Culture,
Communication
and the
Quality of Life of People with HIV
Analysis of the focus group discussions resulted in three
primary findings regarding participants’ response to the WHO-QOL facets and
domains. First, although each facet is given relatively equal attention in the
questionnaire, participants in our focus groups regarded some factors as
dramatically more important than others, and some facets from the questionnaire
were seen as relatively unimportant. Figure 1a and 1b (Appendix) show the result of the content analysis of
participants’ responses to the WHO facets and domains. The factors participants
most strongly associated with quality of life were as follows:
It should be noted that the last factor, financial problems,
is not even included among the domains and facets on the WHO/QOL-HIV/AIDS
module.
The second important finding relates to the relationships
among these factors. Rather than discrete issues that are experienced and dealt
with separately. participants’ portrayed these issues as closely interrelated,
their perceptions of one factor invariably affecting how they viewed other
factors. Rarely did the discussions fit neatly into the domains and facets
provided on the questionnaire. Instead, talk about one domain or facet
frequently tended to spill over into talk about other domains and facets.
The category which was linked most strongly with the most
other categories was disclosure. In
fact, issues regarding ‘who knew and who did not’, ‘how much they knew’, ‘how
they handled the information’ and ‘whether or not those who did not know might
find out and how they might react’ were at the center of discussions of nearly
every aspect of the PHA’s Quality of Life.
Figure 2 (Appendix) shows the strength of association between disclosure and the other facets. The
facet most strongly associated with disclosure was social, cultural and familial roles. Other facets strongly
influenced by disclosure were work
capacity, managing medications and
treatments, social inclusion, the
ability to deal with symptoms and side
effects, the ability to access services
and care, and sexual relationships.
Disclosure was also the facet mostly
strongly related to negative feelings
like anxiety, anger and depression.
Finally, for all of the facets listed above, what seemed to
concern participants’ most was not their material dimensions, but their social
dimensions. Talk about medications and treatments, for example, tended to focus
more on the disruptions that taking medicine (and concealing it from friends or
family members) created in participants’ social interactions, and negative
feelings were seen mostly as a consequence of being unable to fulfill certain
social or familial roles, having to lie to friends and relatives, and the pressures
associated with managing one’s identity in the social world. In contrast to the
structure of the questionnaire which presents social relationships as a separate domain, participants in our
study portrayed every aspect of their Quality of Life as somehow mediated through social relationships,
and it was the degree of success they felt they had in managing these
relationships which determined how they judged their Quality of Life and their capacity to overcome barriers to
improving it.
This view of Quality
of Life as a social rather than material construct was mirrored in the
empirical themes that emerged from the data. Among the topics which
participants brought up themselves, the topic of relationships recurred most often and was talked about the most. Among
the relationships mentioned, the one given the most attention was the PHA’s
relationship with his or her family. The next most talked about relationships
were those with nurses and doctors and other PHAs. Other important
relationships included those with parnters, friends, social workers, employers
and colleagues and volunteers from AIDS service organizations. Other important
themes that emerged from the data were acceptance,
both from others and ‘self-acceptance’, the effect of attitude on how PHAs managed their condition, particularly in
regard to discrimination and stigmatization, various coping strategies used in interactions with others, and the stress
brought on by change and uncertainty.
Despite a fairly consistent correspondence among groups
regarding the categories they gave the most attention to, there were some
differences in the amount of attention given to these categories among PHAs,
professional caregivers and non-professional caregivers, and among PHAs
themselves based on their sexuality, the length of time since their diagnosis,
and their ethnicity. All of the groups gave approximately the same proportion
of attention to medications and
treatments, HIV related symptoms,
and negative feelings (although the
things they said when addressing these facets were often very different).
Attention to some other categories, however, was widely variable among groups.
PHAs and their friends and family members spent significantly more time talking
about disclosure, for example, than
did professional caregivers, and professional caregivers gave much more
attention to the relationship between sexual activity and Quality of Life than did either PHAs or their spouses or partners.
Among PHAs themselves (see Figure 3, Appendix), perhaps not
surprisingly, Chinese participants devoted more than ten times more of their
discussions to disclosure than
expatriate Western PHAs, talked about social, cultural, and familial roles
nearly three times more than expatriates, and discussed availability and quality of care more than twice as much.
Expatriate PHAs, on the other hand, talked much more about HIV related symptoms, medications
and treatments, chances to acquire
information and skills, and body
image. The Chinese participants, in other words, were more likely to focus
on the social problems of living with HIV, whereas Westerners focused more on
physical problems and medical solutions.
Gay PHAs talked about disclosure
slightly more than straight PHAs, one reason being that disclosure of HIV
status also often involved considerations about disclosure of gay identity. Gay
PHAs also gave more attention to personal
relationships and medications and
treatments, but discussed social,
cultural familial roles only half as much as their straight counterparts. In
contrast, heterosexual PHAs gave relatively more attention to social, cultural and familial roles and social
inclusion, along with availability
and quality of care, work capacity
and financial issues. Both gay and
straight PHAs gave about the same amount of attention to sexual relationships.
There were also differences in the amount various facets
were discussed between PHAs who had been diagnosed within the last two years
and those who had been diagnosed two or more years ago. Recently diagnosed PHAs
gave more attention to clinical results,
sexual activity and social inclusion, while those who had
been living with the virus longer talked more about HIV related symptoms, diminished work capacity, and death and
dying. The largest discrepancies between more recently diagnosed PHAs and
those who were diagnosed more that two years before was that those who had been
living with HIV longer talked more than twice as much about disclosure, while more recently diagnosed
participants expressed negative feelings
nearly twice as frequently as longer term survivors.
By far the most significant factor affecting the Quality of Life of the PHAs in our
study, especially Chinese PHAs, was disclosure.
The degree to which participants felt able to disclose their sero-status (as
well as other aspects of their condition like the probable source of their
infection, behaviors or identities associated with infection, whether or not
they were experiencing pain or other symptoms, and to what degree they were
able to adhere to their drug regimens) to friends, spouses/partners, family
members, social workers and healthcare professionals was portrayed as affecting
nearly every aspect of their lives from sexual activity to access to care. ‘The
worst thing about AIDS,’ said one participant, ‘is that we can’t tell others
that we feel uncomfortable since we are unwilling to let them know we have the
disease’. (PHA Gay > 2 yrs. 18/21).
Research into HIV disclosure in other contexts has been
largely quantitative, focusing primarily on frequency of disclosure, the people
to whom information is likely to be disclosed, and the relationship between
disclosure and other factors such as disease progression and health seeking
behavior. Studies, have found, for example, that most HIV positive individuals
disclose their sero-status to one or more friends, but that they are less
likely to share this information with family members (Hays et al.1993, Simoni
et al. 1995, Stempel et al. 1995). The issue of disclosure has been found to be
a potent stressor for PHAs in all of the cultural contexts in which it has been
studied and regardless of whether PHAs choose to reveal their condition or not
(Holt et al. 1998, Keogh et al. 1995, McCain and Gramling 1992). Individuals
who choose to disclose their HIV status may have to contend with issues such as
discrimination and a disruption in their personal relationships, while for
individuals who choose not to disclose their status, the ongoing process of
concealment can create fear and anxiety and can interfere with the adoption of
appropriate health-related behaviors such as safer sexual practices and regular
clinic attendance (Hays et al.1993).
Despite the difficulties associated with disclosure, however,
most studies on PHAs who have disclosed have found that they generally perceive
the reactions to their disclosure as having been favorable or helpful (Hays et
al. 1993, Simoni et al. 1995, Stempel et al., 1995), and some studies suggest
that disclosure may either directly or indirectly result in improved physical
health and immune functioning (Cole et al. 1996, Pennebaker, ed.1995, Petrie et
al. 1995). Disclosure has been associated with less frequent visits to
physicians and greater degrees of normal immune functioning and autonomic
nervous system regularities. Non-disclosure, on the other hand, has been
associated with more frequent health problems, lower levels of perceived social
support and more problems dealing with sexuality and intimate relationships.
(Perry et al., 1994). In fact, most studies in this area suggest that persons
who disclose HIV-positive status have a higher overall Quality of Life than those who do not (Serovich et al. 1998).
There have been relatively fewer qualitative studies on HIV
related disclosure (see for example Holt et al. 1998, Kimberly et. al
1995, Serovich et. al 1998). In these
studies, issues regarding the reasons
PHAs decide to disclose or not disclose, the strategies they use to disclose, and their perceptions of how people to whom they disclose react, are
explored. Based on their interviews with women PHAs, for example, Kimberly her
colleagues (1995) outline six stages PHAs often go through as they navigate the
disclosure process: (1) adjusting to the diagnosis, (2) evaluating personal
disclosure skills, (3) taking inventory of whom to tell, (4) evaluating
potential recipients’ circumstances, (5) anticipating reactions of the
recipient, and (6) having a motivation for disclosing. In their interviews with
positive gay men, Holt and his colleagues (1998) found that disclosure has a
dual role in HIV infection, acting as both a stressor and a mechanism by which
individuals contend with their infection.
There is also a relevant body of work on disclosure not
specifically about HIV, but addressing norms and patterns of disclosure in
Chinese culture. Studies on self-disclosure comparing Chinese and American
subjects have not shown that Chinese
are less likely to disclose personal information than Americans, but that there
may be difference in the topics they are willing to discuss, the people they
are willing to discuss them with, and the detail to into which they are willing
to go in their disclosures (Chen 1995). Wheeless and his colleagues (1986)
observed, for example, that while American subjects tended to disclose personal
information more frequently and to
more people, their Chinese subjects were more likely to disclose information in
more depth. There is also some evidence that Chinese may be more likely to
consider collective rather than individual consequences when deciding whether
or not to disclose difficult information. In his study comparing the ‘coming
out’ strategies of Caucasian and Chinese gay men in America, Liang (1997), for
example, found that Chinese subjects were more likely to talk about the effect
disclosure had on other people whereas Caucasian subjects focused more on their
individual, internal struggles with the ‘coming out’ process.
One of the most problematic aspects of the WHO/QOL-HIV/AIDS module,
and the one which perhaps most clearly belies the theoretical assumptions that
lie behind the questionnaire, is the listing of the facet of disclosure within the psychological domain. The view of
disclosure implied by this placement is that it is primarily an individual
emotional or cognitive issue rather than a social one. In contrast, statements
by our participants consistently represented decisions about whether to
disclose, what to disclose, to whom disclosure should be directed, and the
various consequences of disclosing (or not disclosing) as inseparably bound up
in a complex web of social relationships and social roles. The way disclosure
is managed is dependent on the nature of one’s existing relationships with
others, and the act of disclosing invariably and unalterably changes those
relationships. Disclosure was seen to have an important impact on participants’
ability to do things like access care and services, take their medicine on
time, and manage situations in the workplace. It was also seen to affect the
way social relationships and issues of social identity were handled. Finally,
it was seen to affect PHAs ability to cope with negative emotions and
psychological crises.
Deciding whether or not to reveal one’s HIV infection to
other people is a complex process, and participants mentioned a range of
factors and conditions which influenced this decision. Choosing not to disclose
was related to such factors as fear of discrimination, fear of losing their
jobs, fear of rejection or abandonment by loved ones, fears that their
confidentiality might be violated, and
the shame and guilt they associated with their infection. Among all of
these fears, the fear of discrimination and social stigmatization was one of
the strongest. One participant said:
It’s not a matter of whether others
find out or not. The point is, in your heart you always fear that people will
find out. Even if you can find a job, if others find out about it, you would definitely lose the job.
The people in the society know nothing about the disease. If they could understand, just like you get
along with us, they would know that it’s nothing at all. But they don’t
understand. They have a different way of thinking. Therefore, our psychological
pressure is caused by the society. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs.,130/141)
‘People will be afraid of you even you are miles away, said
another. ‘If there is an AIDS patient taking a bus, I think half of the people
on the bus would go away’ (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 234/238).
Fears of discrimination touched every aspect of our
participants’ lives from casual interaction in public to more intimate
relationships, and while discrimination from strangers was a constant worry,
the fear of discrimination from those closest to them like friends and family members
was even more intense:
We are afraid to let our friends
know about it or our colleagues know, especially our family. Because people
either don’t accept you or they push you away. If you tell the wrong person, everybody
will know about it. And people just stay away from you. I have seen
things...you know people had HIV and friends came to know about it. And
suddenly he has no friends! No more friends! (PHAs Expatriates, 893/900)
You can’t tell your friends because
once you tell your friends, your telephone stops ringing. It’s true! The
telephone stops ringing! People sit and eat with you and literally they watch
what you have touched. And even if you drink something, they would...be very
careful because he’s drinking from that glass or eating with that spoon… (PHA
Expatriates, 102/111)
Don’t mention the people outside, I don’t care how they treat me. But
for my own relatives, my brother once tried to persuade me not to go to his
home and have dinner. I was not sick, I used to go to my auntie’s home and have
dinner during festivals. But once they
knew that I’d caught the disease, he talked with me privately and tried to stop
me from having dinner at his home. I asked him why. So he explained to me that
there were lots of kids at his home, and kids were naughty. If anything
happened to you and the kids get infected, they would be very innocent. See,
even your closest relatives have such a state of mind, don’t even mention those
people in the society. ( PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 618/630)
Not all of the motivations behind not disclosing (or
disclosing in a limited way), however, were negative. Disclosure had a
paradoxical dimension for participants. On the one hand, inability to disclose
was seen as their greatest problem. On the other hand, however, concealing
their condition from those around them was seen as the most effective way to avoid problems:
F: Are there any problems, for
example, your communication with other people?
PHA: The other people don’t know
that we are patients and they treat us just like
normal people. So what do you mean by a communication
problems?
