Personal Essay

Hope via rage

I cannot say how much of a relief that was. I also can’t express how much rage I felt. Rage at the world. Rage at the society that tormented, taunted and jeered at people who were dying from AIDS. Rage at people hiding behind their religion standing at the edge of AIDS walks and candlelight vigils yelling at us that they all deserved to die. Rage at the nature of life and death in general. But mostly at myself.

Poison Air

I could hear the urgency as Mom and the other woman talked; I don’t remember, but I think I just didn’t care enough to strain through the fog to hear what they said. There was activity around finding the nearest hospital – needing it to be Kaiser (our insurance), and orders that I had to stay awake.