HIV: The Morning After

dan glass: Rage, Resistance, Reconnection

Fri, 10 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

dan glass was born in 1983, the year HIV was first identified as HIV rather than the gay plague. They grew up under Thatcher's Section 28 with only EastEnders' Mark Fowler and tombstone adverts for reference. Death, isolation, internalised stigma - that was all HIV meant. When dan was diagnosed in their early twenties, they got drunk, went to a friend's house, cried, and she helped them to the toilet. The next morning, they told their boss it wasn't flu after all.

For five years, dan refused treatment. The fear was too deep, the conditioning too absolute. Section 28 had taught them they were wrong, that whatever happened was their fault, that no one would help. The gravity of that silence was lethal. When dan finally saw a doctor in Berlin who told them their CD4 count meant they had AIDS, they collapsed in the shower the next day.

What followed was transformation through community. A friend in Berlin, Juliana, threw a party where everyone screamed in each other's faces and painted their feet white to pre-empt the side effects dan feared most. The next morning, in Tempelhof park, dan took their first pills. A lover named Terry introduced them to ACT UP. dan went down the rabbit hole and never came back.

Since then, dan has co-founded the reformed ACT UP London, organised die-ins in Trafalgar Square, helped secure PrEP access through spectacular direct action, written two books on queer radical history, co-founded Bender Defenders for queer self-defence, and is about to open London's first community-run LGBTQ+ space at the Joiners Arms. According to Nigel Farage, they're scum. dan takes that as a compliment.

This is the final episode of series two, and it's a fitting end: grief alchemised into action, silence challenged at every turn, and friendship held up as political resistance.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:43 - Section 28 meant death. Growing up under Thatcher, HIV meant death, isolation, internalised stigma, your own fault. Mark Fowler on EastEnders was the only reference. There were no queer friends, no ropes to hang on to.

00:04:22 - Missing stories. What was missing from those messages was the brilliance of the community. People weren't told the true human stories. Section 28 silenced homosexuality in schools, libraries, public institutions. dan grew up in a religious, conservative environment where being gay was an abomination. Silence layered on silence.

00:06:27 - Seroconversion. dan had what seemed like flu but wasn't. A doctor in Brighton said those three letters. It struck deep. dan didn't know what it meant scientifically or socially—just death. They got drunk, went to a friend's house, cried, and she helped them to the toilet.

00:08:23 - Telling friends one by one. It was emotionally exhausting. So dan decided to do it all at once: a show called Shafted, based on Stars in Their Eyes, on the 25th anniversary of ACT UP. At the end, they were fired from a 12-foot cock-shaped human cannon across the audience, announcing: "Tonight everyone, I'm living with HIV."

00:10:47 - Five years without treatment. dan refused medication despite it being available. Living with HIV is more than pills into bodies. Fear, internalised stigma, the conditioning that you were doomed—Section 28's pathology was hyper-individualism. You had to parent yourself because you were told you were wrong.

00:12:08 - Shingles in Glasgow. dan's nurse called it "the red roses from hell." Their immune system was in a bad way. Stress correlated with sickness. White things on the tongue, red rashes—signs the body was failing. Still, dan was rigid with fear.

00:13:44 - Berlin and the truth. A doctor in Berlin, smoking fags in a tight white shirt, gave dan the statistics. They went home, looked up what it meant, and realised they had AIDS. They collapsed in the shower the next day.

00:15:09 - Juliana's party. dan was terrified of the side effects—nightmares, white feet. Juliana threw a party where everyone screamed in each other's faces and painted their feet white. You face fear by facing it.

00:17:03 - First pills in Tempelhof. The next morning, in dan's favourite park, they swallowed the pills. Game changer. Choice made. The physiological symptoms cleared rapidly.

00:17:51 - Terry's challenge. A lover named Terry, an ACT UP Paris activist, challenged dan's shame. "It's not your shame. It's society's." They went to bed. The next morning, Terry told dan about ACT UP. dan went down the rabbit hole.

00:19:13 - The second silence. Around 2014, HIV was in what activists called "the second silence": rising transmissions among certain populations without access, cuts to education and support due to austerity, and a general belief that HIV was a thing of the 80s and 90s.

00:20:28 - Peter Staley and reformation. dan contacted Peter Staley, protagonist of How to Survive a Plague, organised a screening in London, and met Andrea Morden, a lifelong ACT UP activist whose partner John had died of AIDS. That meeting led to the reformation of ACT UP London.

00:21:28 - What ACT UP is. AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power. A diverse, non-partisan group united in anger, committed to direct action to end the HIV pandemic. It started in New York in 1987 with Larry Kramer's speech asking the room to stand up: half of you will die. What are we going to do about it?

00:23:14 - The ashes action. In 1992, people took the ashes of their murdered loved ones in a procession to the White House and threw them over the gates. Grief alchemised into rage. For dan, the alchemy of grief is one of the most potent forces in the activist toolkit.

00:24:03 - The condom on Jesse Helms' house. Peter Staley and others put a house-shaped condom on the notoriously homophobic senator's home while he was out. In Paris, they covered the obelisk. In London, they tried Nelson's Column but didn't get a photo.

00:25:08 - What a die-in is. You lie on the ground with tombstones, red ribbons, red roses. A vigil and a protest. Anyone killed by government inaction—their death is a protest. Die-ins have happened outside pharmaceutical companies, financial institutions, and in Trafalgar Square as homage to the generation before.

00:27:32 - Rebuilding community. dan has a deep need for reconnection because of Section 28 and because of their Jewish ancestry—grandchildren of Holocaust survivors. Complete obliteration creates a need for rebuilding.

00:28:19 - Intergenerational dialogue. At an early ACT UP London meeting, an older activist told younger ones: "I don't know what you've got to deal with. We lost all our friends." dan stopped him. This isn't the oppression Olympics. Listen to each other's realities.

00:29:49 - The importance of space. Queer spaces like the Joiners Arms are where ACT UP meetings happen. Space is fundamental to power. In the daytime, HIV testing and community meetings. In the evening, cabaret and cruising. An ecosystem of needs.

00:32:40 - Connecting people. dan didn't know what activism was, just had a lot of rage with no productive outlet. Through meeting incredible people, they realised their purpose was connection—intergenerational, cross-cultural, weaving the tapestry that's been denied.

00:33:08 - Section 28's wound. A quote from Samuel Delany: "I was never taught how to love or what it might mean for someone like me to feel desire. And by the time I came of age, there was no one left to teach me." dan had to stop every ten minutes watching Heartstopper to cry. The discrepancy from Section 28 is a parallel universe.

00:35:18 - Holocaust and HIV. dan's two busiest times of year are World AIDS Day and Holocaust Memorial Day. Their grandparents were survivors. The silence equals death mentality comes from that heritage. The persecuted can become oppressors if they don't work on their trauma.

00:37:15 - Whose story gets told. Gay men's stories dominate HIV narratives. But what about women, people of colour, drug users? The hierarchy of acceptable stories must be constantly challenged. Until there's healthcare for all, we have to challenge our own conditioning.

00:50:22 - Inside-outside strategy. ACT UP taught dan about working with doctors, nurses, scientists on the inside while doing direct action on the outside. Without that combination, we wouldn't have antiretrovirals or PrEP access. Protest is fundamental to humanity. The chilling effect of recent legislation tries to make it a dirty word.

00:52:27 - Three books. United Queerdom (interviews with founders of Pride), Queer Footprints (a radical queer tour guide to London), and the forthcoming ACT UP, Rise Up (working title), about what made activists get out of bed in the morning—not strategy, but soul.

00:54:57 - The empty room argument. Those who think freedom was won with gay marriage need to zoom out. Homophobic hate crime is real. Police persecution continues. Not everyone can have public displays of queer affection. Four million people are expected to die by 2030 because of foreign aid cuts. Who decides whose lives are worthy?

00:56:53 - Remembering Ray Navarro. An actor-activist from ACT UP New York who dressed as Jesus outside Saint Patrick's Cathedral during the church occupation. He died of AIDS, young. The look on his face in the footage: mischief, joy, defiance. He probably knew he was dying.

00:58:50 - The postcard. "Friendship is political. Our chosen family, our friends we can be intimate with, will get us through all the crises and barriers and bullshit. My friends mean everything to me—in a kind of dry way, but in a beautiful, joyful, mischief-making way as well."

Guest Bio

dan glass is an activist, author, and according to Nigel Farage, scum. Born in 1983, they grew up under Section 28 and were diagnosed with HIV in their early twenties, initially refusing treatment until their CD4 count crashed to AIDS-defining levels. They co-founded the reformed ACT UP London, helped secure PrEP access through direct action, and have written two books on queer radical history: United Queerdom and Queer Footprints. They are about to open the Joiners Arms, London's first community-run LGBTQ+ space.

Resources

ACT UP London - https://actuplondon.wordpress.com/
Friends of the Joiners Arms: https://www.friendsjoinersarms.com/
How to Survive a Plague (film) - Documentary on ACT UP New York
120 BPM (film) - Trailer, see ACT UP Paris in action.
United Queerdom (Book): Buy here
Queer Footprints (Book): Buy here
Bender Defenders: https://www.benderdefenders.com

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Nikolaj Tange Lange: Porn, Punk, Perspective

Fri, 03 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

In 2007, Nikolaj Tange Lange wrote a punk song with the chorus "Gay is the new punk because we don't give a fuck about dying while we're young." A few months later, he tested positive for HIV. He was 27, newly arrived in Berlin, and had just discovered a city where condoms were already the exception in dark rooms and sex clubs. The song, it turned out, was prophecy.

Nikolaj is a Danish writer and musician who has spent nearly two decades navigating the gap between what the world thinks HIV means and what it actually means to live with it. He's published five novels, performed in porn under his real name, and written extensively about transgressive sex, chemsex, and queer culture. His novel Romeo and Seahorse is available in English from Cipher Press.

