, the prosecutor can always use homicide as a resort.
(Homicide and murder are cognate crimes.) <o:p></o:p>I could be that cold-hearted as well.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
One may ask, “Well, the relatives of M do not really want him to die. Why should we file a murder case?” The death of a person under the hands
of those who abandoned him (even if there are people, like Nurse Ann, who helped along the way) disregards “intent to kill.” The law provides that
only “by means of inundation, fire, poison… (Art. 248, par. 3)” must intent to
kill be present. In other qualifying circumstances such as evident premeditation, the intent to kill may not
even be an issue for the trial court to explore.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
As for who should file the case, it can be argued that
under the <i>doctrine of parens patriae</i>, the State (in the case, the People of the
Philippines) can initiate the complaint in behalf of M. The parens patriae rule
is used in rape cases and child abuse cases. It should be sufficient to argue
that it must equally apply in murder cases, especially in the stunning case of M who was abandoned to death.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
But the moral question here is will we allow an eye for eye
to turn us all blind? For leaving M to die, in what sense do we want those who
abandoned M to possibly languish behind bars? The law can be cold, especially criminal law which is frigid. But where do we draw the line between giving the death of the PLHIV justice and correcting the possible maleducation of those who abandoned which also needs equal attention. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Then again, what really bothers me is (arguably, family
dynamics, knowledge of HIV, and knowledge to access of healthcare considered)
why do we still have to use the threat of law as a motivation to help?
Shouldn't helping a person, who is already in the autumn of his life, a core of our humanity?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I slept at 11 p.m. yesterday partly because of the weight
that clung to my chest. I woke up at 3 a.m. still figuring out an evasive answer.<o:p></o:p></div>
Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-14048561734377147622016-10-06T15:29:00.002+08:002016-10-06T15:29:50.817+08:00from deathbed and beyondI was going boing boing boing at 4 a.m. a while ago because efavirenz high is taking over me. Until a fellow pozzie (let's call him A, hereafter) messaged me, "Si partner na stroke."<br />
<br />
There was a sudden stop to whatever fantasizing I'm having in my head. It turned out that what I read was real and A's non-positive partner is in the hospital's ICU--already revived twice.<br />
<br />
If that is not already heartbreaking, what was more devastating is that A (as I grasped it from his story) could be somewhere in the waiting room of the hospital because of a "family-only" policy. Sakit 'di ba? For eight years of love and bliss, still you are not a "family."<br />
<br />
At 4 a.m., while I am floating in my head with stupid ideations, here I have a friend whose heart is crushed when he told me: "I don't know what to do without him." The weight of those words decimated my entirety.<br />
<br />
It didn't take too long when I recalled this one discussion the class had in Persons and Family Law--area of civil law where we discuss relations of the family from cradle to grave. We were already at the last stretch of the course, talking about "Provisions on Funerals" when I, in my curiosity and operating from a same-sex point of view, asked my professor if only legal spouses are allowed to have the finaly say about the funeral rites of their beloved.<br />
<br />
My professor agreed. Jurisprudence-wise, the Supreme Court in the recent case of <i>Valino v. Adriano</i> (G.R. No. 182894, 2014), the Court said that "Even if a deceased person has validly expressed his wish to be buried at the mausoleum of his paramour’s family, the deceased’s legal wife has the legal right to bury the deceased elsewhere, because the deceased’s wishes are compulsory only with respect to the ‘form’ of his funeral" (Link <a href="https://philippinefamilylawperspectives.wordpress.com/category/funerals/" target="new">here</a>).<br />
<br />
The reason is simple: Philippine family law does not recognize common law unions, except in the case of co-ownership. But in the sentimental and often highly emotional area of funeral and last wishes, it will be the legal spouse which will have the final say.<br />
<br />
At this rate, who are those who should fix the funerals? In the strict order given by the Civil Code (Art. 305 in relation to Art. 199), the following are: (1) The spouse; (2) The descendants in the nearest degree; (3) The ascendants in the nearest degree; and (4) The brothers and sisters.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the "spouse" there must be the legitimate civil spouse, not the common-law spouse. So imagine yourself being entrusted with your lover's final words and after your lover's passing, you tell his mother (your "mother-in-law), "Tita, gusto daw po niyang ipa-cremate." With a blink of an eye, you can expect that what you just said will be thrown at the backburner because being only the gay lover of your gay husband, you are not the legal spouse. Sounds like, Mano Po, right? Yes'm.<br />
<br />
It's not a stretch of thought to consider that two men living under one roof beneath the banner of eternal love is still common law union. Common law unions are those only consented between two people without the benefit of any law. Short to say, they just shacked up; cannot avail of tax breaks, the surviving spouse do not have the strong right to enforce what the deceased spouse said in articulo mortis (at the point of death), and other benefits accorded to man and woman who tied the knot with the sanctity of law (i.e. civil union). Nil. Nada. Zilch. Because they're only common law and the law still looks at their civil statuses as "single" persons.<br />
<br />
The few slivers of my wakefulness went out to A and his partner on the context of civil unions. I've had too many what if's that tired my brain and fortunately lulled me to sleep. But the fact remains that sometimes, even if no matter how proud we are to put into Twitter trending #LoveWins, still Love is short when the might of Law is flexed.<br />
<br />
For common law unions (and here is where same-sex unions are right now because we don't have same-sex marriage or civil unions yet) even if, say, I can attest to the truth that my hubby wants to be cremated, I have no right if my words are pitched against the family of my lover, who may want the body of my hubby otherwise like buried in their family lot or wherever.<br />
<br />
My point being is, factor in the sentimentality of "til death do us apart" in most marriage vows, same-sex unions cannot fully have this advantage because Philippine laws do not recognize them. And I think that let alone the squabbling over tax, co-ownership, adoption and whathaveyou's, the bitter end of it all is that, isn't it human nature to leave our final words about what to do with our corpse to the person who has this infinite and immeasurable respect and love for us from deathbed and beyond?<br />
<br />
Let's not quibble over what it's supposed to be called: same-sex marriage, legal partnerships, civil unions. The lawmakers are off to that debate. But what we need just about now is the protective mantle of law so that at the end, whatever happen to our bodies, that one great love in our lifetime is honored enough to do it for us--respected by the people around us and supported with what the law vests.<br />
<br />
<i>P.S. A's partner is now in a better condition. And his story is posted here with proper permission.</i><br />
<br />
<i>P.P.S. Dami kong feels while writing this. Shet.</i>Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-63028424995411927432016-10-01T02:43:00.000+08:002016-10-01T02:43:06.899+08:00drunken ambitionI talked to a poz who was a former law student and somehow all the stress that I endured since the start of law school was validated. As much as misery loves company, blood brothers are thicker than water. Short of it, all this studying is really a CD4-count stressor. It's literally draining<br />
<br />
Just about right now, my lymph nodes are swollen again. No illness. No colds. No cough. I just figured while I was taking a bath that my nodes were swollen. I’m way past hypochondriac already. It’s wasn’t yesterday when I just submitted to the heaven that for whatever I have to endure, may the Heaven provide where I am falling short of.<br />
<br />
But this semester is just unbelievable pressure. Worth it, but stressful. As much as I’m keeping up with my academic demands, my insomnia has gotten worse from 4 a.m. to a sorry breaking dawn. I kind of pity-partied one afternoon when I had to absent for Civil Procedure because I really cannot get up. And that one time, also during a Monday, when I was awake for 40 hours straight.<br />
<br />
I told A that I have high regards for him for not bargaining his health. As for me, I do not know yet. I do not know the source of this illusory confidence that makes me overwhelmingly confident to put my health at the brink of what is also a noble pursuit to finish my legal studies. I just don’t want to feel cheated on an opportunity, I guess.<br />