(PHA Consultation 108/113)
Having AIDS is ‘not a problem,’ said another participant,
‘if I can bring the secret to my coffin’ (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs 698). For some participants, controlling
disclosure functioned as a way to increase overall feelings of control in the
face of the uncertainly associated with living with HIV and dealing with
potential discrimination was see chiefly as a matter of information
management.
We should use our own discretion to
control those situations. It’s not necessary to be so dramatic, to always talk
about discrimination. Though sometimes the society might be quite
discriminatory, we ourselves must love and protect ourselves first, and we have
to use our own discretion. The point is, it’s you who decides what to say, not
anyone else. (PHA Non-Gay < 2 yrs., 984/991)
Not disclosing to others was also seen as a way of
maintaining ‘normal’ lives, not just because it allowed PHAs to preserve the status quo in existing relationships,
but also because it was a way to avoid becoming the target of other people’s
questions and concern. Not disclosing, then, was a strategy to avoid taking on
the ‘sick role’:
Man4:I don’t want myself to be
labeled, to be restrained within a group. I was afraid to see others suffering
from this disease in the past. Now I feel bad when others regard me as a
patient because it seems that they are reminding me.
Man5: I don’t like it! (PHAs Gay
< 2 yrs., 624/630)
In discussing how they determined whether or not to disclose
their sero-status, participants revealed a strongly pragmatic attitude, one in
which three inter-related considerations came into play: (1) the utility of disclosure (whether or not participants
could anticipate any practical advantages as a result of it), (2) the person to whom the disclosure was
directed (what kind of response could be anticipated from them, whether or not
they were seen to be sufficiently ‘knowledgeable’ or ‘sympathetic’ to respond
in an appropriate way, and how the PHA’s existing relationship with this person
might be affected), and (3) the timing
of the disclosure.
One of the strongest considerations affecting whether or not
to disclose was whether or not the PHA felt
disclosure would be ‘useful’ in a practical sense. In cases where disclosure
was deemed unnecessary, participants often opted not to disclose. When asked
whether or not he had told his wife about his condition, for example, one PHA
said, ‘There hasn’t been any sex between us for years, so I don’t find it
necessary to tell her’ (PHA Consultation 591/593). ‘Sometimes,’ said another,
‘you just don’t need to tell other people’ (PHA Gay > 2 yrs., 798). This
calculation of ‘need’ was even seen to extend to medical personnel, especially
in non HIV-specialist settings. When asked if she stated clearly to healthcare
workers in public (non-HIV) clinics that she was infected, for example, one
participant said: ‘No. I don’t want to and I don’t need to to fulfill my needs’
(PHA Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 1328/1329). One of the most common reasons
participants gave for not disclosing to friends and family members was ‘there’s
nothing they can do about it.’
The second major factor influencing the willingness of PHAs
to disclose was the identity of the recipient of the disclosure. Hardly any of
our participants had difficulty disclosing to other PHAs, and most were
relatively comfortable disclosing to healthcare workers (at least in HIV
specialist settings) and staff and volunteers from AIDS service organizations.
Partners and friends were seen as more difficult to disclose to, and almost all
of our participants found it hard to disclose to their family members,
especially parents. The two main considerations that influenced the assessment
of whether someone was a suitable recipient of disclosure were their probable
reaction and the likelihood that the disclosure would alter the relationship in
significant ways. Estimates of probable reaction were based on such things as
the age, sexuality and educational level of the potential recipient. Even in
cases where the PHA believed the reaction would be favorable, however, they
often chose not to disclose if they believed disclosure would disrupt the
existing relationship. This was particularly true in relationships in which
roles and duties were already strictly defined (like parents and spouses), and
less so in relationships where roles were more flexible or egalitarian (like
friends and siblings):
I told to my sister because she is
young and will accept me easily. I don’t mean my parents wouldn’t accept me but
they would be upset. They’re old, and I want them to be happy. (PHA Non-Gay
> 2 yrs729/732)
Finally, timing
was a major consideration in disclosure, participants frequently citing how
important it was to ‘find the right time’ to ‘break the news’. Unfortunately,
the ‘right time’ was seldom defined as a time in which the PHA was physically
healthy and psychologically stable and the recipient was emotionally prepared.
In fact, it was during these times that participants were least likely
to disclose. Rather, most saw the ‘right time’ as being that time at which they
could no longer creditably conceal their condition because of serious health
problems. Thus disclosure was often left to ‘critical moments’ such as medical
emergencies or hospitalization. In fact, most of the stories of disclosure to
family members related in the focus groups took place in the context of such
‘critical moments’. One participant said:
I won’t tell others until my
physical state is very bad... I think if it isn’t a critical moment and I don’t need others’ help, I won’t disclose
it. (PHA Gay <2 yrs. 342/348)
Unfortunately, it is in such moments, when both PHAs and their
friends and family members are particularly vulnerable and preoccupied with the
physical and emotional considerations of the medical emergency, that disclosure
is often most difficult to navigate.
The most common reasons for not disclosing given by the
Chinese participants were not reasons that focused on the possible consequences
disclosure might have on them as individuals, but on the consequences it might
have on the people around them. Ironically, often the fear of disclosure came
not from the fear of being rejected or discriminated against, but from the fear
that those who knew would be ‘too concerned’ about them and experience
‘unnecessary’ anxiety.
A majority of the Chinese participants expressed that their
most important reason for concealing their condition, especially from family
members, was the fear that knowing would cause others worry, distress or
pressure:
F: Why is it bad if your friends
know that you have the disease?
PHA: They can’t help me if they
know or I will be their burden. (PHA Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 618/624)
F:
Does your mother know about it?
PHA: No I can’t tell her about
it. I don’t want her to worry.
F: But only your sister knows about
it?
PHA: Yes, but I’ve noticed that
there already exists a big difference between those
family members who know and those
who don’t know. For those who know, I can see that they are facing great
pressure. Taking my elder sister as an example, she has to bear great pressure
because her brother has such a disease.
She would be especially concerned about me, like becoming frightened
whenever I feel sick. But for those who know nothing, it’s not a problem. They
would not have to be especially concerned about the disease and me. So I know
that I would give them pressure if I tell them. (PHA Consultation, 433/460)
Even in cases where participants had disclosed their
sero-status to family members, they sometimes concealed other information such
as HIV related symptoms and pain:
I have to think about the affect of
my disease on others. Some of my family members know that I am infected but I
don’t let them see me when my condition is bad because I don’t want them to
worry about me. (PHAs Gay <2 yrs., 494/497)
Most of the Chinese participants saw the consequences of
their infection to spread far beyond the confines of their individual
experience, touching on the well-being of the groups they belonged to,
especially the family.
In other words, when they considered Quality of Life, they saw it in a collective rather than individualistic way, and preserving the Quality of Life of the entire family unit or their group of friends was
often seen as just as important as improving their own individual well being:
PHA 2: I would feel more
comfortable if I could tell my friends.
PHA3: You would feel comfortable
but not your friends.
PHA2: Right, so it’s selfish.
PHA3: The important thing is, maybe
your friends would feel uncomfortable
knowing. (PHAs Non-Gay >2 yrs., 808-810)
Although most participants seemed to feel that not
disclosing was a way to reduce the amount of stress in their lives and the
lives of those around them, the strategies they used to avoid disclosure were
often portrayed as creating considerable stress. Sometimes stress resulted from
the complex interactional acrobatics that concealing their condition often
necessitated, keeping track, for example, of the different excuses that had
been made to different people. Sometimes the stress was the result of having to
keep to themselves information that was central to their lives. ‘You need a
release,’ said one participant. ‘You need to talk, and that’s the biggest
communication problem. You can’t communicate very much. You have to hide it.
And it’s awful.’ (PHAs Expatriates,188/190).
Common strategies for concealing one’s sero-status were
avoiding health related topics, lying and making excuses, feigning other
illness such as pneumonia, cancer, hepatitis and neurological disorders,
withdrawing from social situations (including, in some cases, moving away from
one’s family or quitting one’s job), using ‘secret languages’ and ‘code words’
when discussing HIV or medications in
public, and eliciting the aid of friends, family members or service providers
to assist in ‘passing’ (Goffman 1964).
Despite the considerable fear and anxiety participants
associated with disclosure, a number of them had disclosed to friends and
family members, and their stories of disclosure were mostly positive.
Disclosure was seen as relieving the psychological burden of secrecy, improving
their ability to access sympathy and care and increasing their sense of
closeness and intimacy with those around them.
Just as participants gave a wide variety of reasons for not
disclosing, they also talked about a variety of factors which motivated them to
disclose, among which were the need for emotional or psychological ‘release’,
the need for ‘someone to talk to’, the need to access care and treatment more
easily, the feeling that disclosing was a way of ‘facing reality’, feeling that
they had the ‘responsibility’ to disclose, especially in the case of sexual
relationships, and the need to disclose in order to illicit the aid of
confederates in more effectively concealing their condition from others. Some
participants saw disclosure as a way to test the genuineness or loyalty of
their friends, and took the attitude that those who responded unfavorably were
not worth having as friends to begin with:
F: Who do you tell?
PHA: Those who are my best friends.
Why? It’s because if they don’t treat
me as a friend after knowing that I
have the disease, I can make other friends
quickly. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs.,
395/398)
Others gave ‘altruism’ as an important reason for
disclosure, saying that if they believed their disclosure would be of benefit
to others, then would feel it was ‘worth it’:
When I would tell my friends? If I
can help him think of something, I
will tell him. For those who are 17
or 18 years old thinking that they are
brave and dare to do whatever, I
will tell them. It’s not because of the
friendship but I will decide
whether I can help them. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 41/447)
Another motivation for disclosure mentioned was to avoid
other ‘spoiled identities’ which the PHA felt were more stigmatizing than HIV:
Why did I tell my boss? I would be
worse off if I didn’t have a job but I wanted to know if he would employ me. I
didn’t want him to say that I was a bad guy if I always had sick leave later. I
didn’t want him to think I was lazy. (PHAs Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 345/353)
Participants reported using a variety of strategies when
disclosing, including going through a third party like a nurse or sibling, and
performing ‘pre-disclosure assessments’ such as asking potential recipients of
disclosure questions about HIV to test their reaction. One of the most
difficult aspects of disclosure in a Chinese context is that strategies of
indirectness often used in the disclosure of other problematic issues were not
seen to be available to PHAs. It has been observed, for example, that
disclosure of gay identity is often performed in an indirect way in Hong Kong,
for example, leaving gay books or magazines in places where their parents can
find them, and ‘being out’ is not always accompanied by explicit verbal acknowledgement
but rather a kind of ‘tacit acknowledgement’ (Chow 1998). The use of such
strategies is much more problematic with HIV infection, a situation which is
difficult to merely ‘hint at’ and difficult to manage without explicit
acknowledgement.
Despite the generally positive feelings participants related
to their disclosure experiences, however, managing relationships with people
after disclosing was never seen as simple. ‘If someone accepts you,’ said one
participant, ‘the process you two have to go through will still be hard’ ( PHAs
Gay < 2 yrs., 536/537). Even in the context of positive reactions, PHAs felt
their friends or family members did not know how to treat them, often avoided
the topic, lacked sufficient information or said inappropriate things. Others
found that the gestures of ‘support’ that sometimes followed disclosure could
be overwhelming, undermining their sense of self-efficacy and independence.
One of the most important aspects of disclosure revealed by
our participants was that it was an issue not confined to sero-status alone.
Concealing sero-status from people often involved concealing a wide range of
other information seen as potentially implicating the PHA such as symptoms and
side effects, taking medicine, and relationships with staff and volunteers of
AIDS service organizations. Similarly, in cases where sero-status had been
disclosed, the issue of disclosure was not laid to rest. In many cases,
decisions about disclosure became even more complex, the PHA having to decide
how much more to tell about their health condition, their feelings, their past
activities and their plans for the future. In fact, participants in our focus
groups talked about concealing information from people to whom they had disclosed their sero-status almost
as much as from people to whom they had
not disclosed it.
Disclosure, therefore, was not seen as an ‘event’ occurring
at a single moment in time, but rather as an ongoing process of ‘approach and avoidance’ (Cronen, Chen, &
Pearce, 1988), a gradual and very controlled ‘opening’ accompanied by a process
of continual assessment based on the PHA’s needs, the person they were speaking
to and the situation in which the speaking took place.
There were some differences in the amount of time different
groups of PHAs discussed disclosure and the kinds of concerns they associated
with it. The most dramatic difference was between Chinese PHAs and their
Western expatriate counterparts, with Chinese talking about disclosure more
than ten times more than expatriates, with expatriates focusing more on
disclosure in the workplace and Chinese giving more attention to disclosure in
the home environment. Gay PHAs were also more likely to discuss disclosure than
straight PHAs, reflecting what Ariss (1997:61) calls the ‘double whammy’ of
disclosure for gay men, the fact that disclosing HIV status also often involves
revealing previously undisclosed information about one’s sexuality. In some
cases, gay PHAs were particularity sensitive to popular perceptions linking HIV
to gay identity, and feared that disclosing their sero-status and their
sexuality at the same time might strengthen these perceptions:
I told my family that I am gay but
they don’t know I have AIDS since I don’t want them to put an equal sign
between AIDS and gay. I will tell them when the timing is right. (PHAs Gay <
2 yrs., 499/502)
Finally there were differences in the amount of time devoted
to discussions of disclosure between more recently diagnosed PHAs and those who
had been diagnosed more than two years prior to the interview. Studies in the
West have noted that the way disclosure is dealt with by PHAs is strongly
influenced by their disease stage and length of time since diagnosis. Mansergh
et al., (1995) for example, found that disclosure tends to increase with time
from diagnosis and with an increase in symptoms, and Holt et al.(1998) observed
that the longer PHAs live with their diagnosis the less stress is associated
with disclosure. In our study, however, the opposite seemed to be true. Not
only did the more recently diagnosed PHAs we interviewed report more disclosure
than PHAs with relatively longer ‘careers’, but those who had been living with
their diagnosis longer talked more than twice as much about problems related to
disclosure). Moreover, the episodes of disclosure reported by recently
diagnosed participants were more often the result of a conscious choice,
whereas the episodes described by those who had been diagnosed for a longer
period tended to be the result of external conditions (medical emergencies or
severe deterioration of health.