The night of infection was at a party during the Berlin Film Festival. A guy with a mohawk, a few beers left on the coffee table, straight to the bedroom. Nikolaj told him to stop, but was slow about it. He was drunk, high, in it. Two weeks later, he was in hospital with pneumonia so severe he could barely move. The Western blot confirmed the infection was recent. Mohawk guy was the one.

What's striking about Nikolaj's story is his refusal of blame. He continued to see Mohawk guy afterwards because he was hot, because he was funny, because “once you stop being afraid of HIV, a new world opens”. He doesn't know whether he tested positive because he stopped being afraid, or whether he stopped being afraid because he tested positive. Does it even matter?

The conversation ranges across pre-PrEP Berlin, the transgressive thrill of bareback sex, the codes of "safer sex needs discussion" on Gay Romeo, and the way stigma gets reproduced even in attempts to break it. Nikolaj is wary of the Drag Race moment where someone comes out as positive and the strings swell and everyone hugs and says how important it is to keep having this conversation. A taboo, he argues, is not something we don't talk about. It's something we keep reproducing as a taboo by talking about it as one.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:10 - Berlin, autumn 2007. A party during the film festival. A guy with a mohawk. Beers left on the coffee table, straight to the bedroom. Drunk, slightly high, post-high. He sticks his dick inside without a condom. Nikolaj tells him to stop, but hesitates.

00:04:08 - Pre-PrEP Berlin. The song "Gay is the New Punk" was inspired by Nikolaj's experience of arriving in Berlin and realising everyone was having sex without condoms. In dark rooms and leather bars, condoms were already the exception. You could ask for one, but it was a choice.

00:05:19 - Disbelief before arrival. Before moving to Berlin, Nikolaj heard friends' stories about Connection, the big gay club, and didn't believe them. How could people be choosing this? Then he met friends living with HIV who seemed perfectly healthy. The narrative he'd internalised didn't match what he saw.

00:06:31 - danish awareness campaigns. Growing up in Denmark, HIV awareness ads played between afternoon TV programmes. The message was absolute: use a condom or die. Not using one wasn't an option. It wasn't even a thought.

00:08:00 - Transgression as intimacy. Nikolaj didn't initially experience bareback sex as more physically intimate. The difference came later, when it became part of a scene where irresponsibility and transgression were the point. For queer people whose existence is already transgressive, doing something transgressive is exciting.

00:09:11 - Fear and freedom. For years, sex had been associated with fear and responsibility. Once Nikolaj stopped being afraid, he tested positive. He doesn't know which came first.

00:09:43 - Two weeks later. The coughing starts. Pain in the back and chest, each feeding the other. By evening, he can barely move. His flatmate takes him to the emergency room.

00:11:28 - The test. They ask about his HIV status at the hospital. He doesn't know. They test. The next morning, it's positive. A Western blot confirms the infection was recent. Mohawk guy was the one.

00:12:10 - Prognosis at 27. The doctors told him he'd probably make it to 60, which at 27 felt like "whatever." He thought he'd die a little sooner, but old enough that it wouldn't make a significant difference.

00:13:05 - Quitting smoking. The pneumonia was partly caused by smoking 50 cigarettes a day. Nikolaj quit and hasn't missed one since. His doctor told him smoking a pack a day is probably worse for your health than being HIV positive.

00:13:48 - The ghost patient. The hospital had a special ward for HIV patients that no longer exists. Nikolaj felt grateful for the connection to history—this was where terminal patients had come in the worst years. A young man there looked very ill. Nikolaj felt the weight of now carrying something that was part of queer history.

00:17:50 - Mohawk guy again. Nikolaj kept seeing him afterwards. Because he was hot. Because he was funny. Because once you don't need to be sensible about sex, a new world opens. He wouldn't tell people he knew who infected him because he could predict their outrage, and he hates when people get more emotionally outraged about something than he is.

00:20:57 - No blame. It just happened. If it hadn't been Mohawk guy, it would have been someone else. It wasn't something he did; it was something that happened because Nikolaj had stopped being afraid.

00:21:57 - "Safer sex needs discussion." On Gay Romeo, this was code for HIV positive and open to bareback. When Nikolaj updated his status, the people contacting him changed. Group sessions would be organised with filters set to only include people with that setting. It created a bubble where HIV wasn't stigmatised.

00:24:14 - Safe spaces that weren't safe. Those spaces created radical intimacy around shared status, but they could also be transgression-seeking in ways that weren't healthy. The stigma returned when dating someone outside the scene.

00:25:01 - Coming out repeatedly. You don't share your status once. You share it every time you meet someone new, start a new job, go to a new clinic. The assumption is always that you're negative. It's exhausting.

00:25:42 - Managing disclosure. With someone outside the scene—younger, a tourist, trans or non-binary, not regularly part of gay spaces—you can't assume they have the same knowledge. Even if you know you're undetectable and there's no risk, is it enough that you know? What if they would be uncomfortable?

00:30:22 - Fear is embodied. Around 2013, a friend's condom broke during sex. Nikolaj told him he was positive and undetectable—the safest possible thing. The friend knew this intellectually. His body was still in panic. Knowledge doesn't just take us out of fear. We need to live through it.

00:34:47 - Trust and lying. You can't be sure someone telling you they're undetectable is telling the truth. People lie about all sorts of things to get someone into bed. It's an unfair demand to require trust.

00:35:13 - Remembering Guillaume Dustan. The French writer, openly HIV positive, who died of an overdose in 2005 at 39. His book Nicolas Pages, recently translated by Semiotext(e), documents chem sex before it was a phenomenon, radical oversharing, brilliant analysis of queer culture. Reading it felt like connection across time.

00:37:47 - The gap. Nearly two decades navigating the difference between what the world thinks HIV means and what it actually means to live with it. When Drag Race does a coming-out-as-positive episode with pink lighting and strings and hugging and "this is so important," Nikolaj cringes. A taboo is reproduced as a taboo by talking about it as one.

00:39:08 - Mentioning it casually. If you want something to be seen as not a big deal, you have to find a way to talk about it as not a big deal.

00:40:43 - The postcard. "When I look out at the queer community, I see a lot of pain and trauma, and I also see a lot of joy and pleasure. I think those two are connected. I hope we can move forward allowing space for the pain while pushing together for more joy and more pleasure. The Queer Manifesto says every time we fuck, we win. I still believe that. There's a great resistance to be found in joy."

Guest Bio

Nikolaj Tange Lange is a Danish writer and musician living in Berlin. Diagnosed with HIV in 2007, he has published five novels, including Romeo and Seahorse, available in English from Cipher Press. He has performed in porn under his real name and writes about transgressive sex, chem sex, and queer culture. His Substack is Nikolajism.

Resources

Cipher Press - cipherpress.co.uk - Publisher of Romeo and Seahorse
Nikolajism - Nikolaj's Substack
Deutsche Aidshilfe - aidshilfe.de - German AIDS service organisation
Romeo & Seahorse (Novel): Cipher Press
Chemsex Support (UK): Dean Street
Danish HIV Awareness: AIDS-Fondet Denmark

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

“Jan”: Borders, Belonging, Becoming

Fri, 27 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

Jan describes himself as a global citizen. He is Turkish, Kurdish, gay, and HIV positive, and he's had to come out about each of those identities separately. Growing up in Ankara, he learned early to hide parts of himself. Kurdish was spoken at home but never taught to the children. It was too dangerous, too divisive. By fourteen, Jan had figured out that status and achievement could compensate for ethnic complexity. By the time he realised he was gay, he understood that no amount of status would protect him. His ticket out was a scholarship abroad.

The plan worked. Jan got his master's degree in the United States, had a job lined up, a future mapped. Then Covid happened. He lost his visa, his right to work, and found himself back in his parents' flat in Ankara, confined with them for 34 days straight during lockdown. A casual homophobic remark made him snap. He came out as gay in the middle of a pandemic, in a 70-square-metre flat, with nowhere to go.

He had arrived in Turkey with two weeks of PrEP left. There was no way to get more. When lockdowns lifted briefly, he met someone, asked if they were on PrEP, was told yes, and chose to have unprotected sex. Two weeks later, burning with fever, convinced it was Covid, he tested negative twice before realising it was HIV. The healthcare system was overwhelmed. Hospitals wouldn't admit non-Covid patients. Jan had to fake having Covid just to get through the doors. A doctor saw him in her personal time, sleepless after a night in intensive care. He borrowed money from friends, persuaded a pharmacy to release medication before state reimbursement came through, and took his first pill in a park, crying with relief.

Jan's voice has been altered for this episode to protect his identity. He is not yet out to his parents about his HIV status. He is still learning what it means to him.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:14 - Three identities to hide. Jan grew up in Turkey, a country of hidden diversity. Kurdish was spoken at home but not taught to the children. Being gay added another layer. Being HIV positive came later.

00:02:50 - Forced assimilation. The Turkish nation-state was built on a new meta-identity. Armenians, Greeks, Arabs, Circassians, Kurds—all were expected to sacrifice their past to be accepted. You learned to be overly apologetic, to over-tolerate hate remarks.

00:06:28 - Growing up in Ankara. A boringly stable place, very safe, but suffocating for a young gay person of mixed ethnicity. Jan went from school to home, avoiding the other kids. It felt too exposing.

00:08:29 - Status as armour. Up to fourteen, Jan focused on hiding his Kurdish identity through achievement. Power and status could compensate for ethnic complexity. Then puberty arrived, and he realised sexuality couldn't be hidden the same way.

00:09:25 - The scholarship. Jan worked hard for a scholarship to go abroad. He felt doomed if he stayed in Turkey as a gay man. Freedom required leaving.

00:10:18 - Covid takes everything. Jan had his master's degree, a job lined up, plans. Then the pandemic hit. He lost his visa and had to return to Turkey, back to the same environment he'd fought to escape.

00:10:56 - 34 days in 70 square metres. Confined with his parents during lockdown, a casual homophobic remark made Jan explode. He came out as gay. The world was doomed, people were dying, and the people who were supposed to love him were saying something offensive about who he was.

00:12:15 - Two weeks of PrEP left. Jan had been on PrEP in the US. In Turkey, it was nearly impossible to access—expensive, available only in select pharmacies in Istanbul, unknown to most doctors.