<br />
I am in love with what I am doing. And in the advice of a good professor, I think I am still built for this because I cannot see myself elsewhere anymore. Even my gift for words kowtow with this study. Then again, as I told A (and as I am equally surprised for having said it) I hope this won’t be, in the end, a drunken ambition.<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>2.13 a.m.</i></b><br />
<b><i>Somewhere in Manila</i></b>Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-31047942939729605682016-09-07T00:47:00.004+08:002016-09-07T02:30:19.959+08:00unsent letter #1009I stand here before the acrid smell of flame as I watch in dismay your red flag hoisted over the horizon. A heart belonging to everyone; hence, to no one. What led me to this cleansing fire was a semblance of bliss. You, who are forever engulfed by the whirlwind of failed attempts, who caressed hearts because of your faulty devices--and mine too. Whitewashed walls insulating the entire forbidding of the city noise, the tolling of a portentous omen. Even my own conscience gone unheard against the faint ticking of these ungodly hours. But we were atheists; without god, just men, and our hands that snaked through each other's valleys which appeared to have been traversed a million times--well, a million it was, but by different snakes.<br />
<br />
I would have prayed and finally asked for God's forgiveness before making the leap of faith. I could have. I would have. I was willing. And still to this day I am. But as I stand before this pyre that will forgive my penchant to break hearts, and as well, will beatify the bottles of glue I turned inside out for putting mine back to its peace, still I am never too sure. Trust was something so inspirational it's priceless. But ours came in a box of three. Or at least, a better brand of it.<br />
<br />
<b><i>4:09 p.m. Somewhere on Taft Avenue.</i></b>Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-40645898898527701672016-08-04T11:17:00.003+08:002016-08-04T11:32:09.505+08:00re-stackedOne plus one is two. Two plus one will not always be three.<br />
<br />
I was reading <i>Resident Marine Mammals v. Reyes </i>during a <u>date*</u> because somehow he made me feel secure that even if I would go back to my reading in what is supposed to be a date, it doesn't matter to him. Somehow though, I feel queasy because I never learned how to divide my time between a person who I like who's just sitting across me and my work. Felt like every underline I make, I was moving towards the edge of my seat. I was gaining track in my reading when he said, <i>I'm not sure if this is the right time to tell you this.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
From those words alone, that seems to be a bad news. And bad news does not have any good time. I felt a cold fire draining in me. That "arctic perspiration, bugs in your feet, shovels in your guts" kind of self-awareness and said: <i>"Okay, c'mon let's hear it,"</i> I said. He fumbled for a while and guess what, I was thinking to myself, <i>"Please, tell me your positive too." </i>But of course that's long shot because I knew since that he was not.<br />
<br />
<i>I and my boyfriend are not yet technically off.</i><br />
<br />
<i>"RIGHT." </i>I placed back the cap of the pen, rested it in front of me, and God I was looking at him and at the same time can't see him. I rested for a good second trying to marinade myself through the words he just uttered. And somehow it felt like if I did one more underline on that paper right at that moment of revelation, the end of that stroke will push me off the edge of the universe.<br />
<br />
I'm no scene maker. In every problems I face I try to be very diplomatic, compromising and level-headed. Like every obviously nerve-wracked guy but trying to calm and compose himself, the first question is why. Finally, he opened up like a book. He toured me around the edges of his scars. He showed his vulnerable side (or at least he tried to because he said he never like looking like a vulnerable saint to anybody) and somehow I got it. But I saw how we both pined. How our pains showed in our forced smiles. Truly, not all smiles are happy ones.<br />
<br />
Of course, for someone like me who's really attracted to this sweet guy, I have to protect my lot. But it's no brainer. I saw the line, and being the would-be lawyer, right-versus-wrong, black-versus-white kind of guy that I am, I have to observe proper formalities. There is no dude in distress in this setup. There's no knight in shining armor. Only men who are trapped in what is a confusing and sad mid- to late-twenties dilemma.<br />
<br />
(Don't ask about us right now. I invoke my right to privacy and to be let alone.)<br />
<br />
Looking back, what actually makes me chuckle as I write this is that, somehow the order of problems that I can take has be shuffled. When he told me that he had something to tell me, the first thing that crossed my mind is he could have my condition too. But I was wrong. There was a far more unnerving problem that I could only imagine.<br />
<br />
I guess that's the beauty of time healing us. For one person, he's much equipped to handle a third wheel dilemma than the guy he likes having HIV. But since it's been years that I have this condition, it's like the order of the "problems-I-can-handle" has been re-stacked. Imagine every kind of problem as a piece of wood in Jenga and HIV is now at the topmost. It's not as crushing as it was before. It's not hard for me to accept someone who has HIV anymore.<br />
<br />
But surely, there are more problems to this world. I still can figure in a sideswipe accident as if I'm walking on the blind side of the road.<br />
<br />
====<br />
<br />
Yesterday night, I'm reading <i>Ui v. Bonifacio</i>. I know the story from before because it was already used as a reading in one of our classes. I laugh at the humor the world is telling me.<br />
<br />
Essentially, what happened is Carlos Ui told Atty. Iris Bonifacio that he is single so they hit it off and had two kids. Later on, here comes now Leslie Ui confronting Atty Bonifacio and revealing to the lawyer that Carlos is a married man. Upon knowing the truth, broken and damned Iris fled to Hawaii and cut off all his relations and connections with Carlos, save it for the necessary support and filiation over her two daughters with Carlos. On the other side of the world, Leslie, a woman as hurt as Iris is, filed a disbarment case against Atty Bonifacio for immorality.<br />
<br />
The Supreme Court ruled that Iris needed more compassion than condemnation. Reminds me of Haruki Murakami's line in <i>Kafka on the Shore</i>: "In travel, companion. In life, compassion."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Now tell me: should I head now for Hawaii and clear my head? Haha!<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">*<b>Date</b> /n/ : I am all about semantics. I don't call the first meet-up as "date." It's only a meet-up. So since I used the word "date" it's not the first time we went out. The connection is somehow there. We're just trying to figure things out.</span>Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-66303578016216530032016-07-30T14:58:00.002+08:002016-09-06T18:11:03.445+08:00unsent letter #0913Dear You,<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how many times someone wrote you a letter on a random blog. And I hope it is as frequent enough so you can tame whatever thunder it is in my chest right now. I hope it is as frequent enough because I do not know how to handle myself right now the moment the sunlight seeped through my window.<br />
<br />
There's a different kind of pain in my left wrist. When I would rotate it, it gives off a certain kind of mild discomfort. And a certain kind of addiction. An addicting pain, if I must say, that if I forget its feeling, I'd rotate my wrist again and welcome the sedating anguish it brings. Sometimes, I would want to feel a controlled level of pain to know that I'm alive.<br />
<br />
At this hour yesterday, all my senses are heightened. Notwithstanding the film before us, I was searching for you through the dark. But I wasn't looking at you. If I must say in the creepiest way you can think about me, I was figuring you out through the blindness. I was listening if you were breathing. I was catching the air around you, searching for your scent that mixes with popcorn in the air. (You see, I have always believed that the sense of smell brings the most nostalgic memories of all the senses.) And I was at the edge of my existence whenever you'd shuffle your feet, as if two more layers of myself need to restrain me. I don't know why. Or maybe I do? Ask my wrist.<br />
<br />
You see, it took me months to be there before you. For the longest time I taught myself to make amends with the man who I really am, the man I am afraid of. The same man who held hostage my heart and the only bargain that I have to do to get it back is to promise him that I will take care of myself, of my heart, this time. That I will keep it behind high walls and just allow it to spend a quiet time on its own.<br />
