Remember those of us living with AIDS on World AIDS Day and every day

Another World AIDS Day is almost upon us and “crickets.” As a 30-year-plus survivor living with AIDS, I feel as if we’ve been ghosted. The red AIDS Awareness ribbon has faded to pink.

Living half of my life with AIDS, I remember there used to be AIDS walks. There used to be HIV+ support groups. There used to be HIV/AIDS Healing Weekend events. There used to be songs of support — remember Dionne Warwick and friends singing “”That’s What Friends Are For”? Now, as a “young” senior citizen, most of my contemporaries are dead.

So, I dutifully take my daily drug regimen of 27-plus pills, one epipen, get my blood labs drawn, do the MRIs, X-rays, ultrasounds and attend virtual doctor visits. I wear my mask in stores and on the bus. I maintain a clean apartment. I make my own meals. I can walk, woundedly unassisted, to the bus for grocery shopping. I have not been hugged since COVID hit. No one visits, not even biological family members. I can’t visit them since an uninsured driver totaled my car.

I am blessed, or so it goes, until it doesn’t. I have a cat.

Robert W.Toth,

Lakewood