00:14:55 - Risk perception shifts. When you're deprived of touch, when nobody has held you with care, your risk perception changes. You start questioning less. The conversation about PrEP became performative: do you miss intimacy? Do you want this moment where two bodies connect?

00:18:39 - Convinced it was Covid. Two weeks after unprotected sex, Jan was burning with fever, convinced he was bringing Covid home to his parents. He asked them to leave. The tests came back negative. Twice.

00:20:28 - The phone call. A private clinic ran sexual health tests. Hepatitis C was negative. The HIV result was sent to public health authorities. Jan knew.

00:21:21 - Alone at home. The first time HIV hits your body, it feels horrible. Jan sat down and cried, then got up and asked himself: what have I actually lost? If he could get medication, nothing.

00:25:26 - On the state roster. In Turkey, once public health confirms your status, you're in the system for life. It affects everything, including mandatory military service. HIV-positive men are exempt.

00:25:52 - Faking Covid to get through the door. Hospitals wouldn't admit non-Covid patients. Jan pretended to have Covid to get past security. The clinics were ghost towns. The doctor who finally saw him was sleepless, zombie-like, but attentive for two minutes. It was enough.

00:29:06 - Ten pharmacies. Jan borrowed $500 from friends, went to pharmacy after pharmacy trying to persuade them to release medication before state reimbursement. A pharmacist—Jan suspects he was gay—finally agreed.

00:29:37 - The first pill. In a park, removing his mask, Jan took the pill and couldn't stop crying. A cry of relief. He was grateful for every activist who had brought treatment to this point.

00:30:50 - The clock ticking. At 25, Jan would lose his parents' health insurance. Without a job, he couldn't afford $430 a month for medication. His horizon shrank to earning $400 to survive.

00:33:09 - A new identity. Unlike being Kurdish or gay, being HIV positive was something Jan acquired, not something he was born with. He's still forming an opinion of it in real time. That's why he hasn't told his parents.

00:33:57 - Gratefulness. Every time Jan takes his pills, they're distilled with achievement, struggle, hope, resilience. HIV reminded him of everything he's capable of. It gave him life immunity.

00:38:42 - Sharing is healing. Jan shared his status with dan after watching a rough cut of season one. The sharing motivated more sharing. Being positive is a positive story.

00:40:16 - The state as salvation. Growing up Kurdish and gay, Jan had a complex relationship with the Turkish state. The first positive relationship he formed with it was through HIV care—non-judgemental, paid for, stable. He's now on a clinical trial for once-weekly pills.

00:44:09 - Nothing is guaranteed. What's given can be taken away. Gay people shouldn't take progress for granted. We live in a post-truth age.

00:45:59 - Commemorating the unknown. Jan doesn't know anyone who died of HIV. But he feels the legacy viscerally. His pills exist because of their deaths. He commemorates those who lost access during Covid, those in conflict zones, those dying still because of poverty and international disgrace.

00:48:05 - The postcard. "Peace. Full stop."

00:48:37 - Three identities. Kurdish. Turkish. Gay. HIV positive.

Guest Bio

Jan is a 27-year-old Turkish Kurdish gay man living with HIV. Diagnosed during the Covid pandemic while confined with his parents in Ankara, he navigated a healthcare system overwhelmed by the virus to access medication. His voice has been altered to protect his identity. He is not yet out to his parents about his HIV status. He now lives in London and is participating in a clinical trial for once-weekly HIV treatment.

Resources

Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity
NAM aidsmap - aidsmap.com - Information on HIV and AIDS
Positively UK - positivelyuk.org - Peer-led support for people living with HIV
UNAIDS - unaids.org - Global HIV statistics and advocacy
Kurdish Identity and Support: Assemblies for Democracy
HIV & Human Rights (International): UNAIDS
Refugee Support UK: Refugee Council
Turkey LGBT+ Rights: KAOS GL

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Eli Fitzgerald: Identity, Isolation, Integration

Fri, 20 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

Eli Fitzgerald is 26 years old and has never known life without HIV. There is no before and after, he says. There just is. He was taking seven pills a day as a child, alarms set for morning and night, unable to leave for school until he'd taken his meds. When the regime dropped to three pills, it felt life-changing. Those pills became his one certainty, the one thing he had control over.

Eli came out as a trans man at around the same time he was navigating adolescence with a diagnosis he couldn't tell anyone about. The waiting list for gender-affirming care was six to seven years. There were no role models, no one to look up to who had been through both. The isolation was profound. In the school playground, friends made jokes about AIDS without knowing what they were saying. Eli kept his secret completely hidden.

At some point, the lack of control over everything else led Eli to try to control his HIV in the only way available: stopping his medication, missing appointments. It's explained to him now as similar to how eating disorders work, that same impulse toward self-determination through self-harm. He got through it, found his people through CHIVA and the HIV sector, and eventually turned the isolation into advocacy.

Today, Eli works as a peer support integration manager and advocates nationally and internationally for trans people living with HIV. He's clear about what's needed: full integration of gender-affirming care within HIV services. The research shows that trans people with access to hormones and surgery are more likely to stay on medication, more likely to remain undetectable. If we're not allowed to be ourselves, he asks, what makes people think we're going to look after ourselves?

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:05 - No before and after. Eli has always had HIV. There's no differentiation between one life and another. He just is HIV positive.

00:02:41 - Childhood resilience. When you're very young and know you have HIV, there's an innocence to it. It's just a diagnosis. Then you get older, hear jokes in the playground about AIDS, and realise it's much bigger than you understood.

00:04:05 - The secret. Eli never told any school. It was just a secret you kept, completely hidden. But within healthcare, his team became family, always answering questions, making appointments fun even when he was grumpy.

00:05:27 - Logical family. HIV clinics work hard to make you feel loved, not in spite of your HIV but because of it. Society tells people with HIV they're isolated, unlovable. The clinic becomes a foundation of trust.

00:06:16 - Coming out as trans. Eli came out at fifteen or sixteen. The waiting list for gender-affirming care was six to seven years. There were no role models, no one who'd been through both HIV and transition.

00:07:26 - Why role models matter. They give you hope that there's a future, that you'll be okay. Without them, you're stuck in an isolation cycle, thinking you're the only one. It erodes self-confidence.

00:09:15 - The pill regime. As a child, Eli took seven pills a day, morning and night. You couldn't leave for school without taking your meds. When it dropped to three pills at night, it was transformative. Those pills became his certainty, his one constant.

00:10:32 - The news about life expectancy. Eli was in Liverpool when the news broke that people with HIV can expect a normal lifespan. It was crazy, he says. Suddenly: we're going to be fine.

00:11:11 - Normalising mortality. Before that news, Eli had just accepted life might be shorter. You still had things to do. Go to school, watch TV, eat. Nothing really changes in that sense.

00:12:00 - Struggling with school. Between sixteen and eighteen, Eli couldn't stick with education while navigating being trans, going to college, working out what came next. His heart was always in advocacy, in wanting more for his friends and peers.

00:13:26 - Two stigmatised identities. Being trans and HIV positive felt like sitting on a 3D wobbly fence, or being a ping pong ball. But the only thing you have control over is your HIV.

00:14:52 - Stopping medication. When everything felt out of control, Eli turned to the one thing he could control: his HIV. He stopped taking his meds, missed appointments. It wasn't good, but it was his.

00:15:31 - Why people stop. There are many reasons. You can't face HIV, life is derailing, you don't want to be a person who takes meds. It works like an eating disorder, that element of control through self-harm.

00:16:45 - Pills at parties. As a teenager, Eli would go to house parties with pills wrapped in tinfoil, looking like he was hoarding drugs. He'd sneak off to the toilet so no one would see.

00:17:49 - Unanswered questions. Trans people living with HIV ask: will I be okay? Will I be allowed surgery? Can I take hormones? Will I be allowed to be myself? Will HIV stop me reaching my goals?

00:19:18 - CliniQ. The trans sexual health and wellbeing service makes you feel seen. They understand, they listen, they have your back without fear of discrimination. It's a space to breathe.

00:20:56 - Unappealing to funders. Eli was told that trans people are unappealing to funders. He's still furious. The UK struggles to report on trans people living with HIV because NHS systems aren't built for it.

00:21:53 - NHS systems failing. To change gender with a GP, Eli needed a new NHS number. But some hospitals don't update records. He's been called Miss Eli Fitzgerald in A&E, placed on women's wards. The data gets skewed because there's no set way to do it.

00:24:20 - Finding his people. The HIV sector, as much as it sometimes frustrates him, is where Eli found people who love him no matter what. They taught him how to empower himself, share his story, stand up for what he believes. It's like a hug.

00:26:05 - CHIVA. The charity supports children, young people, and young adults living with HIV in the UK and Ireland. They run an annual camp for around 100 young people aged ten to seventeen, bringing them together. It's gorgeous.

00:27:23 - Making change. Sometimes Eli feels he's making a difference, sometimes not. He struggles with confidence, finds public speaking terrifying. But the biggest change is helping individuals understand HIV doesn't define them.

00:28:50 - Trans inclusion in HIV services. It's not perfect. It's pot luck. Most HIV clinicians want to know more, want to help, but there's no guidance, no system in place.

00:29:47 - The priority. To end HIV transmissions by 2030, we need full integration of gender-affirming care in HIV services. Trans people with access to hormones and surgery are more likely to stay on medication, more likely to remain undetectable.

00:31:35 - To young trans people with HIV. Keep going. Reach out. Don't let HIV define your transition. You can still access hormones, even if you have to wait. And be angry. Let it out in a meaningful way. There is a future.

00:32:53 - Remembering Lou Sullivan. Eli chooses Lou Sullivan, a trans man in America who was told he couldn't be a gay trans man. Doctors wouldn't let him transition. His quote: "They told me I couldn't be a gay man, but now it looks as though I'm going to die one." His diaries, written until his death, got Eli through the isolation.

00:34:59 - The postcard. "Just be nice to people. You don't know what people are going through. Accept them for who they are. Don't judge."