<br />
But yesterday afternoon, my walls were breached. Every piece of brick is giving away. The fault line that is my chest starts to move: as you breath, as you chuckle, as you shuffle your feet, as your scent descends, as I see some of your wounds throughout the afternoon. You see, it is hard to leave a man in peace when the war is something in him. And I cannot demand any apology from you. I brought it upon myself. Or maybe, I wasn't too strong for myself. I could have pacified myself for the stir you bring in me but I cannot blame you for starting the silent wars in me over something as natural as the way you exhale. It is no one's but my fault. I wasn't too strong for you.<br />
<br />
So allow me to pine in the most gentleman of way. To begin myself with a prayer each morning, asking God to shut down my inner eyes. Because my memory searches for you in the orbit of your absence. The way you smiled. The way you looked far off as if gazing at a lingering thought that appears 50 feet away from you. The way your face caught the yellow somber light of the cafe. Or how honest you are as you tell me about the wounds of your heart.<br />
<br />
I could only hold back myself for far too long. I could only keep my pretensions at bay. When you asked, "Ihahatid mo ko?" God knows that I would want to even there right before your doorstep, even if it takes me past midnight. But my angel was alarmed that I could be heading off to a ravine that I cannot climb out of. So I'd rather said I'll just walk straight ahead and find my way back home. You should have seen how a legion of God's army saved me from a portentous crash. So I went on to choose what's right over what's happy. I always do. And you know what? It sucks most time.<br />
<br />
You do not owe me an apology. I owe myself one. I owe myself for being too overconfident enough about my feelings, about my gilded lies, about my cocky idea of self-preservation but allowing myself to be a bait for the trap. For an ISTJ, I was overwhelmed by you and so my Thinking flew right off the window only to find myself drowning with so much emotions in my chest I don't even know how to stay afloat.<br />
<br />
A while ago, as I lay in bed, drenched in a late morning thought, I asked myself, why does it rain? And for some goddam reason, I thought, maybe because the sky has taken so much water and magnificence out of the sea, that all it wants is to embrace the vast blue, but his reach couldn't hug him; and for that failure, he weeps; it rains.<br />
<br />
The sky is dark. Probably it will rain again. Maybe the sky just wanted to be thankful for seeing so much beauty from the sea, it doesn't know how to pay back because it is afraid of himself. It made a pact with the universe not to dip itself too close to the sea lest the cosmos would turn topsy turvy. So he allows it to rain. To remind himself of his beautiful hurt. Like the pain in my wrist whenever I'd rotate it: a pain that resembles my defeat whenever I'd remember how you smile, how you smelled like, how everything in you was too much for myself.<br />
<br />
So you see, should we meet again, and see me rotating my wrist, humor me. Do not ask. Do not point it out. Act as if you saw nothing. I just want to make sure that I'm alive, that I know how pain feels like and how remembering you when you're gone, when some Friday night is over once again, should be as natural as the rain pouring.<br />
<br />
Drenched,<br />
MeNeonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-4240848887081639502016-07-26T17:53:00.000+08:002016-07-26T18:04:32.457+08:00the manBe afraid of the man who you really are. The one that lurks in the crevices of this city at broad daylight. He who waylays past the corner of the street waiting to ambush you with the truth you hide so well. Be afraid of him whenever you go out with your friends on a Saturday night. Whenever you're asked about the matters of your heart, you scoff. A scoff that laments the history of your jaded heart. A scoff punctuated by a manufactured strength, a strength, or a pretense which prophesies to the world that you need no loving arms to caress you or to listen at your whims before he doze off to sleep.<br />
<br />
But that man who you really are, the man that peeled himself off of you, oh he, he laughs at you with derision. "Are you kidding me?" He knows you melt whenever you receive a random message from a boy. He knows you trail off with wishful thinking. He knows and has observed how you bleed with pride. He knows your truth. He knows that for every scrub of soap you do when you take your morning bath, you cannot wash off your desire from your skin. The man who you really are knows how many lies got stuck in your throat, how you reel in surprise whenever he doffs his hat to greet you on a random night through an attractive face, how many songs you still want to believe that underpins love as your prime virtue, how you pine for a name, how bad you want for Pandora's box to finally open itself wide and find love with his strong hands receiving you.<br />
<br />
Be afraid of the man who you really are. The tall, lanky man that trips you whenever you feel like everything is falling in place. He who tucks you in at night with a blanket of thoughts. The things that you repress hence the things that you dream about. He who has bloodshot eyes and grating voice. He who taunts at all your bedtime prayers, saying, "But by Jove, I am your final honesty alight in the dark." Be afraid of him. For only you know him. And he knows you. And your lifetime familiarity has bred loving contempt between the two of you, especially when you and him meet eye to eye before the mirror.<br />
<br />
Be afraid of him. No one else but him. No one else.<br />
<br />
And for all this pretense, I am, and always been, afraid of him.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-81308646346615652132016-05-21T15:22:00.001+08:002016-09-06T18:10:27.840+08:00unsent letter #5430: An Open Letter to the HIV Negatives I will Reject in the FutureDear You,<br />
<br />
I am issuing this apology because I know by the time I suddenly went dead in your radar, I haven't given you an explanation nor a clue about my sudden coldness and eventual disappearance in your life. You see I have a Ph.D. in slinking away through the night from a person whose attraction is too enormous for me, and what I only have for him are a couple of pennies and dimes.<br />
<br />
But for you, yes you, you beautiful healthy HIV-negative you, I have nothing to offer you except the silent footfalls or the ominous clinking of the wind chimes upon your door frame or the last cryptic text message. And suddenly I'm gone. I am writing this to calm my nerves, to put up my defenses that what I did is right because I know I will be leaving you without any closure whatsoever. And I hope that by writing this, whether it reaches you or not, I may pat myself at the back for doing what's best.<br />
<br />
At this point, you Sir and I may have gotten past our second date, or have had hundreds of text messages sent or have labored through phone calls lasting until the larks lift the dawn. It doesn't take a genius at this point that somewhere along the lines of our chuckles and hair scratching, the taming process has begun for the two of us. But suddenly I have left you. Not because you're too chatty for my introversion or your flawed (who is not?) or you don't come at par in some of my "Future Boyfriend" checklist. Sometimes, and on this occasion, it's just me.<br />
<br />
Everybody stands to be rejected. So much so that it sometimes becomes the core of shame and lack of self-confidence. I have you to know though that for someone like me who's grappling with the love department, I would have not spent so much time with you if I don't like you. I do like you. But I guess, "we" cannot be a word in our dictionaries.<br />
<br />
I have my ways of knowing if you want to enter into a relationship with someone like me, a person living with HIV. Of course, take it from me, I'm not going to drop that fact as soon as we start talking. But I assure you I'm extra-sensitive about your position about this health issue. I will listen closely and intently about how you perceive this reality and maybe I can know how you would deal someone like me who is a PLHIV.<br />
<br />
Or, if you don't tell me outright, I will have to do it stealthily. I will resurrect names or scenarios to pick your brain out. Maybe I'd tell you (or have told you already) that I am having a dilemma about advising a friend who met a guy who's PLHIV. Maybe I will tell you that my friend likes this PLHIV guy but is afraid of a possible commitment. And somewhere between the lines of hope and fear, of wishing and denying, I will solicit from you a "false" advice which I can give my "friend."<br />
<br />
I'm sorry if I have to do it covertly; that is the only way for me to have the purest form of your position about love and HIV, about entering into a relationship with a guy like me. And if I surmise that you fear into committing yourself with a PLHIV like me, what is there for me to hold onto.<br />
<br />
