20, medical assistant
We spoke with Christopher twice: in 2013 at the General Hospital and in 2014 at the Ti Kay office. After the medical staff at Ti Kay introduced us, Christopher met us with a warm, open smile that faded as he told his story, which includes contracting H.I.V. at birth. The virus can be prevented from passing from mother to child during pregnancy and delivery, but access to appropriate medical care to prevent H.I.V. is not available to all even in Haiti, which has excellent H.I.V. care in many settings.1
2013
My name is Christopher Deragon. I’m eighteen years old. I have TB and H.I.V. I was eight years old when I first got sick. I was in the third grade. I had to leave school because I became really sick. I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I was afraid of needles. My dad first took me to the General Hospital. They didn’t want to take care of me. So we went to Cange.2 Then we went to Petit Saint-Joseph. We also went to another Catholic hospital. No one knew what was wrong with me. I used to cough a lot, and my eyes were swollen. I couldn’t eat and I was really weak. I had a fever, and I had diarrhea. My stomach was hurting too. Then one day I was in the kid’s ward at the General Hospital, and Dr. Coffee saw me there as she was walking by. She said that I was her son and took me with her. When I came here to the main TB ward, Dr. Coffee took care of me. She put me on some IVs. I was eleven when I first found out I have H.I.V. A doctor told me. I was really sad. Then Dr. Coffee told me too. She told me not to worry, she would help me.
I was born in Pétionville.3 My mother died of AIDS when I was one. My dad took care of me when I was a kid, but he doesn’t come when I’m here. I don’t want him to catch the disease too. If he does, he might resent me for it. I don’t live with him anymore. I went to see him this week. I gave him some money because he was there for me ever since I was a kid. He tried any hospital he knew of, so that I could get well. He said he couldn’t do anything for me anymore. I would like to be placed in an orphanage. I don’t have a mother, and my father doesn’t want to help.
I take one pill each night, a big white pill. Only my father knows I have H.I.V. If I tell other people, then they stay away from me.
You look sad. What’s wrong?
(Crying) When I talk about it or hear people talk about it, I feel like committing suicide. People say that I’ll be humiliated.
You see that the treatment is working.
Yes.
But you still want to commit suicide?
Yes.
Do you think about it a lot?
Yes. A lot. Because I don’t want to get humiliated. I don’t want people to tell me to get away from them or don’t play with them. That’s why I don’t tell anybody.
2014, EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER
My name is Christopher Deragon. I’m twenty years old. I’m still taking the pills, and my doctor is paying for my rent and my food. I live on Aviation Road with three other people. They all follow the same treatment.
I’m still discouraged with life. I don’t like it when people are looking at me and ask what’s wrong with me. I tell them to mind their own business. Sometimes people from my neighborhood mistreat me. They don’t want me to touch them. I have to stay away from them. I have one friend that supports me. And I have my dad. He still lives in Pétionville. I don’t see him often, but we talk on the phone. I wish I was somewhere where I would not be able to hear any noise. I do not like noise.
I work with Dr. Coffee. When she goes on her rounds, I go with her. I buy stuff that she needs and I help her around. Dr. Coffee is taking care of me. When I tell her I am hungry she says she knows. If God didn’t send us Dr. Coffee, many of us would die.
Dr. Coffee said when she has her clinic, she’ll give me a job there. But I don’t want to depend on someone for the rest of my life. I would like to have a trade. I would love to read. I don’t really want to come to this hospital every day. I wish I had something else to do. I am not doing it for anybody but for God and Dr. Coffee because she helped me a lot.
Last Friday, I went to GHESKIO for a blood test.4 It was positive. That was hard to hear. Other people took it, and it was negative. I knew it was going to be positive, but still, people were looking at me. I was talking to a girl whose results came negative. It was tough. The doctor at GHESKIO said that they will change my pills. I agreed because I want to be healthier. He told me how important it is for me to take the pills. He said my CD4 was low, but I don’t know what that means.5 They tell me that I will stay alive as long as I take the pills. But you may come next year and find out I am dead.
I don’t think so. Is that what you want?
I’d like to die right now.
How long have you been feeling that way?
Since 2010.
With your treatment, you can live until you are old. Do you really think that when I come back you won’t be here?
I do think so. I asked God to let me die in my sleep. I don’t pray about it. I would go to church, but I don’t have any shoes. I don’t like going to church in just any way, with my sneakers. I want to wear slacks and shoes to go to church.