Guest Bio

Eli Fitzgerald is a peer support integration manager and advocate for trans people living with HIV. Now 26, he has lived with HIV his entire life and came out as a trans man in his mid-teens. He works nationally and internationally to improve services for trans people with HIV, pushing for the integration of gender-affirming care within HIV treatment. He credits organisations like CHIVA with helping him find community and purpose.

Resources

CHIVA - chiva.org.uk - Supporting children and young people living with HIV in the UK and Ireland
CliniQ - cliniq.org.uk - Trans sexual health and wellbeing service
Positively UK - positivelyuk.org - Peer-led support for people living with HIV
Lou Sullivan's Diaries https://www.gaystheword.co.uk/product-page/youngman-selected-diaries-of-lou-sullivan
Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity
Trans Plus HIV Care (UK): 56 Dean Street Services
Sophie Forum: https://sophiaforum.net

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Silvia Petretti: Peers, Power, Persistence

Fri, 13 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

Silvia Petretti came to London from Rome in 1986, aged twenty, fleeing grief after her mother's sudden death. The plan was a two-week English course. She never went back. London in the late 80s was vibrant with clubs, music, warehouse parties, the summer of love. She settled in Brixton, fell in love with Afro-Caribbean culture, studied African languages and arts, and began promoting drumming and dance.

In 1997, while in Rome caring for her father who had Alzheimer's, Silvia contracted cerebral malaria on a trip to Senegal. In hospital, recovering slowly, a nurse offered her an HIV test at the bedside, no counselling, no privacy. The result was positive. She was thirty years old, alone, and told she might have one or two years to live. Her first treatment regime was eighteen pills a day, some with food, some without, alarms set through the night. The drugs were toxic. Skin flaked. Bodies deformed. You didn't know, she says, if AIDS was going to kill you or the medication.

For months, Silvia told almost no one. She felt unlovable, untouchable, toxic. While her friends were getting married and planning futures, she was planning her funeral. Then a doctor at St George's Hospital suggested she visit a support group called Positively Women. Walking into that room, seeing women of all backgrounds living well with HIV, changed everything. Within six months, she was volunteering. By 2001, she was working there. Today, she is Chief Executive of Positively UK, the organisation that Positively Women became, leading peer support services embedded in NHS clinics across London and beyond.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:19 - Rome to London. Silvia's mother died when she was twenty. Grief brought her to London for what was meant to be a two-week English course. She stayed.

00:03:22 - 1980s London. The city was vibrant with clubs, warehouse parties, the acid house scene. For a young woman from traditional Rome, it had everything to offer.

00:04:09 - Brixton and African culture. Living in Brixton, Silvia fell in love with Afro-Caribbean culture, blues parties, squats, artists. She studied African languages and Yoruba culture.

00:05:21 - Malaria and diagnosis. In 1997, Silvia contracted cerebral malaria in Senegal. In hospital in Rome, not recovering, a nurse offered an HIV test at the bedside with no counselling. The result was positive.

00:07:13 - Terror and shame. There was no information, no support. Silvia told no one and cried for weeks. The first six months are a blur of trauma and shock.

00:08:29 - Thirty years old. Silvia was working multiple jobs, trying to save for a master's degree. She had no financial stability. Everything around her said this was her fault, that she was shameful, unlovable, untouchable.

00:10:34 - Invisible as a woman. In 1997, HIV was still framed as a gay disease. There was nothing for women, no condoms given, no conversation about what came next.

00:11:02 - Eighteen pills a day. Silvia's first regime included drugs like Invirase, Ritonavir, and DDI. Some needed food, some didn't. Alarms through the night. Impossible adherence. You didn't know if AIDS or the medication would kill you.

00:12:57 - Body dystrophy. The drugs caused fat redistribution, deformed bodies, thin arms, enlarged stomachs. Women stopped being asked if they were pregnant. For women, whose appearance is so often tied to value, it was devastating.

00:14:39 - Fragile and toxic. Silvia felt her body was hosting the enemy. Her future was gone. While friends planned weddings and children, she planned her funeral.

00:16:51 - Back to London. After her father died, Silvia returned to London with £100 and a virus. She hadn't told her brother. She was grieving, lonely, and very low.

00:17:16 - St George's Hospital. A doctor named Davidson saw Silvia regularly. For 45 minutes each visit, Silvia just cried. Eventually, the doctor suggested antidepressants and a support group called Positively Women.

00:18:19 - The first support group. Walking in, Silvia couldn't believe it. Women from Africa, women with children, a crèche. Everyone looked well and lively. She kept asking: are they all living with HIV?

00:19:17 - Learning to live. Slowly, attending regularly, Silvia heard women discussing dating with HIV, something she couldn't imagine. She learned her eighteen pills could become two. A peer told her to demand better treatment from her doctor.

00:20:40 - Women's invisibility. Women are 52% of people with HIV globally, over eighteen million, yet most research is done on men. Treatments had worse side effects for women because they weren't studied on women's bodies.

00:22:20 - Speaking up as a woman. Socialised to be quiet, to not speak about her needs, Silvia found it hard to contribute in meetings dominated by articulate British-born gay men. She advocates for critical mass: at least three women in any room, so voices can be heard.

00:24:38 - Sheila and Janey. Positively Women was founded in 1987 by Sheila Gilchrist and Janey Davis, women who acquired HIV through injecting drug use. They started in a front room, facing scepticism from clinics. By 1992, Princess Diana was opening their offices. Both died of AIDS in the early 90s.

00:28:37 - From receiving to giving. Within six months of attending, Silvia became a volunteer. In 2001, she got a job as a peer support worker, including outreach in Holloway Prison.

00:31:30 - Choosing visibility. Around 2004-2005, Silvia realised her invisibility colluded with stigma. She began speaking to media, having photos taken, posing for a sculpture by artist Marc Quinn made of antiretrovirals, exhibited at the Wellcome Trust.

00:33:33 - Positively Women becomes Positively UK. When another organisation for people with HIV closed, the community asked Positively Women to expand. The peer-led model was extended to everyone.

00:35:08 - Peer support in clinics. Over the past five years, Positively UK has embedded peer supporters in nineteen London clinics and several across England. The NHS is starting to understand lived experience matters.

00:36:49 - Resistance from professionals. Some NHS staff see peers as "just patients" and resist sharing systems or including them in multidisciplinary teams. But peer supporters are trained professionally, understanding confidentiality, safeguarding, boundaries. It's about sharing power.

00:39:35 - Women today. Things have improved. More women are open about their status. U=U has helped. But clinical trials still underrepresent women. Voices aren't yet as strong as men's. There's work to do.

00:41:13 - What gets missed. Women's bodies change throughout life. Reproductive health, contraception, motherhood with HIV, menopause—all need gender-specific support. 85% of women with HIV in the UK are of African origin, bringing intersections of migration, racism, poverty, mental health, and gender-based violence.

00:44:56 - The younger Silvia. She's still within me, Silvia says. The broken part needs to be loved as it is. In a dream, Silvia told her dead mother: if I could choose again, I would always choose a life with HIV. Her mother nodded.

00:46:17 - Gratitude and grief. HIV has been Silvia's greatest teacher. Through it, she met an extraordinary community, became part of a revolutionary health movement. She grieves those lost without treatment and remains angry for those still dying globally.

00:48:04 - Remembering Sheila and Janey. Silvia asks us to remember the founders of Positively Women and all the women activists whose names we don't know.

00:48:52 - The postcard. "If we can love and accept ourselves in our entirety, including the difficult parts, we become much more ready to love and embrace others as they are."

Guest Bio

Silvia Petretti is Chief Executive of Positively UK, a national peer-led organisation supporting people living with HIV. Born in Rome, she has lived in London since 1986. Diagnosed with HIV in 1997, she joined Positively Women as a volunteer, became a staff member in 2001, and has led the organisation through its expansion into NHS clinics across London and England. She has over 25 years of leadership in the HIV sector.

Resources

Positively UK - positivelyuk.org - Peer-led support for people living with HIV
Sophia Forum - sophiaforum.net - Network for women living with HIV in the UK
Positively UK (CEO): https://positivelyuk.org
Fast Track Cities Leadership: Team Profile
Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Diego Agurto Beroiza: Archives, Activism, Alarm

Fri, 06 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

Diego Agurto Beroiza is Chilean, HIV positive, and living in London. When someone in his community dies from HIV-related causes, he says, we become incomplete. So he's building a museum. Not a building, but a living archive made of testimonies performed on stage. He calls it the Living Museum of Emotional Archives, built on a simple idea: when someone dies, their emotional archive shouldn't disappear with them.

This conversation, recorded while Diego was in Santiago, covers the shadow of Chile's dictatorship over the early HIV response, the experience of being a migrant accessing services in London, and the rising threat of the far right across Latin America and beyond. Diego is direct about what he sees: funding cuts to PrEP in Argentina, conservative victories in Chile, the same playbook spreading across borders. He doesn't think the UK is immune.

Diego was an activist before his diagnosis, but receiving his own positive result changed something. He had the knowledge, he thought, until suddenly he felt he knew nothing. Treatment came within a month, but what stayed with him was the memory of his new community, the history of those who came before him, who didn't have what he now has. That history, he believes, must be preserved and performed.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:38 - Chile's dictatorship and patient zero. The coup began in 1973. Chile's first HIV case was recorded in 1984. The dictatorship declared it wasn't a national problem, just one case, just gay people. The bodies from that era are still being searched for today.

00:03:29 - Diagnosis changes everything. Diego was an activist before testing positive. He thought he had the knowledge. When the diagnosis came, he felt he knew nothing. His identity shifted. He became part of a community with a different history.

00:05:41 - Arriving in London. Diego arrived in 2023 with connections through Terrence Higgins Trust. For others without those links, language barriers and fragmented information make access harder. There's also fear that speaking publicly about HIV status could affect immigration.

00:07:20 - Stigma built in the 80s. Chile's patient zero died during the dictatorship. The mass media, closely aligned with the regime, framed HIV as a "gay cancer." That construction of stigma persists.