I may have not given you the benefit of the doubt, I may have not heard you before I arrive to a decision, I may have banged my gavel one too quickly--because what are the possibilities that I could be your exception to the rule--but the lethal venom of truth cannot be made any gentler by the contortion or bargaining of truth itself. Truth, like bad news, comes boldly; no good timing is enough to prepare for it.<br />
<br />
It is for this reason that I have to resort to self-preservation: to preserve you, to preserve me, to prevent us. I could not anymore offer an explanation for walking away because that would defeat my desire to keep my status under wraps. I will just walk away. In the middle of the night. From you. Without a word. The deadest of the night always cloaks whatever intention man has for another. Good or bad, the night remains amoral, conniving, therapeutic. But know in my heart of hearts, I could have wished for you and I. But my walls stand in the way.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry if I have to reject you. I know how bloody rejection could be. A good soul tarnished with his crimson tide all over him and feel unworthy. Rejection never comes easily that it becomes the core of shame and lack of self-confidence. But it was not you that I rejected. It was us. If only things were different, I would have not thought twice. Why pile up the walls around me for someone who wants to knock on my door and offer a heap of his soul?<br />
<br />
You will never understand why I rejected you when everything seemed to have blossomed. But know that if there were already tiny confessions or bare admissions like roses or petunias or fire trees blooming, they all still grow outside the fortress of my heart. My heart is a secret garden and all my histories built around me high walls. I do walk outside for the sun, to entertain you as a gardener, but my walls remain here to preserve you. My rejection is a self-preservation thing.<br />
<br />
So take heed of this: if I reject you, it's not as if I can walk away without any limp or laceration. You are too good that your stars do not deserve an inch to be blackened out. My rejection will first hit you and it will furiously drive itself home to me with a booming thud in my heart.<br />
<br />
So I'd rather take the pleasure of being the traitor, the Judas, the "<i>pa-fall.</i>" I'd rather take the hit of furious words and never mumble a thing for whatever frustration or pain I may cause you. I'd rather take arrows than have you dragged into this black hole, which even sometimes I am finding it hard to climb out of. You have your light and I'd rather you keep it steadfast for the right person. I am not the right person, and only I know and will ever know that.<br />
<br />
I wish you the best and the fittest of health with someone you can always turn to without reproach. Because the last thing I can do is to make you feel as if every kiss is a risk.<br />
<br />
<br />
Gone,<br />
Your Could-BeNeonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-86906464911192143092016-04-05T01:32:00.001+08:002016-04-05T01:43:02.945+08:00case doctrines in escarcha caseThese are the case doctrines--meaning, the teachings which the Supreme Court have laid down in a certain case--in <i>Escarcha v. Leonis Navigation Co. Inc. and World Marine Panama, S.A.</i> <b>(G.R. No. 182740)</b>.<br />
<br />
Read the full text of Escarcha case <a href="http://sc.judiciary.gov.ph/jurisprudence/2010/july2010/182740.htm" target="new">here.</a><br />
<br />
The <i>Escarcha </i>case is definitely ruled against the PLHA who already passed away at the time of the ruling. Fair warning, reader: cases filed before the Supreme Court are always read as if such is the first time. So, if there will be another HIV/AIDS-related case that the Court will decide, the <i>Escarcha </i>case is not an automatic <i>stare decisis</i>.<br />
<br />
Here are the case doctrines of Escarcha case in relation to our Labor Laws (again, only in relation to Labor Laws):<br />
<br />
<b><u>1. The general acceptation of Republic Act 8504 (HIV/AIDS Law) is that no discrimination in the workplace should exist.</u></b><br />
Section 35 of RA 8504 provides that "Discrimination in any form from pre-employment to post-employment, including hiring, promotion or assignment, based on the actual, perceived or suspected HIV status of an individual is prohibited. Termination from work on the sole basis of actual, perceived or suspected HIV status is deemed unlawful."<br />
<br />
<b><u>2. Substantial pieces of evidence will refute the liberal construction of the Labor Code and special labor laws in favor of employees.</u></b><br />
Any conclusion that the the courts or quasi-judicial agencies arrive at with the proper application of the law cannot be swayed by the intent of our laws and jurisprudence to be read liberally in their application to our overseas Filipino workers. Liberal construction is not a license to disregard the evidence on record or to misapply our laws. Stated otherwise, if an employee is found to be transgressing laws despite his condition, the Supreme Court will rule against his favor even if the RA 8504 aims to protect PLHAs and the Labor Code provides protection to employees.<br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
<b><u>3. Acquisition of HIV/AIDS due to an incident which is not work-related is not compensable, as an exception to RA 8504's general acceptation of non-discrimination. Stated otherwise, any demand of benefits as regards HIV/AIDS against an employer should be work-related.</u></b><br />
Death arising from a pre-existing illness, like HIV/AIDS, is not compensable or rewardable especially when it is found that the illness was suppressed or undisclosed as a means to circumvent the law to gain employment. Even if RA 8504 includes "post-employment" as a phase where a person living with HIV/AIDS (PLHA) cannot be discriminated against, if an employee acquired HIV/AIDS through sexual relations with an infected person and not because of his working conditions during the employment period, benefits cannot be rewarded.<br />
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<b><u>4. There must be a rational connection between the worsening condition of a PLHA and the work-related condition or environment the PLHA is in.</u></b><br />
AIDS is not listed as an occupational disease both under the Philippine Overseas Employment Agency-Standard Employment Contract (POEA-SEC) and the Employees Compensation Commission (ECC) Rules. Thus, the claimant (<i>e.g.</i> the employee with HIV/AIDS or his/her heirs) bears the burden of reasonably proving the relationship between the work of the deceased and AIDS, or that the risk of contracting AIDS was increased by the working conditions of the deceased.<br />
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<b><u>5. Employer not liable to pay benefits against a PLHA if there is circumvention of the law on the part of the PLHA to gain employment.</u></b><br />
If an employer has come to know of an employee's HIV status long after the employee was employed and whose progression did not result in the worsening of his condition--as HIV is a disease of the immune system that does not progress to the point of attracting opportunistic infections until the immune system has substantially been weakened by the progress of the disease--the employer is not liable for any benefits due the employee, who did not suffer the illness due to work-related reasons.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-38821148857147880522016-03-21T08:00:00.000+08:002016-03-21T10:24:54.120+08:00world poetry day and HIVIn celebration of World Poetry Day, here's a blackout poetry on HIV. It's my first time to do this. I found it quite hard because there is just so little to work with. Unlike freestyle poetry where I would just sit to contemplate for the right word, blackout poetry already serves the word making the serving limited; and in that limitation, I had to make sense.<br />
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I used the book of Greg Louganis, the famous HIV-positive American Olympic diver, titled <i>Breaking the Surface</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYp0bi9mkj1CBBW5yt4QhNvOvTZkfvCeEHalVkYr47n3Nx9gT0HCS6Ww4uVlv-M4OO8sP6G8zp1MGoGp8LDHZQ1lqBhr50CYtgwAozne4IfF75hGfuw_X9fpJnIjRcB0VJWD2Yq4e_NU/s1600/Blackout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYp0bi9mkj1CBBW5yt4QhNvOvTZkfvCeEHalVkYr47n3Nx9gT0HCS6Ww4uVlv-M4OO8sP6G8zp1MGoGp8LDHZQ1lqBhr50CYtgwAozne4IfF75hGfuw_X9fpJnIjRcB0VJWD2Yq4e_NU/s640/Blackout.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><u>LIVING WITH HIV</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I had accepted that I was afraid</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when I really didn't want</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
HIV, a dumb secret </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was sure to be a scandal.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yet HIV was no way to be.</div>
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It turned out I had it together</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
