Pubdate: Sun, 15 Dec 2002 Source: Daily Press (VA) Copyright: 2002 The Daily Press Contact: http://www.dailypress.com Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/585 Author: Troy Graham Series Index: Previous Article: Next Article: Series: Four Lives, One Last Chance - A Year In Drug Court: Part 4 Of 41 ACT I. LINDA Linda had been in trouble with the cops so many times that her latest bust seemed routine. For the past several years, she had been living along a strip of low-rent hotel rooms on Jefferson Avenue, where she spent her days financing a crack addiction by turning tricks. Police officers knew her well, and she'd been arrested enough times to know the drill. She'd be locked up for a while, and then her charges would probably get knocked down to a lesser offense. She'd be out in no time. She didn't expect this stay in jail to be any different than before. When she arrived, the deputies placed Linda on the drug block, the portion of the Newport News Jail where the chronically addicted are housed and enrolled in a drug program called Inner Reflections. Some addicts get their first glimpse at sobriety there, a chance to see what the chemicals and the drug life have been doing to their minds and bodies. In addition to counseling, they can get free HIV screens as well. Local health officials know the statistics and realities of addiction. Drug use is associated with about a third of all new HIV cases in recent years, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And that figure could be much higher because many unscreened addicts don't know they have the disease. The greatest number of new cases are found among women living in the inner city, experts say. Many of them inject drugs or, like Linda, engage in high-risk behavior, such as having sex for drug money. When Linda landed in jail, HIV was not on her mind. She often insisted that her tricks use a condom, and she had been tested twice before, including a test that had come back negative just a few months earlier. One day shortly after she arrived, a woman from CSB - the Hampton-Newport News Community Services Board - came through the drug block offering the HIV screens, which consisted of a simple swab of the cheek. Everyone, including Linda, volunteered to take the test. Linda knew there were times when she wasn't as careful as she liked to believe, times when she ignored her own condom requirement or used a needle to inject cocaine. "Hey, there's always a chance," she thought. But, in reality, she wasn't worried. A blond-haired country girl with a lilting Southern accent, Linda had come from a hard-drinking North Carolina background. With a bubbly personality and a hearty laugh, she had always been the life of the party and popular with the boys. She had spent her life moving around the country, chasing good times and leaving two children to be raised by her parents. She had rarely thought about consequences. She didn't want to think about those things, particularly when the partying deteriorated into streetwalking and crack-smoking. A few days after the test, a deputy came to her cell and took her to the counselor's office. "What's up?" Linda asked, standing in the windowless room. "Linda, sit down," the counselor said, motioning to a chair. "That test we took the other week came back positive." "No, it couldn't have," Linda answered. "I just had two tests that came back negative." "Yes, Linda, they're 99.7 percent accurate," the woman said. Because she did not know the difference between HIV and AIDS, Linda thought she had just been handed a death sentence. "No," she said again. "It couldn't have." The counselor and the CSB worker tried to explain the difference between HIV and AIDS. They tried to tell her she could still live a long life with HIV, which is simply the virus that causes AIDS. They tried to explain that new antiviral drugs could fight HIV, driving it down to such small levels that she might never develop the deadly disease of AIDS. But the terror that washed over her thoughts drowned out those soothing explanations. Even if she had heard them, it wouldn't have mattered. In Linda's mind, there was still no way she had HIV. She insisted that the test had been wrong, and she demanded a more comprehensive blood test. Devastated, Linda returned to her cell with a manila envelope stuffed with HIV literature and brochures. She gave the news to her cell mate, a woman with a similar background, and the two lay together in Linda's bunk, crying. The brochures and literature remained untouched as Linda sank into a deep depression and refused to come out of her cell. Meanwhile, the other women on the block pieced together what had happened. Linda could see them whispering in the corners, and she knew they were talking about her. When she finally did come out of her cell, the other women refused to go near her. With her frustration, depression and fear mounting, Linda finally exploded in a fit of curses at another inmate, nearly getting into a fight. Then she asked to be moved to an isolation cell. In the waning days of summer, she stewed in the tiny space, thinking about the road that had brought her to this point. She was scared. She didn't know whether she could stay clean. She didn't know whether she could fight HIV and drug addiction at the same time. She had already agreed to enter Drug Court, but now she faced an even more uncertain future. When the blood tests came back, confirming that she had HIV, there was no denying the truth. With nothing else to do and no where else to turn, Linda tried to find some hope by reading the brochures and leafing through the Bible. There was good information in both. One day, a sympathetic deputy pointed out a passage in the Bible - Psalm 27: 1 - that Linda has clung to ever since. The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid? In the handouts, Linda found that her notions about HIV were mostly wrong. She wasn't living with a death sentence. She could fight HIV, stay healthy and stay alive. She could learn to live with HIV. But there was one thing the counselors made clear to her: If she continued to use drugs, the HIV medication wouldn't work. That dire warning echoed off the cinder-block cell walls until she came to believe one fundamental truth: "If I use again, I might as well put a gun in my mouth," she told herself. And Linda wanted to live. - --- MAP posted-by: Beth