00:09:02 - Diaspora as reinvention. Moving to London allowed Diego to speak publicly about his status in ways that felt impossible in Chile. The legal protections in the UK made a difference. He used his condition to speak politically, in universities and other spaces.

00:09:39 - Telling his family. Diego didn't want to tell his mother because she would cry, and he didn't have the energy to explain everything. This year, he finally had the conversation, setting boundaries first: he would explain what happened, that he's undetectable, that he won't die. Questions could come tomorrow.

00:11:08 - The far right wins Chile. The week before this recording, Chile elected a far-right president with close ties to Pinochet-era politics. Diego's community is in danger. They know what these politicians think about LGBTQ+ people, about women's rights, about those living with HIV.

00:12:36 - Guilt as a weapon. The far right uses guilt, Diego explains. Catholic ideas of sin, the notion that people living with HIV are responsible for their condition and should pay for their own treatment. In Argentina, funding for PrEP has been cut. The same ideas are spreading.

00:14:28 - A pandemic returning. If funding is cut and treatment becomes unaffordable, the pandemic will come again. HIV rates are already rising in parts of Europe and Latin America. Nobody wants to call it a pandemic, but Diego believes it could become one.

00:15:08 - Why should you pay? Diego answers the question directly: because we are a society. He pays taxes for schools and maternity care despite having no children. Healthcare is collective. One part of the community's problem is everyone's problem.

00:16:56 - Conservative strategies are old. The Bible, the family, the same playbook for a thousand years. Queer communities need new strategies, need to think faster. Maybe performance isn't enough right now. Maybe the street is needed.

00:18:06 - Why the UK should care. When Chile falls to the far right, it becomes an example for others. Trump's victory enabled others. Argentina, El Salvador, Chile, these are models being watched. The UK is not safe.

00:20:30 - Human rights are universal. When one group is endangered, it's a problem for humanity. The genocide being watched on Instagram isn't just Palestine's problem. It's everyone's. The same applies to HIV.

00:21:43 - Real action, not hashtags. Diego is concerned about the future. Sharing stories on Instagram and sending hugs isn't enough. Something really active is needed. Connections between groups, between activists, across borders.

00:22:12 - Theatre as testimony. The Living Museum of Emotional Archives collects testimonies and performs them. When audiences hear from survivors, from people who lost someone, from people recently diagnosed, from those who've been fighting for thirty years, stigma can be challenged. The "bad guy" stereotype dissolves.

00:24:38 - Being a topic. At an academic conference, all the LGBTQ+ content was siloed into its own table. Diego asks: why are we a topic? A trans researcher studying Palestinian literature was placed in the queer panel, not the literature panel. The structures need to change.

00:26:22 - Remembering Scarlett Parra. A prominent figure in Chile's queer community, Scarlett was caught between private and public healthcare systems when she was diagnosed. The bill for emergency care was £10,000, impossible when the minimum wage is £500 a month. Her death was a moment for the community.

00:28:25 - The postcard. "Human rights are in danger. We need to be together without countries, without borders. Fighting, reading, talking in all the spaces. The genocide is happening now. Tomorrow could be another country. Tomorrow could be our houses."

Guest Bio

Diego Agurto Beroiza is a Chilean actor, performer, director, and activist living in London. He works with Positive East, Terrence Higgins Trust, and the Lobby, using theatre and performance to amplify the voices of migrant communities, LGBTQ+ groups, and people living with HIV. He is the creator of the Living Museum of Emotional Archives, a performance-based project that preserves and shares testimonies from HIV communities.

Resources

Positive East - positiveeast.org.uk - HIV support and services in East London
Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity
NAZ - naz.org.uk - Sexual health for BAME communities
The Living Museum of Emotional Archives: https://www.instagram.com/e.archives.hiv/
HIV & Migration Support: UKLGIG / Rainbow Migration
Oscar Wilde Society (Literature Reference): https://oscarwildesociety.co.uk
Chilean LGBT+ Rights: Movilh Chile

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Garry Brough: Peers, Passion, Perseverance

Fri, 27 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

Garry Brough grew up in a Welsh mining village in the 1970s and 80s, where being different meant being singled out. He was teased and tormented daily, long before he knew he was gay. His father, the local football team manager, kept trying to take him to matches. It never took. At eleven, Garry dropped Welsh and took Italian, reasoning that a foreign language was his ticket out. He assumed the rest of the UK was as suffocating as the valleys. Perhaps another country would be better.

London, when he arrived, was transformative. Within two weeks, he was at Camden Palace in makeup and satins, watching a psychedelic goth diva, and nobody looked twice. He went out six or seven nights a week and drank at every one. By his final year of university, it was falling apart. A lecturer gently asked if drink might be a problem. He detoxed, got sober, then relapsed after his HIV diagnosis in 1991. He was 23. The prognosis was five years.

In 1995, the bruise that wouldn't fade turned out to be Kaposi's sarcoma. His CD4 count was 84. The Aids diagnosis arrived four years before he was supposed to die. He'd done everything right, and it hadn't worked. On his 30th birthday, a birthday he was never meant to see, Garry started combination therapy. Within days, he felt more alive than he had in years.

The decades since have been spent building peer support infrastructure across the UK, from the Bloomsbury Clinic to Positively UK to the NHS. Garry now works on Fast Track Cities, the initiative aiming for zero transmissions, zero deaths, and zero stigma by 2030. He recently got married. The 23-year-old who couldn't imagine being loved would never have believed it.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:15 - Growing up in the Welsh valleys. Garry describes an insular community with fixed expectations. Boys became miners. They married their childhood sweethearts from the next street. He didn't fit.

00:03:16 - Teased before he knew why. Long before Garry understood he was gay, his peers recognised difference. The daily torment started early.

00:06:20 - Finding others. At seventeen, Garry met people from neighbouring towns who were going down to Cardiff at weekends. There was suddenly a group with something in common, and it was liberating.

00:08:21 - Italian as an escape route. At eleven, Garry chose Italian over Welsh, reasoning that a foreign language would take him further from home than anywhere else in the UK.

00:09:45 - London, week two. At Camden Palace, in satins and makeup, nobody pointed or shouted or spat. The sense of belonging was immediate and lasted for years.

00:12:38 - Drinking as escape. From sixteen, alcohol released Garry from fear. In London, with clubs every night of the week, the drinking escalated. By his final year, he was passing out nightly.

00:15:09 - Detox and relapse. A lecturer suggested drink might be the problem. Garry detoxed medically, got sober for a year, then convinced himself he could drink normally again. Within three days, he was back to lunchtime drinking.

00:16:04 - Testing every year. From 1985, when the test became available, Garry went annually. Friends thought he was mad. He wanted to know.

00:17:26 - The positive result. In February 1991, eight months sober, he assumed everything would be fine. It wasn't. He traced it back to those final chaotic weeks of drinking before his first detox.

00:19:45 - Five years to live. The doctor laid it out plainly. Two to three years before symptoms, another couple after that. Garry was 23. He decided to finish his degree.

00:22:18 - Planning the end. Garry told friends and family he wouldn't allow himself to become bedridden and nurse-dependent. When it got bad, he would take his life. He wrote a living will.

00:23:22 - Miserable drinking. After graduating, Garry started drinking again, but this time it was solitary and joyless. After six months, he asked himself: do you want to die drunk and miserable, or have five years of life?

00:26:42 - Watching friends disappear. The early to mid 90s was the peak. Young men with walking sticks. People you saw deteriorate. The phrase "so-and-so's in hospital" became commonplace.

00:30:01 - The Aids diagnosis. In 1995, a bruise that wouldn't fade turned out to be Kaposi's sarcoma. Garry's CD4 count was 84. Combined with the candidiasis already present, it was an Aids-defining diagnosis. He had spent four years doing everything right. It felt like a cheat.

00:33:26 - The long-term survivor quiz. Reading American newsletters, Garry found a list of twelve qualities associated with longer survival. He ticked eight. He resolved to get all twelve.

00:36:48 - Seeing someone rise from a deathbed. A friend meant to be dying walked into a bar saying he was going dancing. He'd started the new combination therapy in hospital. Garry went to his doctor.

00:38:16 - Treatment on his 30th birthday. Garry insisted on making it to thirty on his own terms, with chemotherapy alone. On his birthday, he started the new drugs. Within days, he felt more alive than he had in years.

00:42:08 - Immune reconstitution syndrome. A month after starting treatment, Garry developed pneumocystis pneumonia. He was allergic to the drugs. The nurse asked if he'd like to see the chaplain. He ranted at the chaplain, recovered, and carried on.

00:43:20 - Rehabilitation through peer support. The YMCA's Positive Health Program helped Garry rebuild his lungs. He started volunteering, then teaching. Seeing people who'd been in his position get better was transformative.

00:47:28 - Designing a program for internalised stigma. HIV stigma, Garry explains, rarely arrives alone. It hooks onto existing marginalisation, whether sexuality, migration, gender, or drug use. His program helps people untangle what came first.

00:50:48 - The first question. Working in a clinic from 2004 to 2009, Garry met every newly diagnosed person. Behind closed doors, they would always ask the same thing: how long have I really got? They didn't believe the doctors.

00:51:48 - Fast Track Cities. The initiative brings together the mayor's office, NHS, voluntary sector, and community representatives, aiming for zero transmissions, zero deaths, and zero stigma by 2030.

00:53:45 - The work that remains. More people have disengaged from care than remain undiagnosed. Stigma, mental health, substance use, homelessness, immigration status, all intersect to push people away from treatment.

00:56:11 - Love after diagnosis. When Garry was diagnosed, he thought no one would ever want him. For a long time, he only dated other positive men. Eventually, he learned to feel lovable again. He recently got married.

00:58:44 - What the 23-year-old would think. The younger Garry had so little sense of self-worth that he'd laugh at the idea of marriage. He couldn't separate other people's judgements from who he was.

01:01:01 - Remembering Eddie. Garry recalls a man he dated briefly, who later developed pneumonia but insisted it wasn't HIV-related. Eddie died of Aids in hospital, still in denial. Garry thinks about what could have been different.

