In 1985, when I was 24 years old, I was diagnosed with ARC – AIDS Related Complex. Those were sad and scary times. The doctors told me to “get my affairs in order.” There wasn't even AZT yet, and President Reagan wouldn't say the word AIDS till the late 1980's. Guys who could were going to France and Israel for experimental treatment.

Sometimes the only social gatherings we had were in hospital rooms and memorial services. So many of my friends died. I don't know why I was spared. I miss my friends, and find it easy to become isolated and reclusive. I get blue and angry at times.

My parents were kind and loving. I know it wasn't easy for them – my father was a clergyman. I hope I have been able to repay a small amount of the compassion they showed me.

I try to be at peace as much as possible, and I work at being a kinder man. I don't succeed as often as I'd like.

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