One of the most important aspects of health related Quality of Life is the degree of access
individuals have to medical and psycho-social support services and the quality
of such services. In this regard, most would consider PHAs in Hong Kong quite
fortunate. Both the Department of Health and the Hospital Authority have
dedicated clinics providing regular treatment and support services to people
with HIV staffed by highly trained professionals. Nearly every PHA who wants to
go on advanced antiretroviral treatment has that opportunity, and medications
and clinical tests are provided for free. Furthermore, of the nine AIDS
specific NGOs in the SAR, more than half provide services for PHAs including
buddy services, support groups, transportation, hospital visits, home care
nursing and informational newsletters. All of these services are offered in the
context of one of the most technologically advanced and equitable public
healthcare systems in Asia. Nevertheless, Availability
and Quality of Care surfaced as a persistent concern among the people
living with HIV we talked to and their friends and family members.
Understanding the reasons behind this paradox is crucial to helping policy
makers more efficiently channel the considerable resources involved in the care
and treatment of HIV infected individuals, helping clinicians and other
caregivers improve their services, and helping those who seek to understand Quality
of Life issues come to grips with the limitations of purely medical models
and purely material solutions.
The first step in understanding this paradox is making the
distinction between ‘availability’ and ‘access’. While a host of medical and
psychosocial services may be available, this is no guarantee that every PHAs is
in the position to make full use of them. Factors acting as barriers to access
might include things like administrative procedures, logistics (location and
scheduling), cultural norms regarding the seeking of healthcare, communication
problems between clients and carers, and the consequences using HIV related
services might have on PHAs’ relationships with family members and friends.
Ironically, the wide availability of services, especially when these services
are duplicated by ‘competing’ NGOs and clinics, can also act as a barrier to
access, creating for clients dilemmas regarding which services to use and which
caregivers to display ‘loyalty’ towards.
As with nearly all of our participants’ concerns, the issue
of disclosure was seen as a major
factor in being able to access care and services, particularly in non-HIV
specialist settings like private doctors, dentists and ophthalmologic clinics.
Most of the PHAs we talked to exhibited an intense reluctance to reveal their
sero-status in such settings, even though they acknowledged that by not
disclosing they might be jeopardizing the ability of healthcare workers to
provide efficient and informed care. On the one hand, not disclosing in non-HIV
specialist medical settings can be seen as part of the more general reluctance
to disclose discussed above. On the other hand, however, it can be seen as a
rational response to a situation in which healthcare workers outside of the HIV
field are apparently ill-equipped to serve PHAs. Nearly every participant in
our focus groups with PHAs reported at least one story of HIV related
discrimination in a healthcare setting. Incidents included:
being refused treatment after their
sero-status was revealed,
being made to wait longer than other
patients for services,
having their medical charts marked with
blood precaution stickers (referred to as ‘yellow beans’) despite the practice
of universal blood precautions in local hospitals,
doctors and nurses taking unnecessary
precautions (like wearing gloves and face masks) during routine examinations
and treatments,
being refused basic items like food,
water and extra blankets during hospital stays, and
having their sero-status unnecessarily
revealed to other staff and patients.
The most consistent complaint was the fear and discomfort
they perceived from healthcare workers in such settings. ‘Can you imagine the
situation?’ said one PHA, ‘The doctor who examined me was very scared. He
stayed far away from me and wore a mask for every procedure. It was very
troublesome. (Non-Gay < 2yrs., 1047/1053). ‘They were always scared,’ said
another, referring to the nurses in a hospital in which she had been a patient.
‘Seeing you was just like seeing the devil. In fact, seeing the devil was
better than seeing you; they preferred to see the devil’ (PHAs Non-Gay <
2yrs., 558/561).
These experiences have resulted in a situation in which not
revealing one’s HIV status in many non-HIV related medical settings has become
the norm in Hong Kong, and this practice is sometimes encouraged by healthcare
workers in HIV specialist clinics. ‘I felt pain in my teeth and I asked my
doctor whether or not I could tell the dentist that I am an AIDS patient,’ said
one participant, ‘ He told me that I should just say that I had hepatitis and
the dentist would be careful to deal with my blood (Non-Gay > 2 yrs.,
16/20).
This situation has possible serious consequences for both clients
and healthcare providers. While it is clearly the case that revealing one’s
sero-status in not essential in many contexts, it can be argued that the
quality of care is almost always better if the healthcare worker is fully
informed of the client’s health status. Furthermore, feeling that they have to
lie about their status (or being advised by professionals to lie) even to
doctors and nurses, who, of all people, should be the most informed about HIV,
has the potential to reinforce in clients the feeling that there is something
essentially ‘shameful’ about their condition and makes disclosure in
non-medical settings even more difficult. Finally, although not disclosing in
many medical settings is a short term solution to the phenomena of discrimination,
in the long run it serves to perpetuate discrimination by ensuring that non-HIV
specialist healthcare workers do not get the experience and training necessary
to deal with HIV positive clients.
In contrast to non-HIV specialist contexts, participants
were generally extremely positive about the services provided and the attitudes
of healthcare workers in HIV specialist clinics, although discrimination was
also seen as a factor in their willingness to access such services. This was
particularly the case regarding the Department of Health’s new clinic in
Kowloon Bay, whose opening was marred by protests from local residents.
Incidents in which healthcare workers and clients were harassed by residents,
Government inaction in the face of these incidents, and the large amount of
media coverage given to the case, made many participants extremely reluctant to
use this service. ‘If I had the choice, I wouldn’t go there,’ said one PHA
(Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 240). ‘I would rather die than go there,’ said another
(Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 269).
While the greatest barriers to accessing care in non-HIV
clinics were social (discrimination and stigmatization), in HIV-specialist
settings the barriers participants reported were mainly logistical. PHAs
complained about the inconvenient location of clinics, the difficulties in
fitting clinic appointments into their work schedules, and being subjected to
long waits at clinics. A recurring theme among participants when discussing
clinic visits was ‘time’. Clients felt both that visiting the clinic was
unnecessarily time consuming, and also that, during appointments, they were
given too little time to consult with healthcare providers, particularly
doctors. Related to this last concern was the perception that clinics are
understaffed and that doctors and nurses have too many clients to take care of.
Several participants related cases in which a question went unasked or a
service went unaccessed because they felt the healthcare worker involved was
too busy to entertain their request.
Some participants also raised concerns about limitations in
the availability of treatment options and delays in access to laboratory tests
or drugs. Often, what bothered participants as much as these limitations and
delays was the quality of information offered by clinicians regarding them.
‘We… can understand the difficulty hospitals have to face…but the question is
that we are have got to know more,’ the son of a PHA commented. ‘When my mother
was changing her medicine, ahe waited three to four weeks but still there was
no drug available for her. There ought to be the drug for her originally, and
so she had stop taking treatment for two to three weeks. During those weeks I was really nervous
because she couldn’t receive the drug.
How could this be?’ (Non pro Caregivers, Grp.1, 2133/2149).
Participants were also generally favorable in their
assessment of services offered by NGOs, with volunteers and NGO staff often
being seen as people they could talk to about issues they felt reluctant to
talk about to healthcare professionals, friends or family members. NGOs were
also seen as providing valuable services like homecare nursing, transportation
and hospital visits. Some participants also regarded advocacy as an important
role of NGOs, voicing out their concerns in situations where they felt unable
to do so themselves. The most valuable service NGOs were seen to provide,
however, was the chance for PHAs themselves to interact with one another
outside of the context of the clinic.
I think that the organizations are
very helpful to us. They can really make us more active, not like before,
feeling the world is going to end because we have this disease. My outlook on
life has changed since I had contact with them. They can help me solve my
problems. I consider it really good. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 2984/2989)
The most important point is that,
since I got this disease, most of the people that I get in touch with are the
people from "The Lookout", "AIDS Foundation" and "AIDS
Concern". Those people have given
me quite a good impression. With this basic foundation, no matter what they ask
me to do I would feel that it would be something good for me. No matter what purpose they have with these
forums or seminars, I would not mind. (PHAs Consultation, 39/52)
At the same time, some participants revealed some degree of
suspicion regarding the motivations of AIDS services organizations and harbored
the perception that organizations ‘competed’ for clients.
F: What is your opinion about these
organizations?
PHA:The relationship is like
singers and radio broadcast companies. The
former need the latter and the
latter need the former. There are a few patients
but many organizations already.
Sometimes I think they need us to sustain their
organizations. I look at who is really
nice and who is not. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs.,1421/1437)
Although such perceptions may only represent isolated cases,
it is important for NGO staff to be aware that they exist. On one hand, the
large number of services offered to a relatively small client pool was seen as
positive as it increased choice. On the other, however, choosing from among
similar services and the ‘personal politics’ that were often involved in such
choices was sometimes seen as problematic, and some participants found it
difficult to refuse services, becoming overwhelmed by the number of people they
had caring for them or the number of activities they ‘had to’ attend.
Along with the quality and availability of medical care,
studies in health related Quality of Life
often focus on the physical challenges that inevitably accompany living with a
chronic disease. For PHAs living in developed regions where advanced treatments
are available, concerns about HIV related symptoms have recently been
overshadowed by concerns about the side-effects associated with antiretroviral
treatments, side-effects like fatigue, gastrointestinal problems, kidney and
liver disorders and changes in body shape and appearance (such as facial
wasting and lipodystrophy). In dealing with symptoms and side-effects, the
tendency of both researchers and clinicians has been to focus primarily on
their physical manifestations and to address them with primarily biomedical
solutions. For the PHAs in our focus groups, however, at least as important as
the physical discomfort associated with symptoms, side effects, medicines and
treatments were a host of psychological
and social issues ranging from the difficulties in concealing or making excuses
for potentially stigmatizing symptoms or side- effects to communicating health
problems and treatment preferences to healthcare workers. Again, central to
almost all of these problems was the issue of disclosure.
The symptoms and side-effects most frequently reported by
participants were fatigue, nausea, anemia, changes in skin complexion, changes
in body weight and appearance, and peripheral neuropathy. Sometimes these
conditions presented severe physical limitations and intense physical
discomfort for them. Other times the persistence of symptoms and side effects,
even when they did not limit daily activities or produce pain or discomfort,
nevertheless contributed to what Anderson (1992) calls ‘the daily grind of
being ill’. Perhaps not surprisingly, participants who had been living with
their diagnosis for more than two years discussed symptoms and side-effects
significantly more than more recently diagnosed participants, most likely
because they had had more experience with them.
Even more than the physical discomfort associated with side
effects and symptoms, participants focused on their psychological and social
consequences. Symptoms and side-effects were not just seen as problems in
themselves, but as barriers to social inclusion, financial security, harmonious
family life, self-esteem and successful identity management.
Goffman (1963) divides stigmatized
individuals into two types: those with discrediting
characteristics and those with discreditable
characteristics. Discrediting
characteristics are those which are visible to others and so make it almost
impossible for the stigmatized to ‘pass’ as ‘normal’. Discreditable characteristics are those which are essentially
invisible to others, allowing the stigmatize to present a ‘normal’ identity by
concealing the discrediting information from those around him/her. People
living with HIV, particularly in the
era of effective antiretroviral treatment, exist in an uncomfortable limbo
between these two states. While asymptomatic PHAs bear no visible signs of
their infection, and so have a relatively high degree of freedom in terms of
how they manage their identities, they are at the same time, always ‘on the
verge’ of developing symptoms or side-effects which might give them away. Those
who have developed visible symptoms or side-effects, on the other hand, are not
automatically discredited, since such visible signs are usually not obviously
attributable to HIV infection or medication except to the eyes of a highly
trained observer (or another PHA). The anxiety surrounding these bodily signs,
however, remains. Thus, identity management for PHAs is particularly complex as
they are never quite sure when visible ‘stigma signs’ will develop, how these
signs might be interpreted by causal observers, and if and how they should
attempt to ‘cover’ visible signs of stigma, explain them with excuses or
dissembling, or regard them as an indication that ‘the game is up’ and that
discovery or disclosure are inevitable.
One of the most frequently expressed reactions to symptoms
and side-effects among our participants was wondering how they could be
concealed from others, and one of the most common solutions was self-imposed
isolation. As one participant put it:
PHA: Yes.. I dare not face them,
because they don’t know.. My appearance has changed a lot.
F: For example? How has your
appearance changed?
PHA: I was fatter and fairer
before.. but I am thin and dark now...
F: Because of the medicine…
PHA: Yes.. and eh.. I dare not meet
and contact so much with my old friends...we seldom meet one another now.
F: What are you afraid of?
PHA: I am afraid that they will
notice.
F:
You are afraid that they will notice.. so you seldom meet with them..
then they wouldn’t know so easily, right?
PHA: Yes.. (PHAs Thai Female,
139/150)
Another participant described the effect of symptoms and
side-effects on his social life like this:
Man3: My hands shake when I go out
from an air-conditioned room and so I tend to close myself off.
F: What do you mean?
Man3: I think I can’t open myself
completely and thus it affects my communication with others.
F: Examples?
