More Wormwood than Honey

More Wormwood than Honey
by Shawn McEvoy

My son, give attention to my wisdom, Incline your ear to my understanding; That you may observe discretion And your lips may reserve knowledge. For the lips of an adulteress drip honey And smoother than oil is her speech; But in the end she is bitter as wormwood, Sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to death, Her steps take hold of Sheol. - Proverbs 5:1-5

For about 20 hours late in 1998, I had AIDS.

I was a month from getting married. My wife-to-be had saved herself for me, and as such, she had a request: that I, who had regrettably failed to remain chaste in my youth, get tested for HIV before we exchanged vows. Happily I agreed.

The nurse who drew my blood told me one thing several times: "We can't call everyone back, so we will only contact you in the event of a positive test. No news is good news." Fair enough.

A week later, on a Friday afternoon, I returned home from work and checked my voice mail. One message. "Mr. McEvoy, this is Nurse Jones from the clinic. I'll need to talk to you very soon, but I am leaving for the weekend. I will attempt to contact you again on Monday."

Oh...

no...

My mind raced. The first thought was, "No way on earth I can wait all weekend to talk to her!" Talk about torture. That was followed with most of my past catching up to me. What had I done? Could I still get married? Even if Valerie still wanted me as a husband, would we ever be able to be intimate? Who would I have to contact from the past? Was I going to die?

Val's apartment was two floors up from mine. I called her, she came right down, and I told her the news.