all on my own, one cold morning.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I wanted to scream at my life,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to be thankful and to stop moaning about</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the weather.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Postscript: All rights of the book goes to Mr. Louganis and his publisher.</i></span></div>
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Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-38816259146822644492016-02-19T03:38:00.001+08:002016-02-19T04:21:42.173+08:00on enrile and LGBTSomeone needs his jail time back.<br />
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It's not for me to lose patience over political issues. I can say that what with my limited patience have for our politicians, I still can spare deep sighs and heaving breaths to understand where they are coming from should they issue some statements which are highly controversial.<br />
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The whole Twitterdom exploded when Pacquiao made that scathing statement against the LGBT community. But really, it's not Pacquiao that I want to talk here, but the old man beside him. The old man who, for the amount of luck that he has for being a nonagenarian, now has the liberty to issue another pathetic statement if it were not for the Supreme Court to accord some due respect to him.<br />
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Sen. Johnny Enrile was quoted by Rappler as saying that <a href="http://www.rappler.com/nation/politics/elections/2016/122803-juan-ponce-enrile-lgbt-community-pacquiao" target="new">members of the LGBT may go find "another planet" to live.</a> If that suits him, fine, I think I'm better off to some Goldilocks planet. But what I find highly incredulous is his statement that Manny Pacquiao will win even if the entire LGBT will not vote for him. There may be truth in that, yes, but only "<i>may</i>."<br />
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True. It may be true that that the entire LGBT electorate is too insignificant a number for Pacquiao to prevent Pacquiao from snagging a senatorial seat. But what is good Enrile missing out on is that the LGBT is not the entire electorate. "Common sense" (pun intended) dictates that there is no gender requirement under Batas Pambasa Blg. 881 or the Omnibus Election Code for an individual to be a voter. Inasmuch as college degree and only an ability to read and write makes for a decent qualification for elective officials, the same vein that no gender requirement is imposed on a voter. In the same vein, no <i>"specific-vote for clause" </i>is in the Section 117 of the Election Code. Nary there is a statutory provision pointing for a voter to specifically vote for someone. It doesn't take a genius to know that we can vote for whoever we want and not vote for who we do not believe deserve our exercise of suffrage. It doesn't take a genius. That's "common sense" (again, pun intended).<br />
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Just plain logic. Any registered voter can or can not vote for any <i>senatoriable</i>, which means even a straight person can <i>not </i>vote for Pacquiao. This leads to a nothing but a mere exercise of syllogisms, permutations and premises that even your mother or father or grandfather or grandmother may not vote for Pacquiao. What loss Pacquiao may have with what the entire LGBT community not voting for him may suffer the same with straight people should they choose not to believe in Pacquiao.<br />
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What point that Enrile is sorely missing is that if straight people gets tired of all these crass and sick political circus vis-à-vis gender issues, any straight man or woman who are compassionate enough to align with the sentiments of the LGBT community on the most humanitarian basis of social justice will jeopardize Pacquiao's higher ascent to the Senate given that the LGBT are not the only electorate but also the straight community. Plain logic <i>lang, hindi ba</i>?<br />
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No provisions in law and in jurisprudence hinders a straight person from not voting a specific candidate. That is the very essence of right to suffrage and political exercise. It may be true that it is a fancy thought for the entire electorate to revolt against a candidate who does not support LGBT causes but the possibility is always there because it is not only members of the LGBT who vote but straight people too.<br />
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That's why reading the news piece, I really find it quite taxing, why Enrile, for all the mental tenacity that he has displayed both as a statesman and as a lawyer, have not thought of that. But the question is: should Pacquiao be really threatened by such possibility of straight people not voting for him? Two scenarios: the ideal and the real.<br />
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The <i>ideal</i>, he should be threatened. Because what with Pacquiao has done at the heels of his damning statement to put the fire out of the emotional wildfire already eating up people's chest, here comes Mang Johnny who is terribly worsening things. Instead of trying to help Pacquiao boost the Boxer's image as an apologetic athlete, here you have a senator, a former military official, an alleged crook and an extraordinaire macho philanderer taunting the populace that his bet can win the elections without the LGBT's help. And if get in the nerve of the straight people and incest them, they will only belatedly realize what bad mishap Enrile did for not shutting up when good opportunity calls for it.<br />
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The <i>real</i>, he shouldn't be threatened. <i>Firstly</i>, Because Manny Pacquiao has cemented himself as a national icon in this society too soft to be reminded of its transgressions against its people. After more controversial issues pick up the primetime news, everything will be forgotten and Manny Pacquiao will always be known as the boxer, not the senatorial candidate who issued a statement too unfitting for a legislator. <i>Secondly</i>, we have a culture of misguided electorate. We confuse national agenda with candidatorial prominence. We confuse legislative performance with regional biases. We confuse great mind with great names. We are a confused electorate--easily bought and easily swayed. (Trust me, I've seen worse during elections day because of my previous work.) And that confusion never allows us to hold on to whatever fear or anger that we have against an unfitting candidate. At the end of the day, when the Internet hubbub died down and the ebb of the political tsunami has receded back to the abyss of pardon and parole, we forget and default to being confused again.<br />
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This is why Enrile has had the opportunity to make his statement in the first place. Because we forgot the allegations surrounding him. We forgot about--at this point allow me to legally talk--the strict applications of the Revised Penal Code. The Supreme Court ruled that <a href="http://cnnphilippines.com/news/2015/08/19/juan-ponce-enrile-bail-supreme-court-sandiganbayan-graft-and-corruption-pdaf.html" target="new">because of Johnny's old age, he should be given the chance to be excused from serving his temporary jail time</a> while his plunder case is being heard. No intention to criticize the collective wisdom of the Supreme Court but the application of Article 13 (mitigating circumstances) in the bail petition is, in my humble submission, a stray application. In effect, we ushered into a novel jurisprudence and case law--a bad and dangerous precedent at that, and made the equal protection clause under the Constitution questionable? Is it only because of "humanitarian consideration" should Enrile be given the standing in law to not serve his detention when in fact, plunder is a non-bailable offense; and the Sandiganbayan dismissed the bail petition?<br />
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I still cannot understand why the majority reached that decision. <a href="http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/714894/sc-justice-blasts-enrile-bail-grant" target="new">Asked, I'd rather side with the minority.</a> Anyway, it is already an operative fact that Enrile is out on a hefty bail and now challenging gay people to go find another planet. Tongue-in-cheek, why won't he go back to jail first, before I dispatch for another planet? <i>Quid pro quo.</i>Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-88093702622476809092016-02-07T18:30:00.003+08:002016-02-08T01:02:13.477+08:00compulsory testing?<i style="font-weight: bold;">What about compulsory HIV testing in extreme cases?</i><br />
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One kind soul approached me at <a href="http://www.planetromeo.com/HIVLaw">my PlanetRomeo HIV account</a>, let's call him <i>F</i>, and asked about the early symptoms of HIV onset. Since I am no doctor but a disciple of law, I could not be too exact as to what the "symptoms" are regarding HIV. HIV could be asymptomatic. But it could also show early signs when we are properly informed about HIV literature as applied to how raunchy we are in bed.<br />