Man3: For example I can’t join in
any public activities which require much energy. But I can’t tell others why I
can’t. (PHA Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 1117/1125)
Symptoms and side-effects were also seen to present
difficulties in interaction with those who already knew of the PHA’s
sero-status. In some cases, problems with symptoms or side-effects resulted
from the different ways PHAs and those who cared for them like partners or
family members interpreted them, and so concealing or making excuses for
symptoms and side-effects was seen as a way to avoid arguments about what
should be done about them:
Sometimes...I don’t know why I
sweat a lot recently. My lover told me
to consult a doctor but I think
it’s difficult to explain to him that’s no good.
I will still sweat even if I see a
doctor. But he didn’t understand me. Others show
me concern but I don’t want to talk
with them. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 35/41)
The social problems arising from symptoms and side effects
also complicated the physical problems associated with them. Often participants
described the situation as a kind of a vicious circle. On the one hand,
symptoms and side-effects made it more difficult for them to conceal their
condition from others. On the other hand, their fear of disclosure and attempts
to conceal or make excuses for symptoms and side effects made it more difficult
for them to elicit help in managing or finding relief from them.
Along with these social problems, and often related to them,
symptoms and side-effects also gave rise to a host of psychological problems
for participants, including depression, diminished self-esteem and confidence,
and the anxiety associated with
concealing or lying about them. As with the social aspects, psychological
responses were seen as inseparable from physical health.
Symptoms and side-effects were seen to increase stress and
negative feelings, and stress and negative feelings were seen to exasperate
symptoms and side -effects and jeopardize overall health and immune system
functioning.
One of the most difficult aspects of dealing with symptoms
and side-effects was the uncertainty associated with them and the difficulty,
even for medical professionals, to interpret their meaning in terms of the
overall health or life-expectancy of the individual. As Brashers and his
colleagues (1999) point out, often it is difficult for individuals on HIV
medications to discern if their symptoms are a result of HIV infection or of
adverse effects of the medications, which can heighten fears about their
safety. Adjusting to this uncertainty sometimes resulted in a lowering of
expectations. ‘The side effects of medicine confuse me,’ said one participant.
‘I don’t know what my future will be and dare not to think of it. So my demand
for a good quality of life is low. (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 68/71).
Healthcare workers also showed a strong awareness of the
inter-relatedness of physical symptoms, psychological difficulties and social
functioning:
Nurse: If their physical condition is stable, they will
become more emotionally balanced, but there are many emotional factors that
affect their physical condition. They will get other diseases easily if they
have mental or emotional problems. Other factors such as support, family, peer
group, social life also affect their physical condition. (Pro-Caregivers Grp.
1, 806/812)
In terms of medications and treatments, what presented
difficulty for our participants was not just the physical side-effects they
caused, but the problems associated with the actual act of taking medicine. In discussing medications and treatments,
in fact, participants spent considerably more time talking about difficulties
involved in ‘taking medicine’ (more than 800 lines of transcript) than on
difficulties associated with physical side-effects from the medicines (136
lines of transcript). Again, what was seen as most disruptive about taking
medicine was not the physical dimension, but rather it’s effect on the PHA’s
social world.
These findings are consistent with other studies on
non-adherence to HIV medications (see for example Brigido et al. 1998) which
have found that the greatest barriers to adherence tend to be social and
psychological (such as constraints on
taking medicine in the home or workplace, difficulties fitting medications into
daily routines and economic barriers) rather than physical or medical.
For PHAs who lived with family members, particularly those
to whom they had not disclosed their sero-status, taking medicine on time was
seen as especially difficult. One participant said, for example, ‘I do not like
to take medicine in front of my family. I don’t want them to ask me why I am taking medicine and what kind of
medicine I am taking. I can’t tell them the truth that I am taking medicine
because I have this disease, and the fact that it is necessary for me to take
medicine for a long period of time because of the disease. Usually I just hide the pills in one hand
and throw them into my mouth and quickly drink some water’ (PHAs Consultation,
143/153). Even in cases where family members were aware of the PHAs
sero-status, participants were keenly conscious of the need to conceal their
medicines when visitors were present. One man said, ‘Sometimes when my
daughter’s friend comes to my house, I have to go back to my room and take the
medicine. I have to hide the medicine immediately’ ( PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs.,
911/913).
Like visible symptoms and side-effects, PHAs regarded the
act of taking medicine as a potential ‘stigma sign’ and avoided taking it in
front of others to avoid having to explain themselves or make excuses:
Most of the time I hide myself when
I take medicine, no matter whether I’m with my family or with my friends. I try
not to let them know I’m taking medicine. It’s because.. well, it ‘s really not
a big deal. Because I’m sick so I have to take the medicine. But I don’t want them to ask me about it,
and I don’t want to lie. So I prefer to keep it all inside me, not letting
others to know about it (PHAs Consultation, 210/219).
Fear of being seen taking medicine also interfered with
PHAs’ perceptions of their work capacity, as some workplace environments
provided limited opportunities for privacy. Some participants even extended
this fear to casual observers in public places like restaurants and bars:
You can’t let anyone see you taking
medicine, so we have to take it stealthy. When we go out, when we go to work,
we have to be stealthy. If there were not so many people it the society
discriminating against people with this disease, then you could take the
medicine more casually. So taking medicine can be a big problem. (PHAs Non-Gay
< 2yrs., 900/905)
Volunteer: They don’t like having medical
checkups and they don’t like taking medicine, either, especially when they are
in a public place. They are very careful when they take out the medicine box
and take the medicine because they are frightened that other people nearby will
see them. They are extremely sensitive. They are frightened that other people
would see the medicine and suspect that they are AIDS patients. (Non-pro
Caregivers Grp. 2, 199/206)
Along with the physical act of taking medicine, other
demands brought on by complex dosing schedules were seen by both PHAs and
caregivers as severely restricting PHAs ‘freedom’, particularly their ability
to participate in social activities and manage social relationships. According
to a nurse from one of the specialist clinics:
In fact, many patients reflected to
me that it was not the illness itself made them so unhappy. It was the medication which created problems
and there were so many restrictions that they could not participate in many
kinds of social activities. The feeling
of social withdrawal made them feel
so unhappy. Maybe it is better for them
if
the medication could have fewer
restrictions. (Pro Caregivers Consultation, 31/41)
This was particularly evident in regard to restrictions on
eating, which for Chinese has a special social significance (to the point that
it is assigned a facet of its own on the Hong Kong version of the WHO’s generic
QOL instrument, see Leung et al. 1997). One participant explained: ‘The
medication affects my quality of life to a large extent. For example if I go
out to have a meal with my friends, I can’t decide the time because I have to
take medicine. This may seem like a minor problem but it really affects my
quality of life’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 17/20).
These social issues around taking medicine were seen to
interfere with participants’ ability to adhere to their treatment regimens at
least as much as physical symptoms. Participants reported altering their dosing
schedules or missing doses in order to avoid taking medicine in the company of
friends, family members and colleagues or to make it easier for them to fulfill
social commitments. Others altered their schedules to control side-effects, but
the side-effects mentioned were usually those which they regarded as ‘stigma
signs’ which interfered with their identity management:
PHA1: It’s difficult to take
medicine regularly if I have to work. I am afraid others will know that I have
that disease and dare not take it in a crowd. The timetable for taking medicine
is also disgusting.
PHA4: I always delay until the last
minute to take it.
PHA 1: I know medicine is helpful
but I won’t take it on time.
PHA2: I won’t die if I don’t take
it. So I regulate the timetable for myself.
PAH 4: So do I.
PHA1: Some medicines have
side-effects, make my complexion dark. So I regulate the timetable.
(PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 1355/1374)
Finally, symptoms, side effects, medications and treatments
were closely related to care issues, particular those involving communication between
PHAs and healthcare workers. Problems in this area were sometimes the result of
PHAs and caregivers bringing different understandings of symptoms,
side-effects, medications and treatments to the interaction.
According to Kleinman (1980), professionals tend to be more
concerned with symptoms and side-effects as they relate to clinical models of
disease, and less as they affect the social world of the patient, whereas
patients experience physical manifestations of their disease not as isolated
‘clinical’ bodies, but as beings who have to constantly interact with others
(Silversides 1999). Symptoms and side-effects like skin-rashes and changes in
complexion might, from the point of view of a doctor, seem rather unimportant
when they do not indicate or result in serious physical problems, while, from
the point of view of the client, they may in some ways be even more problematic
than more ‘serious’ health problems that are nevertheless invisible to the eyes
of friends, family members and casual observers. Other times the problem may be
reversed, with PHAs not bothering to mention certain symptoms and side-effects
to nurses or physicians because they do not perceive them as interfering with
their daily lives or as important enough to take up caregivers’ time with.
The biggest communication problems between PHAs and
healthcare workers, however, seemed to revolve around discussion of medications
and adherence to drug regimens. Nurses in particular found it very difficult to
negotiate consultations about drug compliance, although they saw helping PHAs
adhere to their dosing schedules as one of their main jobs. Many of the
healthcare workers cited ‘honesty’ as the main
obstacle to successful consultations. In fact, some of them entered into
consultations expecting their clients
to be dishonest:
Doctor : Also, a patient will never
disclose to a doctor that he hasn’t take the medication if he thinks that he’ll
be scolded. (Pro Caregivers Consultation, 163/165)
Nurse: If you ask them "have you
ever forgotten to take your medication?", their answer will surely be
"never"! (Pro Caregivers Consultation, 290/292)
Healthcare workers attributed this alleged dishonesty
primarily to the power-dynamic between clients and healthcare workers, believing
that PHAs were reluctant to reveal their ‘disobedience’ to authority figures.
One reason for the difficulties involved in interaction around compliance,
however, may be the slightly different perspectives healthcare workers and PHAs
brought to issues of taking medicine.
Whereas, as mentioned above, PHAs focused on the social problems they
encountered and the visible side-effects medicines produced, professional
caregivers paid more attention to the physical problems involved, talking about
the physical discomfort associated with medications more than twice as much as
the PHAs. Nurses and doctors also tended to regard the taking of medicine as an
‘individual choice’ and an ‘individual
responsibility’ rather than as a ‘social activity’.
The following excerpt illustrates this emphasis on both
physical barriers and individual action:
Nurse: By talking with them,
sometimes we know they don’t take it. What we believe is that medicine can help
them although it has side effects. We understand some patients are afraid of
the side effect and thus don’t take their medicine. But we hope that they can
maintain their status quo and so can wait for new medicine. We suggest new
medicine or
treatments to them every time.
After explanation, we give our patients the right
to choose if they would like to try
it. If they accept the new medicine, it
means that they accept suffering
the side effects at the same time. If they don’t
try it, I will tell them the
consequences. It’s a mutual agreement of choosing
and they have to bear the
responsibility. (Pro Caregivers Grp. 1, 949/966)
Another potential reason for miscommunication has to do with
the contradictions between the medical model of HIV treatment brought to the
interaction by healthcare workers and the ‘common sense’ perceptions of health
and disease brought to the interaction by clients (Helman 1984). Everyday
models of disease see medicine as something that you take when you are feeling
ill and something that, if effective, should make you feel better. Neither of
these assumptions holds true, however, for HIV treatments, which are usually
taken in the absence of illness and usually make patients feel worse rather
than better. Even when provided with medical information about the benefits of
treatments, it is often difficult to reconcile this rather abstract information
with PHA’s concrete experiences with treatments. Too often there seems to be a
contradiction between what their healthcare workers are telling them and ‘what
their bodies are telling them’. This is particularly true in the case of
asymptomatic PHAs whose only experience of physical discomfort has come from
HIV medications rather than HIV itself:
F: But why did you decide to stop
taking medicine?
PHA: I couldn’t feel anything wrong
in my body. It’s the same for me to take the medicine or not to take the
medicine. So I’d rather not take it. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 1360/1364)
PHA: If I feel pain in my spine,
the doctor will give me some medicine which will cause me pain in the stomach.
So I would rather not take any medicine. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 1384-1386)
Because antiretroviral treatment is a new, complex and ever
evolving field fraught with uncertainty, healthcare workers themselves
sometimes found it difficult to explain treatment alternatives and the justify
the discomfort and inconvenience associated with treatments, and PHAs sometimes
felt that healthcare workers were not able to give them ‘straight answers’ to
the questions they asked.
Nurse: Some medicines make patients
feel bored, vomit, etc., leading them change their normal social life. They
think the medicine makes them worse. They can’t feel the advantages of
medicine. They are very upset. I admire their patience. They ask me if medicine
can really help them but I don’t know how to answer them. Sometimes they murmur
they will die of the side effects instead of HIV. This is understandable. (Pro
Caregivers Grp. 1, 922/931)
PHA: When I seek my doctor’s advice
about taking medicine, he can’t give me an exact answer. What am I supposed to
do? (PHAs Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 14/1401)
One of the main reasons for communication difficulties
around anti-retroviral treatments might lie in the way healthcare workers and
PHAs conceptualized adherence iteself, and the kinds of relationships
and obligations that it implied for them. Recent research on adherence, not
just to HIV medications but drug regimens for other chronic diseases as well,
has suggested that the way clients and practitioners speak about
adherence issues has an important effect on how successfully adherence is
pursued. In the past few years, for example, researchers and clinicians have
advocated abandoning the term compliance, which is seen to contain a
value statement and ‘directional bias’
which assumes that physician guidelines are by their nature more legitimate
than patient responses (Chesney et al 2000:1600), with the more neural term adherence
(Ley 1988, Tuckett et al. 1986), and more recently, a concordance model has been suggested which
emphasizes shared goals and decision making between healthcare workers and
clients (Royal Pharmaceutical Society of Great Britain 1997). This shift in the
way adherence is viewed in medical circles was reflected in statements
by professional caregivers and their clients in our focus groups, who often emphasized
the concepts of ‘patient choice’ and ‘shared expertise’. Despite their avowed
commitment to this model, however, their statements often reveled a set of
assumptions about relationships and obligations more characteristic of compliance
models.
