AIDS epidemic in the USSR

When an adult suffers a childhood disease it is extremely painful. Just as it happened to me at the end of Soviet times when I got measles, it was three days with a 40C fever heat and died. But then a doctor came diagnosed with the rubeola, I was taken to a specialized hospital and kicked and kicked in a few days.

I will never forget those three days – a terrible headache, general confusion due to high temperature and no three thoughts in three days, but that of a quick and longing death. In the hospital I met a man of about 50, who told me his story. Further story comes from the first person.

I’m not young and my age often meets clubs to complain about their illnesses. Some have sores, others. Printing problems, etc. And I’m sitting like an asshole and can not roll the ball because it does not have any serious illnesses. At last I got sick, which made me really happy. “They will heal me,” I thought. “I will eventually have a good reason to beat my bait with gum.” I found myself in a contaminated isolation section of Botkin’s surround, only by those with Joe Proud, where everyone carries their own altar in their arms. I also gave my own altar. I really joined the club. They analyze me but can not find anything. At those times there are first reports of HIV positive people in newspapers. The first one, as far as I remember, was a fellow of the foreign trade organization – a homosexual. It was the only association with AIDS. After a diagnosis was not made, the doctors decided that I had AIDS. And I started the question. “Suppose you sleep with pants, get clean, we are doctors.” I deny it, but they do not believe me. They say, “Come on, sir, we keep medical secrecy.” So, pass a week (in three weeks I gave up).

I come to my doctor and say, “Well, guys, diagnose and treat me, I can take it tomorrow, or I’ll jump out of the window – can not stand it anymore.” The next day they keep a regular advice when a pediatrician makes a mistake. After I investigated, his rubeola, without visible grains, diagnosed for some reason, which made the diagnosis fair. The previous day I was brought here and now I’m good. The only thing I worry about is that it is even embarrassing to tell men of my experience – they discuss different serious ailments there and I have a childhood disorder that is ashamed to speak of late personal altars and how they I passed a torch. Then I have to hold my tongue.

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