SABURO SHARES HIS STORY ‘I’ve loved, I’ve lived and learned’

I vividly remember the night in August 1996 when my American foster parents broke the news to me about my Mexican-American girlfriend Zikie Rodriguez. It was about 6:00 p.m. and I just came home from school.

We were having dinner when I sensed they were trying to tell me something but they were groping for the right words. Finally they said Zikie, who was rushed to the hospital a day before, had already died of AIDS. For a few moments, I felt numbed. I could not speak and tears started rolling down my face.

I immediately called up my sister Obi in Saipan to tell her about Zikie’s death and how she died. She tried to calm me down as I cried on the phone. And then I went out for a drive. I didn’t know where to go. I was so confused.

A few minutes later, I found myself standing at the Golden Gate bridge. With the cold evening breeze touching my face, I stood there crying. I felt so alone. I was afraid. I knew suddenly and quite certainly that I will die in the same way. I thought of losing my family, my shattered dreams and the shame of having the disease that will eventually kill me. I wanted to jump off the bridge and end my life. But I changed my mind as I thought of my family back home who loves me.

Lovelife

I met Zikie in the University of Berkely, California where we were classmates, taking up education. I just got a divorce when I left for the United States in September 1987 to pursue further studies and nurse a broken heart. So when I met Zikie, I felt I’ve found the woman I would want to spend my life with for the rest of my life.

We were so in love. We were even planning to get married in 1994. But then I held back because my sister and my mother advised me to wait until I finish my course.

After graduation, Zikie and I planned to get married in Saipan, start a family and teach in one of the schools. I have always wanted to become a teacher and I love kids.

One day, I called up Zikie’s parents because she has been absent for two days. Her parents simply told me she was down with flu. However, her condition got worst and they had to rush her to the hospital. The following day, she died.

For a long time, I was mad at Zikie for lying to me about her real condition. How could she have done that to me when I trusted and loved her so much? I realized now she was trying to tell me something when we were still together because there were times she would talk to me about AIDS. I would just simply say I won’t get it because I am loyal to her and I don’t play around. One time, I discovered some medicines in her bag and asked her what they were for. She simply said they were just contraceptives because she did not want to get pregnant.

Anger

I did not even talk to Zikie’s parents or meet them when their daughter died. I was very angry.

Instead of going home, I decided to work as a volunteer with the Brotherhood of HIV/AIDS Organization. This helped me a lot to understand the disease, how to deal with it and expect the different stages that a person with HIV will go through before it becomes a full blown AIDS.

After one year of volunteer work, I decided to go home in January 1998 without telling my family about my real condition except to my closest sister Obi. I had myself tested in Saipan and the doctor told me what I had suspected all along — I was HIV-positive.

The following month, I got very sick but I refused to be brought to the hospital. I don’t want my whole family to know about my real disease because I do not want to cause them any embarrassment. But my sister, who pledged to guard my secret could no longer take it, she rushed me to the hospital since I found it hard to breathe.

I was surprised to find myself still alive afterwards. I promised myself that as soon as I feel better, I will do something to warn other people about this disease.

Two months ago, my sister Obi and I decided to tell the truth to our family — that I am not sick of cancer. My parents and brothers and sisters cried when they found out what I have been hiding from them all those months. We hugged each other and cried. They assured me that they will still love me no matter what happens.
Suddenly, I was relieved and I felt safe.

Campaign

Now, it is almost two years since I was seriously ill and brought to the hospital. I am still here, still living, still loving. There are some inconveniences. Every morning, I have to struggle getting out of bed. My vision is blurry, my muscles ache and I tire easily. I’ve lost a lot of hair. My weight dropped to 159 lbs. from 285. I am now gaining weight again. I take 10 types of medicine and one anti-biotic in the morning and evening.

I have been advised to religiously take medicine. Never skip a moment. Otherwise, the doctors would have to give me a new set of medicine.

As I take my medication, I recall how Zikie would insists in going home first before sleeping with me and leave very early the following day. I guess, she was trying to hide from me all those medicine that she had to take.

It is no joke to be infected with HIV because the cost of medication is so high. Thank God, I am under Medicaid. For one year, my medical bills range from $125,000 to $175,000, which include payment for services of a doctor, counselor and therapist.

My mood swings are so erratic, there are times I simply do not want to see or talk to anybody. Luckily, my family understands so they leave me alone. There are times they try to make me laugh.

My decision to come out was partly influenced by former Guam Senator George Bamba who was also found HIV positive. He has been carrying out a campaign against AIDS and has encouraged me to do the same.

Of course, my family serves as the biggest inspiration why I have decided to reveal my life. They want me to help warn the people about the dangers of having HIV/AIDS because they do not want the same thing to happen to others especially to my nephews and nieces.

This also fulfills my dream to teach since I will be telling them everything about the disease as I share my story. I am ready to die now. With my new role, I am doing what I have always dreamed of — help the community that took care of me. I know now that there must be reason why this has happened to me. I’ve loved, I’ve lived and learned.