Candlin and his colleagues (1998) point out that the
‘discourse of compliance’ and the ‘discourse of concordance’ have particular
linguistic and interactional features associated with them regarding such
things as lexical and grammatical choices and metaphorical constructions.
Analysis of the statements of our participants suggests that, although they
advocated the principle of ‘patient choice’, discussions of adherence tended to
be couched in a ‘discourse of compliance’ in which the views of healthcare workers
were assumed to be more legitimate than the views of clients. In the excerpt
below, for example, while the speaker emphasizes that it is ‘up to the client
to decide’, negotiating adherence is portrayed not as a shared process of
decision making but instead as a process of education. Adherence is a
matter of clients’ ‘ability’ to learn, ‘understand’, and follow the
instructions of healthcare workers:
Nurse: They take the medicine and
we have to educate them about how to take it and the side-effects and let them
decide whether or not to take it. If they come every two or
three months, the time we spend on educating them is limited. How the
patients
take medicine after they go home depends on their responsibility and
ability.
Besides, it also depends on home care's visit or contact. This isn't
something the clinic
can do. Different parties will employ different techniques to remind them
to
take medicine but they have to match with one another so that the
patients can
understand the importance. (Pro
Caregivers Grp. 1, 993/1007)
Similarly, in the
following excerpt, the healthcare worker sees her job as ‘discovering’ why
clients fail to follow instructions and
‘encouraging’ them to take their medicine properly:
The key is finding out that why they are unwilling to take
medicine. We have to encourage them to take it although the side effect
is
large. It takes time to do so. (Pro Caregivers Grp. 1, 970/974)
PHAs as well, often
couched their discussions of medicines and treatments in a ‘discourse of
compliance’, one participant, for example, referring to her ability to adhere
to her treatment regimen as ‘being a good girl’. (PHAs Non-Gay <
2yrs., 815).
One of the problems with the way participants discussed adherence
was the contradiction between the egalitarian relationship implied by references to ‘patient choice’ and the hierarchical
relationship implied by references
to ‘education’, ‘explanation’ and ‘encouragement’. Thus, while participants
might have believed that healthcare workers and clients were negotiating on an
‘equal footing’, consultations around treatment options described both by PHAs
and professional caregivers most often took the form of healthcare workers
presenting limited options and eliciting clients’ ‘agreement’ rather than of
clients themselves presenting treatment
preferences to healthcare workers. This is partly the result of PHAs’ lack of
sufficient knowledge to participate as equal partners in the interaction, and
partly because of the traditional relationship between healthcare workers and
clients which makes questioning the decisions of doctors and nurses difficult.
One of the social workers we interviewed said:
SW: My clients want to try new
medicine or change their medicine but do not dare to tell the AIDS unit or
Queen Elizabeth nurses. Maybe Hong Kongers are afraid of doctors...they think
it’s a challenge to talk to them. They are afraid the consequence will be bad
if they challenge their authority. But if it is done by a third party, they can
avoid
the risk. You think they shirk
their duty, but I think it’s a matter of culture. (Pro Caregivers Grp. 2 1503/1511)
While it may be true that deference to authority figures is
a characteristic of Chinese culture, this problem exists in almost all contexts
of HIV care. In a study of PHAs in nine US cities, for example, Mouton and his
colleagues (1997) found that only about 35% reported discussing treatment
preferences with their doctors, and the likelihood of PHAs expressing preferences
to healthcare workers diminished as the perceived power differences increased
(with PHAs with less education and less money being the least likely to express
treatment preferences).
The gap between the principles participants advocated
regarding adherence and the ways they talked about it suggests that cultivating
‘client choice’ and ‘shared expertise’ requires not just ‘good intentions’ but
a closer examination of how healthcare workers and their clients interact and
how they communicate about treatment issues. In this regard, the ‘discourse of
concordance’ should be seen not as a ‘philosophy’ which interactants must
‘believe in’, but as ‘a skill’ that both healthcare workers and clients need to
develop.
It should be clear by now that, rather than treating social
factors--social inclusion, personal relationships, support networks and
cultural and familial roles--as separate from physical and psychological
conditions--these factors have a profound, over-riding impact on all aspects of
QOL. HIV diagnosis has some effect on nearly all of a PHA’s social
relationships, raising questions about whether or not and how much to disclose
to different people, what rights and obligations the PHA has in relation to
those around him or her, and how established roles can be sustained or must
change in light of the PHA’s medical condition and the physical and
psychological challenges which accompany it. HIV diagnosis requires PHAs to
reinvent their social world (Ariss 1997), re-evaluating and re-negotiating
existing relationships, and establishing new relationships with people they
might never have come into contact with were it not for the diagnosis--nurses,
doctors, social workers, and other people with HIV/AIDS. At the same time, it
is the ways old relationships are altered and new relationships are negotiated
that chiefly determines the extent to which PHAs are able to access treatment,
care, and psycho-social support, and how they are able to deal with physical
and psychological problems on a day to day basis. Social relationships are not
simply one aspect of QOL; they are
its very foundation.
Among the most troubling aspects of living with HIV noted by
our participants was the sense of social isolation that often accompanied it.
As discussed above this social isolation was often a result of physical changes
associated with HIV infection or treatment (changes in appearance, fatigue,
loss of physical strength) along with fear of rejection associated with disclosure
or discovery. The financial difficulties that resulted from reduced ability to
work were also seen as a factor causing PHAs to bow out of certain social
activities. For some, social isolation came from actually being abandoned by
friends, lovers or family members, but for most, exile was self-imposed. Like
not disclosing their HIV status, self-isolation played a paradoxical role in
the lives of many of our participants. Reducing contact with friends was seen,
on the one hand, to diminish their social world, but on the other, as a
necessary strategy to maintain their
social world and to ‘protect’ both themselves and people whom they were
avoiding.
Sometimes the social isolation that plagued PHAs was more
psychological than physical, the feeling that when they interacted with people
to whom they had not disclosed their sero-status they had to play a ‘role’ and
could not be their ‘real selves’. The ‘secret’ itself was seen as a barrier to
intimacy. Feelings of isolation, however, were even present in those
relationships in which the PHA felt able to disclose, as significant others
struggled with how to treat the PHA in light of this new information and PHAs
struggled to interpret obvious or subtle changes in their friends’ or lovers’
or family members’ behavior towards them. HIV diagnosis was seen as, in a
sense, inherently isolating, regardless of the degree of disclosure, since, as
several of our participants pointed out, even those who ‘knew’ could not really
‘understand’ what it was like to live with HIV.
‘You can’t expect others to be able to understand you,’ said
one participant .
(PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 645/646)
Expatirate PHAs and Thai PHAs in our groups discussed social
inclusion slightly more than our Chinese participants, perhaps because they
often lacked the geographically present network of family members and close
friends that the local participants had. More recently diagnosed PHAs also
seemed more concerned with social inclusion than those who had been living with
their diagnosis longer. One reason for this might be that those recently
diagnosed were more likely to be feeling the sting of the initial restructuring
of relationships that often comes immediately after diagnosis, associated with
depression, shame, and dealing with the sometimes negative reactions of
significant others. Reports of feelings of intense isolation and loneliness
often accompanied stories of diagnosis, and ‘shutting oneself away’ seemed a
common strategy for dealing with the initial shock of a positive HIV antibody test
result.
Finally, straight PHAs talked more about social inclusion
than gay PHAs. It was not unusual for the gay PHAs in our groups to have strong
ties within the gay community, either through social activities or through
political organizations, and most of these ties survived the trauma of
diagnosis, while straight PHAs were more likely to structure their social lives
around their families. Although disclosure was nearly as rare among gay
participants as among straight participants, some did report positive
disclosure experiences with gay friends whose level of knowledge and acceptance
were seen to be relatively high. Continuing to be socially active, however,
caused other problems for gay PHAs, especially in regard to things like
negotiating sexual invitations, explaining visible symptoms and side effects,
and refusing social invitations when the effects of the virus or the
medications made them unable to participate.
Of all the relationships our participants talked about, the
relationships with family members were seen by Chinese PHAs and their
caregivers as the most important and the most pertinent to issues of Quality of Life. This emphasis placed on
family relationships, and problems associated with communicating about HIV in
the context of the family, can be seen partly as a result of the important role
the family plays in Chinese social organization, and how individual rights and
obligations are structured within the family unit. While in most Western
cultures, ‘social identity’ and ‘cultural roles’ are most often established
around activities outside the family (primarily work and career), and, to some
degree establishing an appropriate social identity requires that one separate oneself from one’s family and ‘strike out
on one’s own’, in Chinese societies, social identity is inseparable from family
roles--while one might sometimes define themselves as a lawyer or a student or
a ‘tongzhi’ (gay or lesbian), one is always first and foremost a member of a
family unit, and the demands of fulfilling one’s role in the family tends to
take precedence over other social identities (Bond and Hwang 1986, Hsu 1985,
Scollon and Scollon 1995, Yang 1993). Thus it is not surprising that Chinese
PHAs talked about social, cultural, and familial
roles three times more than expatriate Western PHAs, and when discussing relationships, talked more than five
times more than expatriates about their families.
This is not to say that family relationships are somehow
more ‘important’ to Chinese, or that issues like disclosure to family members
are inherently more problematic. Studies in the West have also found that PHAs
find dealing with their families particularly difficult (Kimberly, Serovich,
& Greene 1995, Yep, 1993), and PHAs in the West are also less likely to
disclose their sero-status to their family members as they are to their close
friends or regular sexual partners (Hays et al.1993, Simoni et al. 1995,
Stempel et al. 1995). The differences are not so much differences in the
‘closeness’ people in different cultures feel towards their families or the
degree of importance they associate with family ties, but rather structural differences, differences in
the way family life is organized and differences in cultural expectations about
one’s behavior towards one’s family. In Chinese families, for example, love
tends to be expressed to parents and older siblings through displays of dutiful
or ‘filial’ behavior (hao suen)
rather than self-disclosure, and to children and younger siblings through ‘care’
and ‘protection’. Self-disclosure is, in fact, sometimes frowned upon, the
point of view of a single family member being seen as subordinate to the
well-being of the family as a whole. According to King and Bond (1985:35),
self-expression or strivings for autonomous behavior, in Chinese families ‘are
discouraged or suppressed as nothing more than selfishness.’ Families in many
Western cultures, on the other hand, place a great deal of importance on at
least the show of ‘honesty’, love being expressed through the act of ‘sharing’
or ‘showing your true self’, with frankness and respect for individual
viewpoints highly valued, especially as children reach adulthood (Carbaugh
1988). Another important feature of Chinese families is the relatively hierarchical
nature of relationships within them, as opposed to the more egalitarian
relationships fostered in many Western families (Scollon and Scollon 1995). In
Western cultures, not disclosing HIV status to parents (or children) can be a
potent source of guilt, making PHAs feel that they are violating the
trust of their loved ones. Of more concern to Chinese, however, is likely to be
the shame associated with disclosure within the family. Bond (1986), in
his discussion of how mental illness affects Chinese families, points out that
the ‘shame’ associated will illness is likely to be seen in a collective rather
than individualistic way, the family ‘absorbing’ the shame of the individual
(247). Not only does disclosure disrupt
the family structure and jeopardize the family’s min (‘face’), it may also sometimes be accompanied by exaggerated
reactions of caring or protection that restrict the PHAs freedom and sustain
his shame.
One of the most difficult things about living with HIV for
our Chinese participants was the degree to which it interfered with their
ability to fulfill what they believed to be their proper roles in the family.
Younger PHAs worried that they would not be able to bring honor to their
families. Older, married PHAs worried that they could not provide their
families with financial support, and women PHAs worried that they would not be
able to give birth. The force of traditional family roles was sometimes seen by
PHAs and their family members to interfere with their ability to give or
receive care and to communicate openly about the disease. A son of an HIV
positive mother, for example, described the situation like this:
F: What factor would you regard as making her talk less to you?
Son: ...Basically I would say this
is because of her status as ‘the mother’.
She doesn’t want her real, weak
self to be exposed to her children. Even though
I am approaching thirty, she still
considers me her child. Therefore, she sees me as her responsibility rather
then she, herself, as my responsibility. This is how I account for her behavior
of being unwilling to talk about her emotions with me. (Non-pro Caregivers Grp.
1, 308/319)
It is not surprising, therefore, that the major reason
Chinese PHAs in our focus groups gave for not disclosing to their families was
not that they feared rejection or blame, but because they did not want to
burden their parents and other family members with information about their
infection which could potentially disrupt the harmony of the family, and even
those who had disclosed their sero-status to relatives were resistant to share
with them information about the pain, physical discomfort, symptoms or
treatments associated with their infection. ‘If I told my family I have this
disease,’ said one Chinese participant, ‘it would be like I was shirking my
duty towards them. So I prefer to seek help from outsiders like nurses’ (PHAs
Gay > 2 yrs., 756/760).
The concern from Chinese PHAs about being a burden on their families
has two sides to it. One has to do with the emotional, psychological or
financial burden taken up by the family itself. The other has to do with the
burden this in turn created for the PHA, the burden of being ‘cared for’ and of
carrying the shame of not being able to fulfill his or her appropriate roles
within the family.
