Unfortunately, my experience was quite different. My interviewer started out with a few general questions, but got stalled when I responded to her question about my desire to get tested.
I have multiple sexual partners, I said, and stated that I wanted to make sure that I remained disease-free.
“Are you here with someone?” she asked, obviously a bit confused. I assured her that I was here with one of my partners, that he and I were both non-monogamous, and that we used condoms and barriers with other partners.
“You know you can still get diseases with a condom? You’re playing with fire there.”
Yes, I assured her I was aware that I was still at risk for herpes and HPV.
“And how do you know that your partner uses condoms with other people?”
I trust him.
“Do you know he’s clean?”
I knew his last test results, yes.
“And you believed him when he told you that?”
Why yes, yes I did; otherwise I wouldn’t be sleeping with him, or giving him the keys to my house and my truck. He also gets to feed my cats, an honor as grand and sacrosanct as getting to have sex with me.
I finally used my big-girl voice and told her that while I appreciated her concern, this was a decision of which I was fully aware of the consequences, and I had made these choices intelligently, ethically, and in full conjunction with all of my partners.
This was, fortunately, the first and only time that I’d ever been belittled, shamed, or criticized by a clinic staffer for my sexual choices. Usually, the response I get when I tell them that I’m consensually and carefully non-monogamous is either a professional, “Ok, let’s move on then,” or a supportive comment about my responsibility in taking safety precautions and choosing low-risk activities. I was quite honestly surprised by her reaction—but then again, I educate people about safer sex, so I’m in a better position to fully understand the ramifications of my choices and speak very clearly about them than the average clinic patron.
Once we finished the checklist, I asked her what specific STDs they would be testing for.
Her response? “We test for everything—why, what do you think you have?”
At this point, I almost walked out of the office. The rudeness of her response, coupled with her earlier behavior, left me flabbergasted. I reaffirmed that I simply wanted to know what she was going to be testing for, in order to be informed and understand what exactly was happening; after a few repeated requests, she gave me the answer I was looking for—they would be testing for HIV, Chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis, and trichomoniasis, as well as other signs of bacterial vaginosis. They would culture any sores that they might find during the vaginal exam to determine if they were HPV or Herpes, but would otherwise not test for those illnesses.
The doctor who actually performed my pelvic exam was professional and quick. She explained exactly what she was doing, and what it was testing for as she moved through the procedure. She did the usual for a pelvic exam—speculum, swabbing sides and cervix to collect cells for testing, and a bimanual exam to check for ovarian cysts or swelling. A small swab of my throat (to check for oral infections of STDs), and we were all done.
Joe and I met up in the waiting room; he was all done, but my tests for trich and BV would be a few minutes more, so we compared notes until they called my name to inform me (privately, of course) that I came back with negative results for each. The doctor took the time to explain what the results were, and what each of them meant. She also told me when I should call back for my non-HIV test results (they are reading within a week, at this clinic), as well as reminding me that I need to come back in person for my HIV results, as they do not give those over the phone. That is a fairly standard method of doing HIV tests; the goal is that clients receive test results in a private setting where they can be counseled either on reducing future risks or getting treatment or re-testing if the results are positive.
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