Why I wear a red ribbon
On AIDS - the reason behind the red ribbon
Maybe my friends are wondering why my blog is wearing a red ribbon, it is because I care. I'd like to share some excerpts from a true story by Debbi Hood Johnson :
I Wear A Red Ribbon
by Debbi Hood Johnson
People often ask me why I wear a Red Ribbon. Some people ask the question simply to find out what the ribbon means, but other people are really asking a hidden question: they wonder what experience in life has moved me so that I would want to wear a Red Ribbon, a visible reminder to all who see me of the continuing battle against HIV and AIDS. They are asking why I, a white heterosexual female in the heart of the conservative South, would choose to take an often unpopular stand, instead of quietly going about my life. Unknowingly, they are asking about my husband, BJ.
BJ made me his wife, but AIDS made me his widow. He died in my arms at 1:45 a.m. on Monday, May 17, 1993, in the little white house we had moved into only two days earlier. Surrounded by packed boxes filled with our books, our music, our photographs, and other mementos of our life together, we lay in the dark on the hospital bed provided by Hospice. Consumed, at this point, by massive brain lesions caused by PML (Progressive Multifocal Leukoencephalopathy), Beej had lapsed into a coma hours before.
Earlier that day his wonderful parents and our supportive friends, our "family of choice," had come, encircling his bed to say their soft good-byes, kiss his cheek gently, and whisper final messages into his ears as the room began to fill with the loud, bone-chilling sound of fluids collecting in his lungs as he struggled to breathe.
In our private final hours, I sang to him, prayed over him, and recited the 23rd Psalm over and over as I carefully brushed his long hair. I reminisced aloud about how we met and some of our favorite "heart snapshots"-- those special memories and private jokes and tender moments we had shared for so long. I chose to believe BJ could still hear me through the curtains of his coma.
As I sang one of our most special songs to him, I suddenly noticed my voice was no longer competing with the loud gurgling "death rattle" of BJ's breathing. I sat up on the bed and saw that his eyes were open-- he was looking at me. I knew he could really see me once again and that he could see that I was truly with him until the end. His face looked so serene, with a slightly lopsided grin.
"Go ahead, sweetie," I whispered hoarsely as I held him, "it's okay to let go now." As I kissed his lips for the last time and felt his life leave his body, my hand stayed on his chest, where his body heat remained the longest. I sobbed as I felt the chill spread; the warm spot over his heart grew smaller until it was no more. Another brave warrior in the fight against AIDS had fallen.
Why do I wear the Red Ribbon? I wear it because I CAN. I am still alive, still able to carry the message about the reality and urgency of AIDS and how HIV can be prevented. I carry this message for those whose voices can no longer be heard but whose presence can still be felt. What message is that? I carry the message-- to all who will hear AND listen-- that HIV/AIDS is, at this point, 100% FATAL... but it is also 100% PREVENTABLE.
- persons who have families and loved ones,
- persons who have dreams and hopes and fears,
- persons who laugh and cry,
- persons who deserve the same respect as you and I.
The Red Ribbon simply means that I care.
Debbi lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she has been an AIDS educator/counselor for eight years. She is currently writing a book about her husband and their fight against AIDS.
[I'm no expert, but I'd be happy to answer any questions that I can answer about AIDS. myoce]
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