Even in cases where family members knew participants’
sero-status, things like pain, symptoms, side-effects and the taking of
medicine were still often seen as things that ought to be concealed in order to
avoid undue concern or worry:
Partner of PHA: When he doesn’t
feel very well, he won’t let his mother or other family members enter the ward
to visit him, but would ask tem to go instead. He thinks that it would be
better for them not to see him cry painfully or for him to have to take the
effort to explain the situation to them. (Non-pro Caregivers Grp. 1, 441/448)
There is also the possibility that disclosure to family
members in Chinese culture might be perceived to carry more risk. While the
psychological impact of being rejected or abandoned by family members might be
the same in every culture, in Chinese societies the social consequences are
likely to be greater, so much of Chinese social life being organized around the
family. Severing family ties, therefore, can bring a sense of ‘cultural
isolation’.
At the same time, not being able to avail themselves of the
‘care’ and ‘protection’ that were seen their ‘due’ (every bit as much as ‘duty’
and ‘deference’ were due to their families) seemed to be particularly difficult
for Chinese participants to deal with:
I feel that it is really difficult
for me to cope with my family. As I’ve got this disease, and I didn’t know much
about it in the beginning, it really frightened me. But I couldn’t tell them my
pain. In this critical moment I couldn’t have the care, sympathy and
understanding from my family that I deserve. They do care for me, but that kind
of care is just enough for an ordinary diseases. But for the kind of disease
that I have, especially at a time when I thought that the situation was very
critical, still I dared not tell them the truth. I felt that the pain was
unbearable for me. (PHA Consultation, 224/239)
PHA: Why do I always have to lie to my family? When I feel pain, why
can’t I tell them how I feel, just to release my emotion? Sometimes when I
really cannot bear the pain, I’m afraid I’ll just cry out. (PHAs Consultation,
250/254)
One participant described this paradoxical relationship with
the family, simultaneously feeling the need to disclose and the need to
conceal, as living on the ‘margin of love and pain’ (loy yu tong dik binyun)* :
PHA: I think my situation would be
slightly different because I have moved out from
my family since I got this disease.
So there is less chance to communicate
with my family. As I am frequently
being sent into the hospital, my mother
is puzzled about it. It is a hard
time for me. I don’t want my family to bear it
so I keep it all to my self, just
like X (another participant). At the same time, I surely I want my very close
relatives to care for me when I’m sick. But I have think about the
possibility of the serious
consequences that might occur after telling them the
truth, thus we are always at the
"margin of love and pain". (PHAs Consultation, 288/303)
What was seen as the worst situation, however, was not
having a family at all.
PHA: What I’m thinking is that this
disease of mine might strike at any minute. I also worry about when I will lose
my life. But I’m quite different from the others. If the disease strikes
suddenly, I would have to deal with it by myself. It’s different if you have a
family. If you have a family, and something unexpected happens, there is always someone there to take care
of you. I am alone, so I am quite scared about this. I’m scared that someday I
will have to stay in the hospital and will not be able to move around. Who will
be there to look after me? This is what I fear about. I don’t fear death. I
fear being alone. (PHAs Non-gay < 2yrs., 891/904)
Consequently, those who felt able to disclose to their
families and had received a positive response often considered themselves
extremely lucky:
I am lucky that my family members
know I am gay and thus I can bring my lovers’ home. I don’t want them to have
much worries for me and I’m lucky that my mom understands this disease. I felt
much more comfortable after disclosing my disease to them because it’s hard to
tell others about this disease. (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 84/89)
The participants who talked most about the effect of HIV on
the family, however, were not the PHAs, but family members themselves in focus
group discussions with non-professional caregivers. Disruption of traditional
family roles again emerged as a primary concern. Just as PHAs found it
difficult to take on the ‘sick role’ in the family, caregivers as well found it
difficult to take on the new roles the situation presented to them, especially
when these roles were seen to contradict already ratified familial roles. Other
concerns noted by family members were feelings of inadequacy, that they were
not equipped with enough information or expertise to provide adequate care or
support, problems associated with dealing with medical crises, the pressures of
having to act as a mediator between the PHA and neighbors, employers and other
family members, and the difficulties in ‘knowing how to treat’ the PHA and
interpreting sometimes subtle signal regarding needs and wants.
The most important person in the life of many PHAs is their
spouse or partner. Like other family members, spouses and partners take on a
variety of tasks, from physical care-giving to providing emotional support,
that have an important effect on the Quality
of Life of the PHA. Even more than
with other family members, relationships with spouses or partners are often
major determinants in how PHAs view their QOL, and difficulties within theses
relationships, are often seen as major barriers to PHAs’ achieving a higher Quality of Life.
In line with other research on HIV disclosure (Green 1994,
Norman et al. 1998, Perry et al. 1994, Stempel et al. 1995, Wolitski et al.
1998), the participants in our study were much more likely to disclose their
HIV status to long-term sexual partners than to family members or friends:
PHA: I won’t tell others like my
family until my physical state is very bad. But I have to tell my partners
because I have sex with them and if I love them, I can’t let them bear the risk
of being infected. I know someone who told his friend and the news was spread
out. So I think if it isn’t a critical moment and I don’t need others’ help, I
won’t disclose it to friends. (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 342/348)
Disclosure to more casual partners was much more irregular
and posed much more of a dilemma for participants. Disclosure in the initial
stages of relationships was seen to carry not just the risk of rejection but
also the risk that the PHA’s confidentiality would be violated. ‘I met guy and
he said he loved me very much,’ reported one of our participants, ‘but after
knowing the fact that I am an AIDS patient, he left me at once and spread my
secret’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 550/553).
Thus, participants often chose not to disclose, at least
immediately, to casual partners or new romantic friends, instead opting to take
responsibility for precautions themselves or to try to avoid risky sex or sex
altogether. The likelihood of disclosure, however, increased if the
relationship extended beyond one or two encounters, allowing the PHA to ‘get to
know’ his or her partner better.
PHA3: I met another guy recently
but I dared not tell him immediately because I don’t understand him well. But
every time we were about to have sex, he wondered why I didn’t want to. I am
unwilling to take any risks and thus tried to avoid it.
PHA1: If you meet someone whom you
really love, you should set a time limit for yourself.
PHA2: It’s hard to understand a
person within a short period of time.
PHA4: I let myself think of 2 months.
He was calm when I told him but later...
PHA2: Why he could sense it? (PHAs
Gay < 2 yrs., 560/575)
For a number of participants, disclosure of an HIV diagnosis
brought on the end of a relationship, which made dealing with the diagnosis
even more difficult. Sometimes it was the partner who initiated the breakup,
and sometimes it was the PHA him/herself who did, citing guilt and fear of
infecting his or her partner or spouse.
While most of our participants chose to tell their sexual
partners, if not immediately, at least eventually, some, particularly straight,
married PHAs, opted to conceal their sero-status from their partners, believing
that this was the only way that the relationship could be preserved:
K: If you tell your wife, there
will be a big disturbance between the couple.
W: Big chaos
Y: I dare think about it
further....it would be better that they don’t know.
(PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs.,
2955/2959)
Non-disclosure to partners was more common among straight
PHAs than gay PHAs possibly because disclosure within a marriage brought with
it the threat of not just of jeopardizing the relationship but also of
jeopardizing the harmony of the larger family unit beyond the husband and wife.
At the same time, concealing sero-status from partners and spouses was
particularly stressful both emotionally and logistically.
Even for those who had disclosed to partners and managed to
maintain their relationships, the dynamic between PHAs and their sero-negative
partners was often fraught with difficulty. Difficulties revolved around issues
of sex, inequality, different strategies of coping with the infection, and
feelings of guilt and worry, anger and inadequacy.
Sexual relationships with partners were often seen to change
dramatically after disclosure, not just in terms of the sexual practices
involved, but also in terms of the emotional dynamic. PHAs themselves often
reported curtailing their sexual activities with partners or spouses out of
feelings of guilt or fear of infecting their partner. They also sometimes felt
that their partner’s attitude towards sex and willingness to engage in it had
changed.
One of the most difficult aspects of maintaining personal
relationships from the point of view of PHAs was the feeling of inequality that
emerged as a result of their infection, the feeling that they ‘needed’ their
partners more than their partners ‘needed’ them. ‘You don’t have the choice’,
said one PHA, ‘ but he has’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 390). Loss of feelings of
security in relationships and fears of being abandoned by partners were common.
Another PHA said, ‘One minute they might be with you, and the next moment they
might be gone’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 316). This uncertainty seemed
particularly characteristic of our gay participants, partly because gay
relationships themselves were seen by some as inherently less stable. ‘I know
that relationships for gay people can’t last,’ said one gay participant, ‘and I
understand the importance of taking care of myself’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs.,
334/335).
The biggest difficulties faced in sero-discordant
relationships had to do with issues of ‘talking’, ‘honesty’ and ‘openness’ (see
4.3.1 below). Sometimes these problems revolved around disclosure of
sero-status itself, with PHAs struggling over if, when and how to tell their
partners, and partners struggling with anger or disappointment about not being
told sooner. More often, however, feelings of frustration were the result of the
belief that one or the other partner was not being completely ‘open’ about his
or her feelings and that this made it difficult for the couple to work together
to solve common problems. Spouses and partners frequently reported that their
sero-positive partners’ seemed unwilling to talk about the disease and things
associated with it like negative emotions, fear, death and the future. At the
same time, sero-negative partners were ambivalent about introducing these
topics themselves, not wanting to create even more stress for the PHA than s/he
was already feeling. PHAs, as well, sometimes felt their partners were not
completely honest with them, especially about sexual activities. ‘He is afraid
of you but doesn’t dare to say so because he doesn’t want to hurt you’, said
one participant, ‘so you have to observe him’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 588/589).
Part of this difficulty around talking about HIV came from
differences in the strategies partners used to cope with the infection
Sereo-negative partners often took a more ‘activist’ approach (Anderson 1992a),
encouraging the PHA to be proactive in seeking treatment and information and in
talking about symptoms, negative feelings, fear of death and ‘the meaning of
life’. Some even accompanied their partners on clinic visits or helped them
make lists of things to ask the doctor to make sure they ‘got it right’, or
took it upon themselves to disclose their partner’s sero-staus to healthcare
workers or family members. PHAs on the other hand, often preferred to deal with
their difficulties themselves or to seek help from outsiders, and sometimes
complained that their partners ‘didn’t
understand’:
F: But you don’t want to let him
know that you sweat...
PHA: I can feel that he is
concerned about me. But the problem is that what
he wants me to do is useless. He
thinks I’m just not listening to him if
I don’t consult a doctor. He doesn’t understand. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 47/54)
In many cases, the PHA’s spouse or partner was one of the
only people in the PHAs’ life outside of the clinic who knew about the PHA’s
sero-status, and this ‘privileged position’ was sometimes seen to bring with it
particular stress and feelings of responsibility. Partners and spouses had to
play multiple roles, to function as the PHA’s primary caregiver, cook,
housekeeper, to provide the bulk of the PHA’s emotional support, and to act as
the main mediator in relationships with family members, friends, employers, and
healthcare workers. One participant justified his decision to disclose his
partner’s sero-status to his sister like this:
Finally he had to enter the
hospital. I thought the situation cannot go on like this because it was
impossible for me to handle this kind of situation all by myself. I thought
that at least one of his family members should know about the situation, and so
I talked about it with his sister. (Non pro Caregivers Grp. 1, 408/414)
Power differences were also a concern for sero-negative
partners, but their perspective on power was different from that of PHAs. Rather than seeing themselves as more
powerful, they saw their sero-negative partners as more powerful; because of
their partner’s infection they sometimes found it difficult to refuse requests
or to ‘live their own lives’ and believed that their partners sometimes took
advantage of this situation.
Among the most important relationships PHAs talked about
were their relationships with other PHAs, and it was through these
relationships that feelings of loneliness and social isolation were often
alleviated. HIV diagnosis almost always results in a redefinition of one’s
self-image and one’s social roles as PHAs search for a way to make sense of
their condition. Other PHAs serve as role models both for understanding and
predicting physical changes and learning how to cope, both psychologically and
socially. ‘Becoming a PHA’ involves more than just an HIV diagnosis; it
involves a gradual and often ambivalent process of socialization into a new
‘culture’ (Ariss 1997).
The ambivalence involved in this process emerged time and
again in our focus groups discussions with PHAs as participants sought to
reconcile issues of individual and collective identity. On one hand, they
emphasized their solidarity with other PHAs and the important role this played
in helping them cope with their infection. On the other hand, they also sought
to distance themselves from other PHAs, emphasizing the uniqueness of their
individual circumstances and problems.
Participants often described their interactions with other
PHAs as bringing feelings of ‘safety’, ‘acceptance’, ‘relaxation’ and,
‘something to depend on’. Relationships with other PHAs also played a role in
helping participants understand their disease better, adhere to their treatment
regimens and deal with psychological crises. Often meeting other PHAs shortly
after diagnosis was portrayed as a kind of emotional turning point. Finally,
interacting with other PHAs afforded participants a way to resist labeling and
stigmatization through what Goffman (1963) calls ‘the collectivization of
experience’.
PHA1: Yes, it’s good. When we come
together, we can have something to depend on. This can release our suffering
from the disease. The time goes faster. If not, it’s very boring and numb for
us to stay at home.....(laughter)
PHA2: It’s really boring to say at
home all the time.
PHA3 Surely it is boring.