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Fast forward, I told <i>F</i> that I had rashes back then in my chest area which actually were not itchy. He inquired if I have had fever. <i>None</i>, I said. The conversation went on and finally into its climax. <i>F</i> said that his late partner died, but up until now he and the people around him and his late partner cannot be fully sure if it were AIDS behind the late partner's passing because the significant other refused treatment. Even refused to take the HAT or the HIV Anti-bodies Test. The only speculation he had, and mine as well, was that it was AIDS as it already shown dire complications (as what <i>F </i>told me at least). I asked <i>F </i>if he tried talking down his partner to at least get an HAT; he did to no avail and no change of heart. One then can only speculate as much--even the doctors who I think at that moment had the hunch--because the patient waived his right to treatment. At that point and on hindsight, I saw how doctors could be bound by what is only permitted by the patient. A more existential question then: In cases like that, where do we draw the line for doctors to truly heal and to strictly adhere the decisions of their patients? I am in absolutely no position to answer.<br />
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Enter law. It is well-within the Philippine Patient's Bill of Right for a patient to refuse treatment, as can be gleamed in paragraph 5, "The patient has the right to refuse treatment/life-giving measures, to the extent permitted by law, and to be informed of the medical consequences of his action."<br />
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But, take heed readers of the one important passage: "to the extent permitted by law." That is an important statutory phrase in paragraph 5 because then we ask, which law permits refusal and which law overrides a patient's refusal to treatment? I think there is none yet to date because it would be highly controversial to think of the least if a doctor, who in his utmost good faith and impelled by the good intent of the law, to do what the patient otherwise permits.<br />
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Apply it to the scenario of <i>F</i>'s partner, what if his doctors, with their healthy medical reasoning, conducted a HAT despite the stern refusal of the patient? Would that be allowed?<br />
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Be that as it may, weeks passed and <i>F</i>'s story had me thinking, what if there is a law that actually does not permit refusal of patient as regards their care management when life and death is on the line? Are we to look at it on a moralistic viewpoint or on a legal philosophical view of crafting laws for people's sake? I bet it would be a tough consideration because moralists have been on the look out as regards our health laws in this country.<br />
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It fancy me to think about the unpopular opinion. Let's give compulsory testing a chance to save lives in dire cases of death. But right now, no law actually permits that unsavory opinion of mine. The rule under the Philippine HIV/AIDS Law (Republic Act 8504) is that it is prohibited to conduct compulsory testing. The last thing I've heard as regards development of RA 8504 is an amendatory bill filed by Rep. Teddy Baguilat of Ifugao province. As to the bill's content, I am not privy to it.<br />
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But again, take heed, because Sec. 2(b)(1) of RA 8504 admits of an exception to prohibition against compulsory testing, that is, <i><u>unless otherwise provided in this Act</u></i>.<br />
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Down in Section 17 of the Act, there are three instances where the Act <i>may allow </i>compulsory HIV testing: criminal charge of rape and injurious substance; relevant issues as regards the Family Code; and compliance as regards organ and blood donation.<br />
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The exceptions, in legal parlance, methinks, are not a closed-list exception, which means, instances to allow compulsory testing may still be added as lawmakers have the good faith to include those new instances as worthy exceptions, and, in my whimsical thoughts, <i>in articulo mortis</i>.<br />
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The way I see it, if our lawmakers only have the balls to consider--of course, always reaching out to public consultants and experts--the need to have a compulsory testing to determine if a patient's disease is caused by HIV, it will make care management more efficient. Of course, what is only made compulsory is the testing, not the treatment. If after testing and results showed that the patient is reactive to HIV anti-bodies, then this information may be used to properly inform the patient of his situation. Only then will the patient be allowed to choose whether to opt for treatment or not because with HIV now a reality after testing, doctors can now move to explain how HIV in these day and age can be manageable as diabetes or hypertension.<br />
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What is important, methinks, is that there is a testing done <i>per se</i>. This may give the patient a new perspective as to his survival if done with the guidance of doctors. Unlike if the testing--not the treatment--is made to depend on the decision of the patient, doctors have no slim chance to fight for the survival of the patient. Doctors are immediately bound to wait for the patients to die.<br />
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Surely, after testing, and reactivity, a patient can still choose whether to move on to the treatment. If he opts to, good. If he doesn't, the doctor has done his fair share.<br />
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If this is the way, we can save people such as <i>F</i>'s partner. If we are to include <i>in articulo mortis</i> as an exception in RA 8504, we can save lives. And since the Patient's Bill of Right is a general law, and HIV Law is a special one, any first year law student will know that special law overrides a general law.<br />
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If this is a way to save lives and truly make doctors as lifesavers we can fancy the thought of how long the shot is and try to shorten it by making it a reality. This is where HIV/AIDS and law intersects. This is HIV policy-making and lawmaking. This is where the law can actually respond to a medical phenomenon.<br />
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So I ask, how about compulsory testing <i>urgente mortis periculo</i>, any takers?Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-61329938235687647472016-01-15T01:29:00.000+08:002016-01-15T01:32:03.228+08:00i'm on TwitterYes, I am still alive and kicking. But this blog has been seeing a dearth of content, not because overcoming HIV meant the end of milking the Muse of Tragedy. The hectic schedule of graduate studies just do not permit that extra time.<br />
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I'm on Twitter: @hivlawstude<br />
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I cannot promise a more vibrant online presence there but yeah, if you have queries, maybe we can hear it out there. Salut!Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-81481732427631902202014-11-02T23:30:00.001+08:002014-11-03T01:32:11.696+08:00dreaming a dreamPart and parcel of the silence here in my blog is due to professional studies. The last five months was spent memorizing provisions, reading Supreme Court cases and consistently asking myself whether what I opted in my life was the best decision of all. After rebounding from HIV depression, I knew that everything was back to normal; and the dreams are back afire.<br />
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My truer friends who know my condition were more concerned than I am after I told them that I would proceed to law school: "Isn't it bad for you to be stressed out given your condition?" I actually pondered about it but would I want HIV to punctuate my ambitions in life? I guess then when it comes to amoral choices, we shoot in the dark. So shoot I did.<br />
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The two weeks that passed was spent unwinding. It is the semestral break, although since Monday, I started prepping for second semester. The sheer rote learning employed in law school is so burdening and mentally taxing, notwithstanding that humiliation is a tool of instruction, that sometimes the destination is too far from where I am that it bogs me down. Don't get me wrong. With a costly tuition and a costlier-than-the-usual set of books, the destination will always be relative to the journey.<br />
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In short, I feel like giving up. I feel like there is always an easier way out. That I could just sedate my ambitions. I hope I don't cross anyone. For someone with HIV, there is always that gray area in my brain where I keep on telling myself that I have to compete with my May 2, 2011, the date of my diagnosis. I don't have to prove things to anyone, but I am mandated to beat the hell out of my having HIV to prove that I can do things. Then again, when the going gets tough, the tough quibble at times.<br />