01:03:28 - The postcard. "For as tough as times can be, there is always hope. All you really have to do is get through today. Tomorrow will come on its own terms."

Guest Bio

Garry Brough was diagnosed with HIV in 1991 and received an Aids diagnosis in 1995. He started combination therapy on his 30th birthday in 1997. For the past 25 years, he has worked in peer support and HIV advocacy, including roles at the Bloomsbury Clinic, Terrence Higgins Trust, and Positively UK. He currently works on the Fast Track Cities initiative, which aims to end HIV transmissions, deaths, and stigma by 2030.

Resources

Positively UK - positivelyuk.org - Peer-led support for people living with HIV
Fast Track Cities London - fasttrackcities.london - The initiative to end HIV in London
Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity
London Friend - londonfriend.org.uk - LGBTQ+ mental health and wellbeing
Bloomsbury Network (Peer Support): https://www.bloomsburynetwork.co.uk/

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Angelina Namiba: Motherhood, Mentoring, Movement

Fri, 20 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0100

In 1993, Angelina Namiba was finishing her finals at Manchester Metropolitan University when she fell seriously ill. Her GP suggested an HIV test. She took the referral paper, put it under her bed, and didn't go. When he wrote again, underlining "strongly" in red, she went for the test but never collected the results. She already knew what HIV looked like. Her brother, studying in London, had been in and out of specialist wards with Kaposi's sarcoma, meningitis, and epileptic fits. He died at Mildmay Hospice. She was terrified.

Eventually, pre-test counselling gave her the courage to try again. A friend from secondary school in Kenya called and said: ring me when you get the result. Whatever it is, I'll be there. Angelina tested positive in her early twenties, believing she had perhaps six months to live.

She didn't die. She took a job the same week as her diagnosis to keep busy whilst waiting for the end. That decision, and the peer support she found through organisations run by gay men who already knew how to do this work, kept her going. In 1998, she had a daughter, born HIV-free thanks to treatment during pregnancy. She went on to co-found the 4M Network, training mentor mothers to support women through the pregnancy journey. And with four other African women living with HIV in the UK, she co-authored Our Stories Told by Us, a book reclaiming the narrative from statistics and tragedy.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:09 - Before diagnosis. Angelina was focussed on her university finals. As a foreign student from Kenya, she needed to justify the fees her mother had paid.

00:03:11 - The spirit of Harambee. In Kenya, communities come together to help those in need, whether for school fees, funerals, or weddings. This collective spirit shaped Angelina's approach to peer support.

00:04:41 - The test she didn't take. After her GP suggested an HIV test, Angelina put the referral under her bed and went to the library to look up hepatitis B instead. HIV felt too frightening to face.

00:06:32 - No information for women like her. Everything Angelina had seen about HIV featured white gay men. The image of Freddie Mercury on the tabloids after his death. Men getting ill and dying. Nothing aimed at African women.

00:07:55 - The letter underlined in red. When Angelina still hadn't gone for the test, her GP wrote again, underlining "strongly" in red ink. That scared her enough to go.

00:10:09 - What she already knew. Angelina's brother had been diagnosed before her. She watched him develop Kaposi's sarcoma, meningitis, and epileptic fits. He spent his final year between specialist wards and died at Mildmay Hospice. This was her understanding of HIV.

00:11:24 - A friend at the end of the line. Before going for her results, Angelina's school friend from Kenya said: call me whatever happens. Knowing someone was waiting made it possible to face the news.

00:12:40 - Two ways to take it. Diagnosed in her early twenties, Angelina decided she could either go negative or make the most of her remaining time. She chose the latter.

00:13:24 - Finally, another woman. A friend came to Angelina with news of her own diagnosis. Angelina's response: yes, finally, another woman in London living with HIV. Her friend took her to support groups.

00:14:47 - Learning from gay men. The main support available came from organisations led by gay men who already understood stigma, illness, and mutual aid. They welcomed the women and showed them how to do support work themselves.

00:16:43 - Stigma and silence. Many African women were being diagnosed but not accessing services. Internalised stigma, fear of judgement, and the taboo around talking about sex kept them hidden.

00:18:25 - "How did you get HIV?" Journalists kept asking this question, trying to place her in a box of guilt or innocence. Angelina eventually answered: I got HIV not because of what I did, but because of what I didn't do. I didn't use a condom. Like millions of other young people.

00:21:57 - Pregnancy and motherhood. In 1998, Angelina had a daughter, born HIV-free thanks to treatment during pregnancy. Guidelines then required caesarean section and no breastfeeding. She kept a week-by-week pregnancy diary for her daughter to read.

00:23:57 - Eighteen months of waiting. In those days, babies were tested repeatedly until 18 months old. Only then could mothers breathe a sigh of relief.

00:25:01 - Her daughter now. Angelina's daughter is a singer-songwriter. She can be found on Instagram at @realhamzaa.

00:26:33 - The 4M Network. Angelina co-founded this perinatal peer mentoring project. 4M stands for My Health, My Choice, My Child, My Life. It trains mentor mothers to support their peers through pregnancy and beyond.

00:27:37 - Why mentor mothers matter. A mentor mother has walked the journey before. She understands the anxieties, the domestic violence some women face when disclosing, the immigration issues, the poverty. She can hold your hand through it.

00:29:52 - Breastfeeding and choice. With undetectable viral load, women can now be supported to breastfeed safely if they choose. HIV should not remove that option.

00:31:59 - Disclosure from a position of power. When sharing your status, Angelina advises doing so not from fear but from trust. You are giving someone information because you believe they should have it. If they walk, that's about them, not you.

00:33:30 - Learning from the Global South. African countries have incredible interventions, skills, and expertise. The flow of knowledge shouldn't only go one way.

00:34:22 - Our Stories Told by Us. With four other African women living with HIV in the UK, Angelina co-authored a book celebrating the African contribution to the HIV response. Over forty contributors, each with a photograph, challenging stigma and reclaiming the narrative.

00:39:45 - Remembering her brother. Angelina asks us to remember Kennedy, known as Kay. A gentle soul who loved fashion, saved his money for quality, danced beautifully, and made her laugh.

00:40:53 - The postcard. "Women living with HIV are just like you and me. We are sisters, friends, lovers, parents. With access to treatment and support, we can lead healthy, fulfilling lives. We can start families if we wish. We are just like you."

00:42:12 - Thank you to the activists. Angelina pays tribute to the early gay activists who put their bodies on the line for treatment and research. Without them, many would not be here today. She gives a special shout-out to dan glass, who "puts the act into activism."

Guest Bio

Angelina Namiba is originally from Kenya and has been living with HIV since 1993. She is a co-founder of the 4M Network, which trains mentor mothers to support women through pregnancy. She worked for many years at Positively Women (now Positively UK) and co-authored Our Stories Told by Us: Celebrating the African Contribution to the UK HIV Response. She is a mother, mentor, and tireless advocate for women's voices in the HIV response.

Resources

Our Stories Told by Us - ourstoriestoldbyus.com - The book celebrating African contributions to the UK HIV response
4M Mentor Mothers Network: https://4mmm.org/
Salamander Trust (Trustee): https://salamandertrust.net
UK AIDS Memorial Quilt: https://aidsquiltuk.org
Positively UK: https://positivelyuk.org
HIV and Black African Communities in the UK (NAT): https://nat.org.uk/publications/hiv-and-black-african-communities-in-the-uk/
Angelina's daughter Hamzaa on Instagram: @realhamzaa

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Alexander Cheves: Sex, Sovereignty, Survival

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

Alexander Cheves grew up on a 500-acre farm in rural Georgia, raised by evangelical missionary parents who blocked gay websites and warned him that choosing this "lifestyle" meant choosing death. At sixteen, he decided to come out anyway, convinced he was trading a long life for a brief, honest one. He tested positive for HIV at twenty, in 2013, during his final year of college.

What followed wasn't the manageable adjustment the medical timeline might suggest. In the six months after diagnosis, Alexander fell into a depression so severe he nearly didn't survive it. He went through a period of manic sex without disclosure, behaviour he's since written about with unflinching honesty in his memoir My Love Is a Beast. He later learned from infectious disease specialists that this response is statistically common, though rarely discussed.

This conversation covers Alexander's decade as a sex worker, his move from Atlanta to New York to Berlin, his relationship with drugs and nightlife, and his views on HIV criminalisation and personal responsibility. He talks about friends who didn't make it, including one who died after "bug chasing" and never sought treatment. And he reflects on turning thirty, an age his father once predicted he wouldn't reach, and discovering that life only got better from there.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:25 - Growing up isolated. Alexander describes the 500-acre farm, the Christian parental blockers, and arriving at college in 2010 believing gay life still looked like 1985.

00:05:18 - Choosing death over the closet. At sixteen, Alexander made a conscious decision that a brief, honest life was preferable to survival in hiding. He wrote a 13-page poem debating it with himself.

00:09:37 - The closet is unendurable. Alexander reflects on why so many queer men choose perceived shorter lives over staying hidden. The daily anxiety of concealment, he argues, is a form of suffering that cannot be sustained.

00:12:20 - College and consequences. With no sex education from his parents, Alexander went wild. He was in and out of the student health clinic constantly. In hindsight, testing positive at twenty was no surprise.

00:14:43 - The drive to the clinic. When the clinic refused to give results over the phone, Alexander knew. The six months that followed were the hardest of his life to survive.

00:16:05 - 2013 realities. Pre-PrEP, pre-U=U. Doctors worried about medication adherence in young patients. Alexander was told disclosure was entirely his responsibility.

00:18:04 - No one would touch him. Overnight, his sex life ended. The only partners willing to engage were older men who understood HIV. These "gay daddies" saved his life.

00:19:52 - The manic period. Alexander describes anonymous, strategic sex without disclosure in the months before medication. He later learned this response is clinically documented, though he'd thought himself uniquely transgressive.

00:24:22 - Sex work and healing. Alexander spent nearly a decade as an escort, learning that many clients simply wanted someone to talk to. The loneliest were often older men who'd lost everyone in the plague years.