PHA1: Sometimes we can share our
happiness together. (PHAs Non-gay < 2yrs 67/74)
Sharing of medical information was one of the most important
aspects of PHAs’ interaction with one another. In the face of uncertainty and
ambiguity regarding their prognosis from medical professionals, other PHAs
provided them with concrete images of ‘the HIV infected body’ against which to
measure their own physical condition. Often this resulted in renewed optimism
when they witnessed their peers exhibiting health and vitality:
I had been very pessimistic. I
couldn’t see the future and I thought I would die in two years. But just at
this time, I met a lot of new friends. Some of them had had the disease for
seven to eight years, but they were still very strong and vigorous, looked so
healthy. They gave me a good example. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 3017/3023)
Interactions with other PHAs, however, were not always described
as positive, and some participants admitted to avoiding other PHAs or feeling
uncomfortable talking to them. One reason was that, just as knowing other PHAs
who were healthy and coping well could increase self confidence, witnessing
their peers struggling with severe health problems or watching them die brought
on feelings of anxiety and fear. Others had difficulty interacting with other
PHAs because of their own negative perceptions of the virus and the people and
behaviors associated with it:
Son of PHA: It’s quite funny. She
still considers the disease something very negative, please don’t mind me
saying this, that it is something always related to people who are promiscuous
or those gay people. She understands that she is a sufferer. She has no problem
with that. She knows that she’s not that kind of person. But after all the
disease is related to those kinds of things. Therefore, she can’t overcome her feelings.
When the AIDS prevention
commercials come on TV, she changes the channel every time. Sometimes I catch her changing channels
(laughter). So she ....
Man: She doesn’t want to face...
Son: (laughter) She doesn’t want to see them. In fact, I made her go
for checkups on Saturdays for the sake of both of us. I understand her
condition and I can accompany her. But, and.. please don’t mind me saying
this. I’m completely accepting of these
kinds of things and I would not discriminate against anybody. But for her, she
discriminates against these people. It’s very obvious that when she sees these
people she becomes very unpleasant and unnatural.
Man: She sees herself as different
from them…
Son: That’s right. (Non pro Caregivers Grp. 1 630/685)
Finally, reluctance to interact with other PHAs was seen as
part of a strategy to maintain a ‘normal’ life, other PHAs serving to
unnecessarily remind participants of their ‘new identity’: ‘At the beginning I
accepted other patients because I wanted to talk with them,’ said one
participant, ‘but later I avoided them because I didn’t want to always be reminded’
(PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 618/619). Another said, ‘I joined one meeting like this
one in Canada and we shared many problems. However, I don’t want to join this
kind of activity many times because I don’t want to be reminded that I have
AIDS’ (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs.txt 686/689).
Reluctance to interact with other PHAs was particularly
characteristic of more recently diagnosed participants, and those who had been
living with the virus longer sometimes talked about their own initial
reluctance to join PHA activities after their positive test results.
Particularly for asymptomatic PHAs, joining such activities often symbolized
taking on the identity of ‘a patient’, an identity that they wanted to resist
for as long as possible. Integrating into the ‘PHA community’, or, as our
participants put it, ‘becoming a member’, was also associated with a
kind of ‘culture shock’ (Kreps and Kunimoto 1994), a feeling of being
overwhelmed by the need to deal with new forms of interaction and new kinds of
social identities.
For those participants who interacted frequently with other
PHAs in the context of support groups and NGO or clinic sponsored activities,
the advantages of the support and care they experienced were seen to outweigh
the above concerns. This interaction, however, was not seen as devoid of
difficulties. Some mentioned that, along with the sense of solidarity, there
was also sometimes a sense of competition as they shared their difficulties:
PHA:I think members can help but
also attack each other.
F: Examples?
PHA: If someone says he is
suffering, another will say he is suffering more. Some don’t comfort you if you
are suffering but laugh at you instead. (PHAs Non-Gay > 2 yrs., 1157/1161)
There was also sometimes a sense of jealousy when PHAs felt
that their peers had more access to care and support, especially from friends
and family members, than they did:
As for me at that time, I also
dared not tell my family that I was sick, so they seldom came and visited me.
It was very miserable for me. Therefore I was very jealous when he stayed in
the bed next to me. His friends kept coming to the hospital to visit him. Some
of the people brought him soup, and some brought him congee. But I got nothing.
It was so miserable for me. (PHAs Non-gay < 2yrs., 916/922)
Sometimes shows of solidarity, especially when they came in
the form of advice, were seen to violate participants’ sense of ‘independence’
(Scollon and Scollon 1995). As PHAs interacted in our focus group discussions, they
continually resisted applying other people’s solutions to their own
circumstances. ‘I’m not like you,’ or ‘your situation is different from mine’
were frequent responses when participants shared their coping strategies, and
they were particularly resistant when they felt one PHA was trying to
‘represent’ or impose his views on others:
PHA1: My case is different...
PHA3: You are different because you
don’t need to take medicine.
PHA1:I choose not to take it.
PHA3:You can do fine for a long
time even if you don’t take it.
PHA1: I open myself=
PHA3: No, not because of that=
PHA1: You just open half of
yourself=
PHA3: We are open=
PHA2: I don’t think he opens
himself thoroughly...
PHA1: It’s not true to say someone
opens himself thoroughly...I open
myself 80%.
PHA2:You say we are ‘that kind of
people’ so I can say you haven’t opened
yourself.
PHA3: You still categorize us.
(PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 224/264)
So you cannot use your example to
attack me for not having perseverance and not having confidence to learn what
Master Lo teaches. How can you sneer at me for giving up....you say that I’ve
got no confidence and perseverance to learn Qi Gong, but you’ve got to know
that you are a very special case. Even normal young people cannot walk faster
than you, not to mention us. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 777/783)
Participants were particularly concerned when they felt
other PHAs were portraying their own views and experiences as representative of
PHAs as a whole, especially in their interactions with non-PHAs, and often
reminded one another in the discussions that the views expressed were
individual views and that they ‘couldn’t represent all patients’.
The difficulties expressed by our participants are typical
of situations in which stigmatized individuals come together to negotiate a
‘shared identity’ (Goffman 1963). On the one hand, this shared identity becomes
an essential tool in dealing with stigma. On the other hand, it is a threat to
individual autonomy. Becoming a ‘member’ requires the uncomfortable choice of
taking on the stigma itself, HIV infection, as a maker of identity (Goffman
1963, Small 1997). While PHAs in some Western countries have a long tradition
of ‘identity politics’ (Samson 1993) by people with disabilities, gays and
lesbians and racial minorities, providing PHAs with a precedent for community
building, in Hong Kong, public identities, particularly when they are ‘deviant’
identities, based on attributes other
than family ties or school or workplace affiliation are still relatively rare
(Bond and Hwang 1986, Jones et al. 1998, Lau and Kuan 1988).
Just as with primary caregivers, PHAs relationships with one
another were negotiated through a dialectic of ‘approach and avoidance’. In
some ways, however, this negotiation was even more problematic as PHAs were not
bound to one another by socially ratified relationships (such as kinship or
professional ties) with clearly established roles and expectations. A community
of PHAs is in many respects an ‘accidental community’, often involving members
whom, in other circumstances, would not have been thrown together, and members
often bring to the community very different ‘cultures’ and sets of expectations
about how to communicate and interact. Under these circumstances, establishing
solidarity while at the same time maintaining and respecting individual
differences can sometimes be a delicate balancing act.
Many participants saw their coming together as important not
just for providing support and mutual care, but also for finding ways to communicate
their needs and problems to others. In a situation in which the fear of
disclosure and stigmatization constrained their individual voices, developing a
‘collective voice’ gave them a way to negotiate Quality of Life issues like access to care, social discrimination
and Government policy. This ‘collective coming out’ currently being navigated
by PHAs in Hong Kong will doubtless have an important affect on the social
environment around HIV and AIDS and may act as a precursor to more opportunities
for successful individual disclosure.
Perhaps it is surprising, given the relative affluence of
Hong Kong and the provision of low cost medical care and treatment, that
financial difficulties emerged as such an big concern for PHAs in our study.
The primary reason for financial difficulties experienced by our participants
was what they perceived to be their diminished capacity to hold down a job.
Sometimes this diminished capacity was a result of actual physical or cognitive
problems resulting from HIV or antioretroviral treatments. Usually, however,
these physical challenges were only part of the picture. Along with them, and
often related to them, were the significant psychological and social challenges
involved in reconciling the constraints imposed by HIV infection or HIV
medications with the demands of work:
My work has been affected to a
large extent. There are many people in my work place and they can notice the
changes brought by the medicine. I feel better one day and worse the next. I
become angry. I always forget to do things. My job is very competitive but I
don’t have enough energy to deal with it. My colleagues ask what problems I
have and I don’t know how to reply to them. I feel bored and want to hang around
but my physical state can’t support this. (PHAs Gay < 2 yrs., 27/35)
One of the main factors behind feelings of diminished work
capacity was the fear of disclosure. Sometimes, the stress involved in
negotiating the taking of medication in the workplace and in concealing or
explaining visible symptoms or side-effects was seen as just as debilitating as
manifestations of illness or side-effects that impaired physical or metal
functioning:
Just think about it. The pressure
is so big that it’s so hard to work. If you take the medicine to the office,
your boss and your colleagues will see you taking medicine. How can you explain
it to them? If they knew more about the disease and that it’s not necessary to
be afraid, then they would not be scared. But now you’re so scared others would
know, and if they know, there will be no place that you can go in Hong Kong.
(PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 915/921)
Despite the legal protection afforded to PHAs in Hong Kong
under the Disabilities Discrimination Ordinance, not a single participant was
confident that they could avoid dismissal in the event their condition was
discovered by employers or colleagues. ‘ Even if you can find a job,’ one
participant insisted, ‘when others know about it, you would definitely lose the
job. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 135/136). Other participants had similar fears:
In this society, I don’t believe
any company would employ you knowing that you’ve caught such a disease
(laughter) if you say it out… (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 359/362)
If you are working in certain
organization and you say it out, even if you are working for the Hong Kong
government, the biggest employer in Hong Kong, if you say it out, I think the
government department would fire you. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 508/512)
Just imagine you teach in the
school, the parents! "Oh you will infect my son! You are an alien!"
(PHAs Expatriates, 902/903)
We want to find jobs because our
health is not bad, but when looking for a job, we are so afraid that people
will find out about our condition. Those people would be so scared that no one
would employ us. There is so much discrimination out there. Even if you can perform very well on the
job, and the organization had promised to employ you, once they find out that
you’ve got such a disease, they would definitely go back on their word
immediately. So there are pressures from different directions. (PHAs Non-Gay
< 2yrs., 120/129)
Sometimes, just the act of applying for a job presented
significant problems:
PHA2: When I fill in the
application form for a job, it asks if I have been
admitted to hospital for more than
seven days in the year. What should I write? I won’t
write down ‘no’. But I ought to
write more if I say ‘yes’. So I always leave the
space blank. I don’t want to tell
lies. But this can’t be avoided. I have to
fill in such forms on many
occasions.
PHA1: Did they ask you later?
PHA2: No.
PAH3: Sometimes they will ask what
disease you have if you haven’t worked
for almost a year.
PHA2: I tried telling them that I had
problems in my lungs at the beginning but
that didn’t work because they were
afraid to hire me because they were afraid my lung disease would be transmitted
to others. (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs
157/189)
Another barrier to working was the necessity for PHAs to
access medical services during working hours. ‘If you can find a job,’ asked
one, ‘how can you go to the clinic regularly?’ (PHAs > 2 yrs.,194/195)
For those participants who were or had been out of work,
public assistance was often an alternative, but the amount was seen as
insufficient to meet their needs and applying for public assistance often meant
maneuvering through a complicated bureaucracy. One of the social workers we
interviewed, for example, told the following story:
Recently the SSA is very strict and
has to cut many services. I have a client who has leg problems. He is unlucky
because he has joint problems and lost his leg in February and has to use
crutches. It’s troublesome to buy crutches because he needs a doctor and
physio-therapist to write notes for him and he has to hand in many forms.
Actually the procedure is simple. He only needs a file opened by a social
worker in the hospital. Once he explained that he couldn’t go to the clinic
because he couldn’t walk. He applied for SSA and wanted to claim the taxi fare.
But unfortunately the head was not around and his claim was cut. You know, they
have to hand in a doctor’s note, receipt and taxi’s slip to claim money. It is
not as easy as it was in the past. (Pro Caregivers Grp. 2, 611/628)
Issues of public assistance were closely connected with how
illness and disability were defined, and whose definition (the client’s or the
caregiver’s) was more valid. A ‘healthy’ PHA from the point of view of a health
care or social welfare worker, for example, might ‘feel’ unable to work for a
variety of physical and psychological reasons, one of the chief ones being the
often debilitating side-effects of the very medicines that are keeping him or
her ‘healthy’:
Because of this, you lack a
confidence for working, then it is very difficult to find a job. However, not
all of us are qualified to claim public assistance from the government. So it’s
very difficult for us who don’t qualify for public assistance but find it
difficult to live without public assistance. This pressure is very great. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 788/794)
At the same time, there were doubts in the minds of a few of
our participants as to how fair and impartial the ‘gatekeepers’ to public
assistance were, especially the doctors who control the ‘definition’ of
‘disability:
Man3: The doctors will judge it. If
they think you are physically disabled, then you are. I know some people who
seem to be normal but their doctors declared them physically disabled. The
doctors have much power and can control many things.
F: They have a standard to decide
how much you can get.
Man3: There are no rules. It
depends on the relationship you have with them.
Man2: They judge it.
Man3: I know a patient who was poor
and he got nothing and he was later approved by the doctor and got double the
subsidy. It depends a lot on the relationship. (PHAs Non-Gay > 2 yrs.,
470/489)
Being out of work was not only seen as heavily influenced by
fears of disclosure, it was also seen as making issues around disclosure to friends
and family members even more complicated. Explaining to friends and relatives
why they were out of work and asking for financial help from people to whom
they had not disclosed were seen and particularly difficult. ‘If your relatives
ask you what your job is every year, and you just tell them you are looking for
a job,’ wondered one participant, ‘
what are they going to think?’ (PHAs Gay > 2 yrs., 811/813). In addition,
financial worries often brought to PHAs feelings of guilt for not being able to
contribute financially to the family or being a financial burden on them.