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But somewhere in the vast uncharted corners of the universe comes wonder. I get to receive emails from people regarding their conditions. And all of them are about employment issues. Truth be told, I cannot answer them with precision everytime. But for these generous email senders who placed their trust on me, I could not thank you enough for making me realize why I want to be a lawyer in the first place.<br />
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At the time when I was about to take the law school application test, there was a question that asked the applicants what kind of legal field do we want to specialize on. I ticked, "Labor Law." I dunno why that choice given that Criminal Law and sending people to rot in jail appealed to me back then more than anything. But I also already thought too that as the number of PLHIVs increases, PLHIVs will encounter work-related issues, whether unjust termination in work, insurance coverage, immigration issues, mandatory testing, etc. I could just ask you to watch Tom Hank's Academy Award-winning performance in the 1993 film <i>Philadelphia </i>to get my point.<br />
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A while ago, under the spirit of unfettered brazenness and grandiosity, I scoured the Internet to know which American schools offer a Health Law track in their Master of Law degree. There are Georgetown and UPenn that licked my interest.<br />
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The Philippines could do so much better if we have a bevy of lawyers adept with health and HIV laws that could tie them with labor, immigration, insurance or even adoption and family issues, on top of human rights, among others. Imagine a free legal assistance group for PLHIVs and whose lawyers are not just gays but who are PLHIVs too, a circumstance that will not hinder people seeking help to pour out their concerns; won't the country be a better place? Ah, the beauty of dreams!<br />
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Then again, tomorrow will be the start of the next semester and for now I still have years to burn. Since 2011, what I have proved is that it is us who kill our dreams or let our wounds remain unhealed in open air. We, not HIV.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-2855899152294094892014-10-18T02:55:00.000+08:002014-10-18T23:04:21.785+08:00overcoming HIV depressionA Sober's Guide to Overcoming HIV Depression<br />
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<i>Foreword:</i> No proven effect but it's worth the try. Last time I was in PGH, there's a form asked for me to be filled out. It's a correlation between depression and HIV. And if results show that I am depressed, the kind student said that I could be referred to a psychiatrist for proper consultation and guidance. So I answer the test and voila, not depressed. Below are the things that I thought would be nice to share for those newly-diagnosed PLHIVs. These are exclusively from my experience so I am sure some things won't apply to you. But you consider, maybe it's bound to help one way or another.<br />
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1. If you suspect that you are at risk of contracting HIV, get yourself tested. Running away from HIV test--and in the long run from your status--won't make you feel any better. If it gets down to it, not taking a test in spite of perceived risk on your part will only make matters worse. You will feel good by not knowing your status (out of fear) only for a moment, but when the systemic symptoms are already showing, it's gonna be tough.<br />
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2. Get help. I will have a solid stand on this: Family-first policy. I know that we have different domestic setup and that some HIV positive gay men are still in the closet but if you can, get help from your family. If you think your family just won't understand you, reach out to your close friends. To whom you will get help and support is a judgment call.<br />
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3. Do not seclude yourself. It's not entirely about <i>having </i>HIV. It's about <i>knowing </i>you have HIV. And when you know you have the virus, it sets a trainwreck of depressive thoughts in your head. The more you seclude yourself, the more the devil is playing with your idle mind. Go out there and find distraction.<br />
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4. Pay your Philhealth account. Every HIV positive here in the Philippines knows how important Philhealth remittance is. If you're voluntarily paying for your contributions, better. Because at least you are keeping tab of it. If your employer are always late in remitting your contributions, make sure that your local treatment hub knows about it so you can prove that you are not remiss with your obligations, but your employer is. This is to let them know that the remittance of your premium contribution is not within your hands anymore.<br />
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5. Share your experience. It need not have to be with a company. Much better if you can volunteer, but if you don't, keep a blog, a social media account or an open line for pieces of advice. For all we know, a newly-diagnosed HIV patient who is depressed and lost may be out there. Keeping a journal of your transformation and coping mechanism will help them. Do it for them.<br />
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6. Pray. In deference to apatheists, this one is entirely personal and subjective. Then again, go there and renew your sense of faith. The bitter part of acquiring HIV, especially in the Philippine context where male-to-male sex is the most viable transmission, is that it seems to be looked upon as a maleficent karma on our promiscuity or lack of sexual restraint. Renewing your faith, as I can attest, will dampen the stigma associated with the condition. In times of moral danger, sometimes the best hope is to cling to the Man Upstairs. If you know deep inside you're sorry and willing to change, no amount of stinging remark will ever get you.<br />
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7. Drink your ARVs as soon as possible. When I was diagnosed back in 2011 my CD4 count was well above the 200-mark. My doctor gave me an option, which means that I can defer drinking my ARVs. But I asked for her honest-to-goodness opinion and she recommended to discount the figure and push on with the ARVs. I did. Now, I am back within the healthy range.<br />
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8. Be fit in all sense and aspect of your life: physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Go hit the gym. Help other people. Do away with stressors. Hush a prayer. Sleep long. It's not necessary for you to go on a Juju cleanse or a six-pack abs. Just make sure that in common human experience, you are functioning well. Don't just settle with "Yes, I'm okay." Make it, "I feel damn alive."<br />
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9. Instead of asking why, ask how. Finding out you have HIV won't turn the movement of tides. It's already there. As defeating as it sounds, asking why won't do anything good. <i>Why </i>prompts us to look for answer. Sure we can ask that but it is dangerous to be fixated to looking for answers that won't come a day after, a week, a month or years. Our having HIV will make sense when we have already change our inner core. How do we change our inner core? How do we stop from poisoning our thoughts with hopelessness? Simple, ask <i>How? </i>How can I move on? How can I move past the situation? By asking <i>how</i>, we look for solutions more proximate than the answers that would fill our <i>whys</i>. <i>How </i>elicits action. <i>Why </i>hopes for a distant answer. Action to <i>how</i> is more at our disposal than answers to <i>why</i>. At a time when we are at the most vulnerable, ask yourself, "How can I rise up from here?"<br />
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10. Forgive yourself. You have a special circumstance as to why you contracted the disease. Maybe you've had unprotected sex. Maybe due to syringe sharing. And all sorts of reasons attendant to it as well: apathy to condom use, lack of knowledge about HIV, misinformation about transmission, or simple carelessness. Whatever those are, it's good for you to look back and admit it to yourself that you erred, that you've had a lapse of judgment, and you know you could have done better. You can only do so much running away from your mistakes. Time will come, it will catch up on you. It will be better if once in a while, you admit that you made a mistake. Forgive yourself first because in so doing, you befriend your past. Your mistakes will not haunt but actually will guide you in arriving at a wiser and more mature decision when the situation presents itself again: "I will use condom always. I'll be very picky with my sexual encounters, if not keep my sexual encounters to a low. I will make a conscious effort by not infecting others." When you forgive yourself, you're bound to be kinder and more gentler with other people. And it will make you want to preserve those who are not yet infected. Forgive yourself, because it's the only way to carry the burden of your past and make them light.<br />