00:29:02 - Drugs, loneliness, and gay culture. Higher rates of substance abuse among gay men, Alexander suggests, stem from isolation, societal trauma, and a culture built in spaces of consumption.

00:30:17 - Harm reduction, not abstinence. Therapists at Gay Men's Health Crisis in New York focussed on moderation. Combined with daily meditation started after diagnosis, Alexander found a relationship with drugs that works for him.

00:36:09 - The friend who didn't make it. A fellow sex worker and friend, into bug chasing, caught HIV deliberately and never sought treatment. Alexander believes shame killed him as much as the virus.

00:41:01 - HIV criminalisation. American law still places responsibility entirely on the positive partner, even in consensual encounters. Alexander argues this is outdated, weaponised, and ignores individual agency.

00:45:48 - Bareback culture as safe space. In spaces where everyone shares responsibility, status becomes irrelevant. For Alexander, these environments were healing.

00:50:38 - Surviving past thirty. Alexander's father predicted he wouldn't live beyond thirty. When that birthday came and went, Alexander realised he'd never planned for a future. He moved to Berlin to live the life he hadn't imagined.

00:56:38 - Shame as disease. Alexander rejects the idea of "good shame." He believes shame kills people, and the only antidote is self-love, however hokey that sounds.

01:06:08 - On the other side of nihilism is joy. Life has no meaning, and that's liberating. Black holes will swallow everything eventually. In the meantime, there's no reason not to enjoy it.

01:09:51 - Remembering Sean. Alexander recalls a gay couple in Atlanta who gave him a room for almost nothing. When one of them, Sean, died of cancer in his forties, the community came together. Sean was one of many gay elders who provided shelter when a lost young man needed it.

01:13:24 - The postcard. "There's no more important thing you'll do in life than love yourself."

Guest Bio

Alexander Cheves is an American writer and columnist for Out magazine, currently based in Berlin. His erotic memoir My Love Is a Beast: Confessions won the 2022 Jeff Maynes Non-fiction Prize. He writes about sex, identity, kink, and living with HIV with characteristic honesty. His second book is currently in progress.

Resources

Gay Men's Health Crisis (GMHC) - gmhc.org - New York-based HIV/AIDS service organisation
The Sero Project - seroproject.com - Network of people with HIV fighting stigma and criminalisation
Prevention Access Campaign - preventionaccess.org - U=U (Undetectable = Untransmittable) information and advocacy
Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity
Positively UK - positivelyuk.org - Peer-led support for people living with HIV
My Love Is a Beast (Author’s Page): Unbound Edition Press
Alexander Cheves’ Columns: Out Magazine - Sexy Beast
Gay’s The Word (UK LGBT+ Bookshop): https://www.gaystheword.co.uk
HIV Criminalisation Information: HIV Justice Network

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Chris Smith: Diagnosis, Discovery, Defiance

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Summary

In 1987, Chris Smith received an HIV diagnosis and was told he might have months to live. His doctor's advice? Learn to live with uncertainty. Thirty-eight years later, he's the Chancellor of Cambridge University.

This episode traces Chris's journey through the darkest years of the epidemic whilst serving in the heart of British politics. He recounts the moment he came out as gay at a Rugby rally in 1984, his hands shaking, only to receive a standing ovation twenty seconds into his speech. He describes navigating Section 28 debates whilst secretly managing Kaposi's sarcoma and the brutal side effects of alpha interferon. And he shares the unlikely deal he struck with the Sunday Times that eventually led to a phone call from Nelson Mandela.

Chris reflects on what it meant to carry a secret whilst holding public office, the transformation that combination therapy brought, and the friend he lost in the late 80s whose memory still stays with him. His closing message is characteristically direct: be yourself, be unafraid, and tell your story in your own way.

Timestamped Takeaways

00:02:23 - Coming out at Rugby, 1984. Chris describes the moment he decided, mid-rally, to publicly declare his sexuality. A thousand people stood and applauded before he'd finished his first sentence.

00:07:32 - Public attitudes shifted faster than politics. Chris observes that ordinary people coming out in their families, workplaces, and neighbourhoods drove change more than any politician or celebrity.

00:10:13 - The terror of early awareness. News of the virus filtered through from America. Government tombstone adverts amplified fear rather than understanding.

00:12:41 - "Learn to live with uncertainty." Chris's doctor delivered this advice in the days before AZT. It became a guiding principle for the next four decades.

00:15:14 - Section 28 and finding love. Amid vile parliamentary speeches, Chris spotted an attractive young man across a committee room. They ended up living together for 24 years.

00:17:56 - Kaposi's sarcoma arrives. The visible marker of AIDS in films like Philadelphia appeared on Chris's body, though thankfully not where the public could see.

00:19:07 - Alpha interferon hell. For a year, Chris oscillated between feeling like he had severe flu and feeling normal, all whilst maintaining a demanding public role.

00:22:01 - Combination therapy changes everything. Suddenly there was hope. Side effects disappeared. Viral loads became undetectable.

00:25:19 - The Sunday Times deal. A journalist discovered Chris's status. Rather than fight it, Chris negotiated: hold the story, and when he was ready, the paper would have the exclusive.

00:28:55 - Mandela calls. Two years after the deal, inspired by Mandela's speech at his son's funeral, Chris went public. The next morning, a note on his desk read: "Please ring Mr. Mandela."

00:35:07 - Living with uncertainty today. Combination therapy has transformed the nature of uncertainty, but no one yet knows what 38 years of living with HIV means for the decades ahead.

00:36:16 - Remembering a friend. Chris recalls visiting a friend in his final weeks, a man once full of the joys of existence, now shrivelled and gaunt. The shock of seeing him was greater than losing him.

00:37:36 - The postcard to the world. "Be yourself. Be unafraid, and tell your story in your own way."

Guest Bio

Lord Chris Smith was elected MP for Islington South and Finsbury in 1983. He became Britain's first MP to voluntarily come out as gay in 1984, the world's first openly gay cabinet minister in 1997, and the first UK MP to publicly disclose living with HIV in 2005. He is currently Chancellor of the University of Cambridge.

Resources

Terrence Higgins Trust - tht.org.uk - UK's leading HIV and sexual health charity
National AIDS Trust - nat.org.uk - Policy, campaigning, and support
Positively UK - positivelyuk.org - Peer-led support for people living with HIV
HIV i-Base - i-base.info - Treatment information and advocacy
The Food Chain - foodchain.org.uk - Nutrition services for people living with HIV in London
The Food Chain (Patron: Chris Smith): https://www.foodchain.org.uk

This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis:

Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp

Trailer: Series 2

Fri, 02 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0100

Ten episodes of brilliance from ten inspiring people living with HIV.

Episode 1 drops Friday 6 February, 2026.

Email: HIVTheMorningAfter@gmail.com

Marc Thompson: Resistance, Roots, Resilience

Fri, 21 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Marc Thompson was diagnosed with HIV at just 17 in 1986, during the epidemic's most frightening early days when information wasn't reaching young black gay men in South London's vibrant but segregated queer scene. His journey from isolated teenager to influential activist illustrates the power of transforming personal experience into systemic change.

Feeling like the only young black gay man in HIV services, Marc recognised the vital importance of representation and community building, establishing the first support group for positive black gay men at the London Lighthouse.

His activism spans decades, from safer sex workshops in the 1990s through co-founding PrEPster in 2014 to fight for HIV prevention access, and creating Blackout UK to celebrate black queer lives.

Now serving as Lead Commissioner of the London HIV Prevention Programme, Marc has architected change that ensures black queer men are part of funding conversations and policy decisions. His story demonstrates how one person's determination to build the community they desperately needed can reshape an entire field, whilst his commitment to preserving stories through podcasts and archives ensures future generations understand their history and heritage.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:02 - Teenage life in 1986: "I was out on the scene and discovering myself... just being a curious, fun, engaged teenager."

04:37 - Segregated gay scene: "For many black queer people... those places were not particularly welcoming... because of racist door policies."

06:33 - Societal context: "The UK was deeply racist. The National Front was still marching on the streets."

07:32 - Community assumptions: "One of the rules we had in my community was, well, this is a white man's thing."

08:37 - Information access: "There was no route for that information to get directly to a young man like me."

09:53 - The diagnosis: "I'm told that they have come back positive. And the world stopped."

11:27 - Processing the news: "The only two things that kept reverberating... how am I going to tell my grandfather... I would never have children."

12:36 - Isolation of diagnosis: "I didn't know anyone who had HIV who looked like me."

13:01 - Multiple intersections: "I knew that all of this intersected with my blackness and my queerness."

14:16 - Mother's support: "I was able to tell my mum... she didn't throw me out of the house."

15:50 - Community gossip: "I became known in the small black gay community as Marc with the virus."

17:41 - First activism: "If I can teach these men... maybe they'll be less fearful... maybe there won't be so shit to people like me."

22:26 - First support group: "I'd set up the first black gay men's group... There were only four of us... probably one of the most important days of my life."

25:56 - PrEPster origins: "We set up PrEPster as a website... with the sole intention of providing education to our communities."

27:32 - Golden age of prevention: "The emergence of organisations like Gay Men Fighting AIDS... culturally appropriate, culturally specific information."

33:38 - Community resistance: "Why can't these young gay men just use condoms like we did? Aren't they fucking on the graves of the people that died?"

37:09 - Blackout UK mission: "We wanted to celebrate black queer lives... always coming from a place of love, joy and celebration."

41:06 - HIV equality: "We are all in some ways HIV equal, whether we're negative, positive or untested."

43:01 - Personal responsibility: "I take my medication to keep me alive. The fact that I get to fuck you bareback is a bonus."

48:32 - Fighting systemic change: "If we're having panel discussions, we need to ensure that those are balanced."

49:06 - Personal legacy: "I think he'd go, I'm not surprised... That's what we're meant to be doing."

55:12 - Remembrance: "All of the black gay men... who passed away in isolation, in fear... Those would be the people that I would want to remember."

57:29 - Final message: "Refuel the world... be more love tank... checking on that queer person you haven't heard from."