Financial difficulties also affected availability and quality of care, limiting participants’ ability to
visit private doctors or dentists to avoid the long waits involved in public
clinics and hospitals, or to access alternative treatments like traditional
Chinese medicine.
Finally, financial problems were seen to limit social
inclusion, making it difficult not just for participants to go out to eating or
entertainment venues with friends, but even to join clinic and NGO sponsored
activities for PHAs:
PHA: I believe that it is the
truth. If you could really organize some activities, that would be very helpful
to us the patients. But even if the activity is helpful to us, our ability is
limited if we have to pay for our own costs, even if it is a very small amount
indeed. As for me, there are many things that I’m not able to do. I’ve had
numerous kinds of diseases, and I can’t work all the time, so there is
definitely problems in my living. For the other patients, they can’t find work
to do even if they are able to do it. Their ability is limited just as much as
if they were sick. Therefore our sources of income are limited. If you ask us
to pay even just twenty dollars, it might be very demanding. (PHAs Non-gay <
2yrs., 39/50)
Like most aspects of living with HIV, the issue of negative
emotions cannot be effectively quarantined from other facets and domains. Negative
feelings are not discrete ‘psychological’ entities that can be understood and
dealt with in isolation from their causes in and effects on physical health and
social functioning. Some psychologists, in fact, are increasingly coming to
regard emotions as social rather than psychological in nature, arising out of
social conditions and heavily dependent on cultural models (see for example
Harre and Parrot eds. 1996). It is also important to remember that emotions are
reciprocal: people observe, interpret and play off of other people’s emotions.
So, an examination of negative emotions and their effect on Quality of Life would be incomplete
without considering the negative emotions experienced by or perceived from other people, as well as those
experienced by people with HIV/AIDS themselves.

Fig. 5 Negative emotions expressed by PHAs (as lines of
coded segments)
Figure 5 shows a
summary of the amount of time PHAs in our focus groups spent talking about
various negative emotions, the lighter bar indicating how much these emotions
were attributed to themselves and the darker bar showing how much they were
attributed to other people. On the whole, emotions associated with anxiety were
more predominant than those associated with depression. The emotions discussed
most frequently were fear, pressure, worry and anger.
Although sometimes these emotions came from physical
problems (symptoms and side effects) or psychological issues (guilt, fear of
death), their source was most often portrayed as social. As with the other
facets we have examined, negative feelings were closely related to difficulties
in disclosure and social stigmatization, as well as difficulties in maintaining
and finding satisfaction in personal and familial relationships.
When PHAs talked about their own worries and fears, they
talked most about the fear of being ‘discovered’ by friends or family members,
the fear that others would disclose their secret, the fear of being rejected,
the fear of being a burden on their families, the fear of infecting their partners or lovers, the fear of losing
their jobs, the fear of being talked about behind their backs, and the fear of
not receiving adequate care, particularly in critical moments. The most
persistent fears, though, seemed to be those related to disclosure and
discovery. ‘It’s not a matter of whether others find out or not, said one
participant, ‘the point is, in your heart you always fear that people will find
out’ (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs.,139/141).
Fear of disclosure bred other fears, like the fear of making
new friends or of accepting invitations from old ones, the fear of taking
medicine in public or being seen accessing facilities for PHAs. Although many
mentioned that they feared death, a worse fear was to die alone.
Just as many of these fears had their source in social
interaction, they also had social consequences, leading to social isolation and
making it difficult for PHAs to access emotional and psychological support.
Fears associated with social interaction also affected PHAs’ ability to access
medical care and to negotiate successfully with healthcare workers.
Almost half of the time PHA participants talked about fear,
however, it was not their own fear they were talking about, but the fear that
others felt towards them. Sometimes this fear was attributed to individuals,
healthcare workers, sexual partners, friends and family members, and sometimes
it was discussed as a society-wide phenomena, an atmosphere of fear surrounding
the disease itself. Mostly they attributed this fear to ignorance. Several
believed, however, that its source was ‘education’, specifically the ‘fear
tactics’ used in many of the Government’s AIDS prevention messages:
PHA1: Originally the government’s
position was to make the public focus on the problem, asking the public not to
be so sexually active, something like that. Maybe they didn’t mean to scare
people, but sometimes it’s difficult to prevent.
PHA2: It’s been too scary.
PHA1: They have scared the people
so much that that they have lost their minds, and can’t think rationally about
the disease. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 2777/2783)
When
the government promoted the disease before, they used a pyramid as the symbol,
and they exaggerated the disease. Now
whenever people hear of the disease, they think that the disease is so
contagious that merely sitting beside me would infect them. People feel so
panicked about it. (PHAs Non-Gay < 2yrs., 156/161)
Other people’s fears created almost as many barriers to QOL
for PHAs as did their own fears, making it difficult, for example, for them to
access quality care outside of HIV specialist settings and to build strong and
reliable support networks. It also had serious consequences on their feelings
of self-esteem and their ability to perform appropriate social, cultural and
familial roles.
Another common emotion discussed by our participants was
‘pressure’ (at lek). ‘Anyone who has this disease and says they don’t feel
pressure must be lying,’ said one of our participants. (PHAs Non-gay < 2
yrs., 869/871). Pressures they described included the stress of concealing
their condition from others, of worrying about the consequences of their
infection on future health and financial stability, of not being able to
fulfill important roles in the family and in society, of not being able to find
work and of having to deal with complicated doses of HIV related medication and
information. Again, at the source of much of this pressure were issues
regarding disclosure: ‘The biggest
psychological pressure,’ said one participant, ‘is caused by the society’ (PHAs
Non-Gay < 2yrs., 140/142)
Several of the participants associated pressure with
treatment issues, taking medicines, visiting healthcare workers and waiting for
the results of clinical tests:
Well...Taking medicine is very
difficult for me. It requires me to take it on time, but I’m not a good patient
and I find it very troublesome. Also, some of the medicine is taken before meal
and some after meal, it’s too hard for me (laughter). Especially when you are
busy working, how could you have the heart to remember what time to take
medicine. I try to pay attention to the exact time for taking medicine. But
when you have many things to do, you will find it a very great pressure to set
the alarm watch again and again. And I have to explain to my company why I take
medicine, and this is equally troublesome for me. (PHAs Non-Gay <
2yrs..txt 833/844)
There are some pressures recently as
I have to do the blood test and read the reports. Sometimes the results are
really poor, but sometimes it’s better again. It is very difficult for me. I
have to keep saying to myself that the condition can go up and down again and
again. I find it very hard. So I really want to escape and not to see the
doctor..(laughter). But now it’s better and I’m a good girl again. (PHAs
Non-Gay < 2yrs., 807/815)
The pressures surrounding treatment were never simple. They
involved not just cognitive issues (remembering to take medicine on time,
feeling anxiety about the results of CD4 and viral load tests) but social
issues as well (managing symptoms, side-effects and health related information
in their interactions with healthcare workers, family members, partners and
friends), something healthcare workers must remember as they help PHAs adhere
with their treatment regimens. The social pressures around taking medicine can
come not just from people at home or in the workplace who do not know of the
PHA’s sero-positivity, but also from healthcare workers themselves, and PHAs
might be reluctant to talk openly with doctors and nurses about missing doses
or modifying their schedules if they feel such disclosure will result in
rebuke. Central to the pressure associated with treatment was the fear of
‘judgment’, whether that judgment came in the form of the suspicious looks of
people who did not know of their condition or in the form of perceived
‘surveillance’ from their caregivers.
Another kind of pressure discussed by our participants and
also associated with caregivers was the pressure to display what caregivers
(and other PHAs) recognized as a ‘positive attitude’. Central to the ethos of
both the PHA’s and the caregivers that we interviewed was the notion that one’s
ability to cope with HIV infection depended crucially on the attitude one took
towards it. The category of attitude
was one of the most heavily coded of our empirical categories. Research in HIV
infection and other severe or chronic diseases has shown that this is indeed
true, that attitude plays a major role not just in day to day coping but alson
in physical functioning and recovery (see for example Greer 1979, Pettingale
1984). For our participants this ethos clearly encouraged self reliance and
provided hope in the face of the many uncertainties involved in living with
HIV. At the same time, however, the elevation of ‘positive attitude’ to the
state of a ‘community value’ and the emergance of what one might call a
‘discourse of positive attitude’ that pervaded support group meetings and
clinical consultations can create a social atmosphere in which PHAs might find
it more difficult to express negative emotions, a kind of stigmatization of
sadness. In focus groups with PHAs, discussions of ‘positive attitude’
sometimes led to conflicts among participants when what one member intended as
encouragement was heard as a kind of criticism. What Anderson (1992) calls the
‘tyranny of positive attitude’ can sometimes serve to reinforce an perception
of disease that emphasizes individual responsibility over social forces,
leading to a subtle guilt when participants do not display a level of coping
and positive attitude which they believe those around them expect.
Underlying all of these specific stressors in the PHAs daily
life was a more general feeling of pressure which came from the constant
awareness of their situation, the psychological burden of carrying the virus:
Therefore I always feel that this is a kind of threat. In
our daily lives, some people say that sorrow follows extreme pleasure. But this
is not true for me. I always feel that the threat is very close to me. Even
though you might feel very happy, once you think of the fact that you have
caught the disease, you would become
very unhappy immediately. (PHAs Non-gay < 2yrs., 2-771/777)
Just as PHAs were as concerned with other people’s fears as
they were with their own, they also spent almost as much time talking about the
worry and pressure experienced by those around them as they did about that
which they experienced themselves. They were particularly concerned about the
emotional and financial strain their condition created for partners and family
members. This concern resulted in additional pressure on PHAs themselves, and,
as discussed above, concealing their condition or HIV related pain or symptoms
was seen as a strategy for avoiding this pressure. ‘I won’t tell my family so I
won’t have so much pressure,’ one of our participants remarked (PHAs Non-Gay
< 2yrs., 2949/2950).
This strategy, of course, was a Catch-22, as PHAs traded in the pressure of worrying about the
feelings of those who knew for the pressure of worrying about how to keep them
from knowing.
The third most frequently expressed emotions was anger. Some
participants expressed anger towards particular individuals whom they felt had
discriminated against them or betrayed them, towards institutions, and towards
society as a whole for not accepting them. More often, though, this anger was
not directed at specific parties, but rather was an anger towards the virus,
their predicament, or, more often, an anger towards themselves.
Non-professional caregivers also noted difficulties in dealing with flare ups
of temper and moodiness from PHAs. Often this anger was a way of coping with
pressure or frustration at physical, metal or social limitations. Just as with
other emotions, PHAs were also significantly affected by others’ anger towards
them, the anger of spouses, family members and healthcare workers, and avoiding
this anger was yet another reason for concealing things.
One of the biggest factors leading to negative feelings was
the uncertainty associated with living with HIV. This uncertainly pervaded the
physical domain as PHAs struggled to accept the unpredictability of HIV
infection and it’s treatments, the social domain as they constantly wondered
how much they could reveal to others and tried to second guess what other
people’s reactions towards them might be or mean, and the psychological domain as they worried whether rejection from
loved ones or bad news from physicians was just around the corner.
I was in holiday and started
coughing, I could only stay for a few days because I was thinking, ‘Oh my god!
I maybe I’ve caught tuberculosis. You got to be careful about that because, as
you say, you can think yourself in perfect condition one day, and the next ...
(PHAs Expatriates, 353/356)
PHA1: As for me, what scares me
most is, just as what they always talk about,
the possibility that the disease could strike unexpectedly. Just as X
(another participant) said, though now she doesn’t have any symptoms, what she is scared of most is the
unexpected.
F: Something you can’t predict.
PHA2: Yes....that’s the truth.
PHA3: Yes, you cannot predict anything.
Even though you are very vigorous for the time being, you can’t predict what
might happen. (PHAs Non-gay < 2yrs., 677/685)
Not knowing if there will be a cure
for the disease is one thing. But when I can leave the hospital, I really have
many troubles in my mind. What should I do? Now I’m leaving the hospital. What
should I do? I dare not to have sex (laughter), but I really have that urge in
me. What should I do? So I feel very annoyed. This is very annoying to our
emotions and our state of mind. (PHAs Non-gay < 2yrs., 229/235)
You start to think everything is
because of the HIV. You get tired and you think it’s because of my HIV, but
other people at work are just as tired. So you got to be careful. (PHAs
Expatriates, 360/362)
Living with HIV is a
virtual ‘study in uncertainty’; uncertainty accompanies it from the very
beginning as clients wait for anti-body test results; it accompanies diagnosis
as they wonder how they were infected and how long they have been infected; it
fills the asymptotic period as they worry about potential medical problems and
rejection from loved ones, and it manifests with every symptom and side-effect
as they wonder what the symptom or side-effect might mean to their future
health and well-being (Alonzo & Reynolds 1995, Brashers et al. 1998).
Studies of HIV-related uncertainty have shown that uncertainty is negatively
associated with Quality of Life (McCain & Cella, 1995) and
psychological adjustment (Ramsey, 1990). Uncertainty has also been linked with
the level of desired communication with healthcare workers (Brashers et al.,
1996). Our participants as well, felt sometimes that the answers given to the
by healthcare workers and the information they obtained about their own
condition (like the results of clinical tests) and HIV infection in general
sometimes served to increase rather than decrease their feelings of
uncertainty. The uncertainty of not knowing the condition of one’s health, for
example, was not always relieved by learning one’s CD4 and viral load results,
but rather replaced with a new uncertainty as to how those results should be
interpreted. Although antiretroviral therapies hold the promise of improved
survival, ambiguity about the durability of treatment response and ultimate
survival sometimes add to the level of uncertainty with which PHAs must cope
(Brashers et al 1999).