- Jun 1, 2008
- 183
- 13
HIV can be manageable
by Manoj Jain
TEN years ago, an intelligent, reserved software engineer — a woman with the complexion of Halle Berry and the physique of a marathoner — came to my infectious-disease clinic, accompanied by her fiance. They’d been referred to me a few weeks after a rash and pneumonia prompted a clinic doctor to test the woman for HIV. The test came back positive. Her fiance, tested later, was HIV-negative.
Choosing my words carefully, I answered their questions about their future relationship, emphasizing condom use as well as blood and body fluid precautions. They married as scheduled, and I placed her on a regimen of four medications: eight pills daily, taken at three different times throughout the day. As time went by, her health and immune system improved.
A few years after her diagnosis, my patient told me that she and her husband wanted to have a child. Concerned about the risk of transmitting HIV to her husband if they stopped using condoms, I said I would refer her to an in vitro fertilization clinic. But before I could do that, my patient informed me that she was pregnant.
A nearby academic medical center delivered her son by Caesarean section, using all precautions to protect the baby from infection. And it worked: He was healthy and HIV-negative. My patient did not breast-feed — again, to avoid transmission risks — and managed well as a new mother. Soon she went back to work and even got a promotion, to software manager. Some years later, she delivered a second son, also by C-section, also HIV-negative.
Her husband regularly took HIV tests; all were negative. (Not every unprotected sexual encounter results in infection, but it’s a kind of Russian roulette I don’t recommend.)
Over the years, my patient tolerated the usual side effects of the HIV medication: nausea, diarrhea and a rash. Her insurance covered the cost, so for a long time the most troublesome part was the pill burden and the regimented schedule.
Since only her parents and husband knew of her HIV status, carrying pills to work or to a dinner party was awkward. Then, several years ago she switched to Atripla, which combines three medications in one pill, taken once a day. Life became easier.
Her story is a remarkable chronicle of the advance of medicine and strong evidence of the importance of testing. Not only can my patient expect to live a relatively long and productive life, she can do it with the love and support of a healthy husband and children. None of this would have been possible without early detection .
In the early years of HIV, I recall feeling helpless as my patients’ bodies succumbed to the relentless attacks by the virus. As their immune systems disintegrated, common bacteria, parasites or tuberculosis organisms would infect their lungs or a usually innocuous fungus would invade the deep tissues of their brains, and eventually they died.
But in the mid-1990s, researchers developed HAART (highly active antiretroviral therapy) medicines that in various ways arrest the growth of the virus, reducing it to “undetectable levels.” Over the past decade and a half, for many in the developed world, HIV has become more like a chronic disease instead of a death sentence. — By arrangement with LA Times-Washington Post
by Manoj Jain
TEN years ago, an intelligent, reserved software engineer — a woman with the complexion of Halle Berry and the physique of a marathoner — came to my infectious-disease clinic, accompanied by her fiance. They’d been referred to me a few weeks after a rash and pneumonia prompted a clinic doctor to test the woman for HIV. The test came back positive. Her fiance, tested later, was HIV-negative.
Choosing my words carefully, I answered their questions about their future relationship, emphasizing condom use as well as blood and body fluid precautions. They married as scheduled, and I placed her on a regimen of four medications: eight pills daily, taken at three different times throughout the day. As time went by, her health and immune system improved.
A few years after her diagnosis, my patient told me that she and her husband wanted to have a child. Concerned about the risk of transmitting HIV to her husband if they stopped using condoms, I said I would refer her to an in vitro fertilization clinic. But before I could do that, my patient informed me that she was pregnant.
A nearby academic medical center delivered her son by Caesarean section, using all precautions to protect the baby from infection. And it worked: He was healthy and HIV-negative. My patient did not breast-feed — again, to avoid transmission risks — and managed well as a new mother. Soon she went back to work and even got a promotion, to software manager. Some years later, she delivered a second son, also by C-section, also HIV-negative.
Her husband regularly took HIV tests; all were negative. (Not every unprotected sexual encounter results in infection, but it’s a kind of Russian roulette I don’t recommend.)
Over the years, my patient tolerated the usual side effects of the HIV medication: nausea, diarrhea and a rash. Her insurance covered the cost, so for a long time the most troublesome part was the pill burden and the regimented schedule.
Since only her parents and husband knew of her HIV status, carrying pills to work or to a dinner party was awkward. Then, several years ago she switched to Atripla, which combines three medications in one pill, taken once a day. Life became easier.
Her story is a remarkable chronicle of the advance of medicine and strong evidence of the importance of testing. Not only can my patient expect to live a relatively long and productive life, she can do it with the love and support of a healthy husband and children. None of this would have been possible without early detection .
In the early years of HIV, I recall feeling helpless as my patients’ bodies succumbed to the relentless attacks by the virus. As their immune systems disintegrated, common bacteria, parasites or tuberculosis organisms would infect their lungs or a usually innocuous fungus would invade the deep tissues of their brains, and eventually they died.
But in the mid-1990s, researchers developed HAART (highly active antiretroviral therapy) medicines that in various ways arrest the growth of the virus, reducing it to “undetectable levels.” Over the past decade and a half, for many in the developed world, HIV has become more like a chronic disease instead of a death sentence. — By arrangement with LA Times-Washington Post