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They say that the toughest battle belong to the strongest soldier. If any, we should look at HIV as a chance to pull ourselves together and redefine our lives. HIV is human immunodeficiency syndrome. Right. But I'd rather make a more positive note out of it. HIV: Here Is Victory.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-17790170804399320042014-06-05T02:26:00.000+08:002014-06-05T02:26:10.350+08:00giving backA life-changing event will happen this June and it will necessitate me from sinking into the depths of oblivion. In this vein, I could not promise to at least monthly update this blog (though I do hope I still can). I have had been once out of the radar here, so repeating it would be easy.<br />
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Then again, to those people who are losing hope, especially the newly-diagnosed who stumbled upon this blog, or anyone wanting to have a sort of lifehack on how to go about with this condition, I am opening up my email to take the stead of my would-be moribund blog life. Right there beneath Dr. Freud's quote is everything you need to know.<br />
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I hope in the littlest of my way, I can share what I have experienced and am still going through in this second lease of life, a phase that started three years ago. I cannot personally volunteer for and involve myself in a support group because I am menacingly shy in person. So, I will allow you to drop a message and hopefully I can respond within arm's reach.<br />
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And if I can give one really, really important advice to the non-positive and still healthy individuals out there, especially to Filipino gay men: <b>Please, if you can't discipline yourself--where I have failed in-- don't be sexually involved with just about any other guy in Planet Romeo or just about any other gay dating sites. </b>This isn't a smear campaign against the website, because, agree or not, this blog won't change anything in there.<br />
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I know that there is Abraham Maslow to defend your need for sex, but rusty as the adage is, the person who so deserves your naked body should see first the nudity of your soul. Stay away if your dickhead and your brain are switching places, with the former lording over your entirety.<br>
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No matter how unpopular my decision, I will tooth and nail recommended against social networking sites because despite the Department of Health being one-too-careful in admitting that these seedy sites is "just one" of the vectors of increasing HIV numbers, I could say that it is the biggest factor why men are having the opportunity to have sex with men. I could just look back to some three years ago, my stupidity coupled with raging hormones, and my gay, reckless and wanton need for carnal desire to defend my case.<br />
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Beyoncé may have <i>dodged the bullet </i>better than I did, but it is in this picking up of a fractured soul and the healing of wound I can certainly give back.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-19937015043727847702014-05-23T03:01:00.000+08:002014-05-23T13:38:19.307+08:00hospital buddyThe homily of the priest reminded me of the boyfriend.<br />
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It's been more than half a year since H.S. and I got together. I've known him from three years back since the day I admitted to him that I like him (What gall have I, no? Lol.) and I never thought that the second time is sweeter.<br />
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He knows I am HIV positive. I disclosed my status. He needed no less than transparency and I owe him full disclosure of the events past. He accepted me and my 206-pound baggage, and until now I never thought that someone so amazing like him could see past through me and share this magnetic relationship so resplendent and beauteous.<br />
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I usually don't write about my happiness (hence the long hiatus) because you know how sometimes diabolical and diabetical love could be and I want to spare you from all that. But I come to write about it now because there's this one "mysterious" thoughtfulness that he always do to me.<br />
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I've been in and out of PGH-Sagip for the last I'm-too-lazy-to-count years to the point that I have already had three medical fellows graduated and a bunch of nurses known. Short to speak, I can go to Sagip alone because it has become a routine. Even if that means only getting my refills, updating Philhealth documents, which takes no longer than 20 minutes. I can even manage a routine check-up on my own.<br />
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That changed since we became a couple. He would always make it a point that he will join me in Sagip regardless of my agenda and regardless of how much time we will spend there.<br />
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So it came that the former solo wait became a pair. Though we would talk under whispers or him going over his phone and I with my book while waiting, the scene has changed: I am not alone anymore.<br />
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For the many times he was with me in PGH, he could have just stayed at home, gone home to rest after a day's work or minded his own affairs, but the pigheaded in him wants to join me in PGH.<br />
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"I want to be always there because the hospital is a scary place and I don't want you to be alone." That he would always tell me whenever I'd ask him why the needed company.<br />
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Believe me, it is heartwarming, but I too would not want to be the demanding partner. H knows that I will understand him and find it okay if he will just stay at home.<br />
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I left his answer like that for the longest time until a while ago. Thursday. The novena of St. Jude was on and the priest gave a moving homily.<br />
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Linguistically-speaking, the priest tells that the Pangasinenses (the priest being one) say "help" as a noun just like the Tagalogs do, which is "tulong." But the verb form is different. Pardon me but I forgot the exact word. I think it's imaanan ta ka or imanaan ta ka? I cannot recall anymore.<br />
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The point being is, the dialect provides a more fraternal meaning in the verb "to help" to the Pangasinenses. He said that in their dialect, the verb "to help" also means "to accompany." So if one would say "I will help you," it's pretty much like saying that "I will accompany you." Hence, the dialect reflects that to help (tulungan) means to accompany (samahan) the one who needed help.<br />
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The homily reminded me of the boyfriend and his vague (at least for me) answer to my question. I never knew that the answer lies in a different tongue. That he is helping and accompanying me at the same time.<br />
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I left the the district of San Miguel, Manila in a reflective state, smiling bashfully knowing that my question has been answered twice: by the boyfriend and by the heavens. And in that drop of a subtle answer from the heavens, my case is closed. The hospital buddy is here to stay for too long a time.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3567496153123062985.post-73204635902682667662014-02-24T20:48:00.003+08:002014-02-24T20:48:59.364+08:00HIV and employmentTo anyone here in the Philippines, I just want to know what's out there.<br />
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Have you heard of or witnessed any incident of employment regarding HIV condition? Among others, <i>but not limited to</i>:<br />
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a.) denial of work promotion due to his/her condition<br />
b.) enforced work demotion due to his/her condition<br />
c.) denial of medical procedure and/or hospital admission by an insurance company in line with HIV-related medication<br />
d.) <b>mandatory </b>HIV testing for pre-employment<br />
e.) continuous non-remittance of the employer of Philhealth contributions (this is pretty much a perennial problem)<br />
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Or perhaps, your experience not necessarily listed above that concerned your condition with your present employment.<br />
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Names are not needed to be divulged.Neonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16269772887830418135noreply@blogger.com0