Gus Cairns: Legacy, Loss, Liberation

Fri, 14 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Gus Cairns was diagnosed with HIV in 1985 at age 29, having met the love of his life, Paul, who was already positive. An Oxford graduate drifting through London's gay scene, Gus wanted to share Paul's status, believing it meant they could have unprotected sex without consequences. What followed was a devastating education in AIDS as Paul slowly died over four and a half years, succumbing in January 1990 after insisting on showing Princess Diana his Kaposi's sarcoma lesions to reveal "what it was like."

Gus's own journey through near-death experiences, alternative therapies, and the transformative arrival of combination therapy in the mid-1990s illustrates the psychological complexity of surviving when so many friends died. His story captures the "Lazarus effect" - the unexpected challenge of learning to live again after preparing for death - whilst highlighting how trauma can be transformed into purpose.

Now 69 and a respected HIV educator, Gus reflects on 40 years of living with HIV with the wisdom of someone who has witnessed history and emerged determined to teach its lessons, particularly that "you can't moralise your way out of an epidemic."

Timestamped Takeaways

03:01 - Meeting Paul: "The reaction to Paul was summed up... 'why are you going out with that maniac?'"

06:51 - Sexual history: "If you're shagging around on the gay scene in the early 80s... I was quite good looking and I was horny."

08:40 - Seroconversion symptoms: "A clutch of very severe mouth ulcers... a classic, clear seroconversion symptom of HIV."

09:15 - Wanting to be positive: "I was so besotted by him that I actually wanted to be positive, too."

10:04 - Testing refusal: "They wouldn't give me an HIV test because the Ethics committee had decided it was essentially a death sentence."

12:46 - Princess Diana visit: "He said, I want them to see what it was like."

17:00 - Paul's final days: "He said, I want to go to the loo... That was his last moment of consciousness."

19:42 - Death certificate insistence: "Absolutely insisting that AIDS was recorded on his death certificate."

21:04 - AZT trial experience: "I lasted six weeks and then I said, I'm not taking this anymore."

23:08 - Survival mentality: "I was looking for a kind of survivor's mentality... split myself into two systems of belief."

24:12 - 1995 breakthrough: "Reading the report... seeing the virus load disappear in his subjects."

25:13 - Scientific turning point: "Right, I want these drugs."

26:37 - Survivor's depression: "I didn't realise I was terribly depressed... I didn't know how to cope with surviving."

28:37 - Wartime mentality: "People were dying left, right and centre all around you."

29:47 - Sexual behaviour change: "I'd taken an unconscious decision that I did not want to... inject HIV into somebody else."

32:26 - Current global concerns: "Trump cutting... all the assistance to Africa."

35:04 - War and inhibition: "In wartime people lose their inhibitions."

37:38 - Key lesson: "One of those lessons is that you can't moralise your way out of an epidemic."

41:03 - Remembering Paul: "He taught me the power of defiance and the power of absolutely standing up for yourself."

42:58 - Final wisdom: "Survival is the best revenge... don't let the anger and the stress get to you."

Peter Willis: Medicine, Malcolm, Mortality

Fri, 07 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Dr Peter Willis brings a unique dual perspective to HIV - as both physician and patient during the epidemic's most challenging years. Working as a GP in the early days when HIV meant certain death, Peter witnessed the professional helplessness of medicine whilst quietly assuming his own positive status after his 16-year partner Malcolm showed clear signs of AIDS. Malcolm refused testing and died in 1994, leaving Peter to navigate his own eventual diagnosis in 1995, just as combination therapy emerged to transform his prognosis from months to decades.

Now 83, Peter has been married to his Japanese partner for nearly 30 years and reflects on the extraordinary journey from expecting death before retirement to discovering pottery in his ninth decade. His story captures the medical profession's evolution from powerlessness to hope, the personal cost of stigma in healthcare settings, and the grace found in both losing love and finding it again. Peter's measured wisdom about ageing with HIV, drawn from both clinical knowledge and lived experience, offers profound insights into resilience, acceptance, and the unexpected gifts of longevity.

Timestamped Takeaways

02:52 - Early medical stigma: "Sometimes the envelopes... had 'HIV positive' written in red on the outside of the packet."

03:59 - Medical helplessness: "Initially, you really couldn't do anything."

04:48 - Malcolm's AIDS: "It was quite clear that he had AIDS. He didn't want to be tested."

05:49 - Professional compartmentalisation: "I treated patients as patients... separate from me."

06:26 - Assumed prognosis: "I always assumed that I wouldn't have very long to live, five years at the most."

06:53 - Early retirement: "Such a relief... I retired on the basis that I had less than six months to live."

08:05 - Limited gay scene engagement: "I was never much good at dancing... very self-conscious."

09:37 - Police warning: "If I were you, I'd get out of here. I'm a policeman."

10:27 - Professional fears: "I just couldn't face the prospect of being in the local newspaper as a GP."

11:16 - Diagnosis journey: "A friend... said, I'm coming to see you... I'm taking you to hospital."

12:57 - Receiving the news: "Steve said, I'm sorry, I have bad news for you."

13:45 - Survival factors: "I seem to be... immunologically tough... combination therapy came along in the nick of time."

14:34 - Social life impact: "My social life... was Golders Green Crematorium."

15:38 - Emotional detachment: "I didn't seem to get too stressed by what I... wonder, is it all suppressed?"

16:05 - Treatment transformation: "It's wonderful... it really changes everything."

16:41 - Current health: "HIV causes me no problems whatever."

17:10 - Disbelief at longevity: "I wouldn't have believed it... I can put it aside as being a kind thought."

19:29 - NHS appreciation: "Relies very heavily on people believing very much in what they're doing."

20:08 - U=U significance: "Wonderful idea that people no longer need to be fearful of having a relationship."

21:03 - Remembering Malcolm: "I was in love with him... all the time for 16 years."

23:35 - Final goodbye: "I said quietly in his ear, it's all right, love. You can go. I'll be all right without you."

25:06 - Funeral tribute: "I've never heard anything so wonderful about love."

25:26 - Final wisdom: "Enjoy life, be happy. Don't worry about challenges you can't achieve."

Matthew Hodson: Science, Sovereignty, Survival

Fri, 31 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Matthew Hodson represents one of Britain's most influential voices in HIV and LGBTQ+ activism, having lived openly and "shamelessly" with HIV for nearly three decades.

His journey began in the 1980s when coming out coincided with the emergence of AIDS, leading him to frontline activism against Section 28 and homophobic legislation. After avoiding testing for years due to fear and the lack of effective treatment, Matthew received his HIV diagnosis in 1997, just as combination therapy was revolutionising care. His transformation from someone carrying HIV as a shameful secret to becoming a leading advocate illustrates the power of visibility and self-acceptance.

As Chief Executive of Gay Men Fighting AIDS, Matthew championed honest conversations about viral load and treatment as prevention, challenging the "condoms only" orthodoxy years before U=U became accepted science. His landmark achievement as the first openly HIV-positive chair of a major AIDS conference in 2021 represents both personal triumph and overdue recognition that "nothing about us without us" should include leadership roles.

Matthew's story demonstrates how activism can transform not just society, but the activist themselves.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:12 - Early sexual awakening: "I took myself off to Heaven... and rid myself of my gay virginity."

04:13 - First AIDS documentary: "I sat down there... watch this documentary called The Killer in the Village... this is so far confined to gay men, particularly in America."

04:48 - Mother's reaction to coming out: "The first thing she said to me was, well, I expect you'll get AIDS and die then."

06:13 - Section 28 catalyst: "Section 28... I felt like I was forced out of the closet by Section 28."

07:43 - Peak homophobia: "The peak of homophobia was 1986, 1987... 75% of people believing that homosexuality was always or almost always wrong."

09:07 - Direct action: "We went down Fleet Street with pink paint and daubed pink triangles everywhere."

10:53 - Manchester march significance: "That was the largest ever gay rights protest gathering anywhere in the world."

12:13 - Avoiding testing: "I thought if someone told me that I was HIV positive now, I think I would just kill myself."

15:45 - 1996 Vancouver conference: "Changed everything... we can treat HIV."

16:43 - Testing experience: "You meet the profile of someone who will test positive."

17:35 - Diagnosis moment: "You've got about 20 years to live... those words... echoed in my head for days and days."

18:53 - Limited time perspective: "You've got a limited period to get things done. Now, what do you want to do with these precious years?"

21:07 - HIV stigma analysis: "If HIV most affected white, cis, straight men... there never would have been any HIV stigma."

23:02 - Sex-positive messaging: "Gay sex. Good. We like it. We enjoy it."

25:44 - Viral load messaging: "That use a condom every time message hadn't worked."

29:19 - Living shamelessly: "All of my fear and shame, my self stigmatising, has been washed away."

32:28 - Going public: "I press send... it was like jumping off a high board... let's just make sure I enter the water with grace."

34:39 - Early disclosure strategy: "I will try and find a way to get my HIV status into that conversation really early on."

36:51 - U=U amazement: "The risk is zero... how wonderfully astonishing is that?"

38:10 - Reclaiming slurs: "Every time you take something that is used against you and you make it into your own armour, it loses its power to hurt you."

39:20 - Historic achievement: "It still took until 2021... the first openly HIV positive chair."

41:32 - Ageing privilege: "Ageing is a privilege... denied to many people living with HIV."

47:22 - Final message: "If there's a change in the world which you want to see, be a part of that creation."

Anthony Bird: Dancing, Diagnosis, Defiance

Fri, 24 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Anthony Bird's HIV journey began dramatically in 1995 when he went from seroconversion to hospitalisation with PCP in just 4-5 months, an unusually rapid progression that fascinated medical consultants.

Working as a graphic designer in London and deeply embedded in the vibrant gay club scene centred around Brixton's legendary Fridge nightclub, Tony's diagnosis came at 28 during the height of the pre-combination therapy era.

His story captures the terror of thinking he wouldn't live to see 30, watching 30,000 balloons released at Pride representing AIDS deaths whilst believing one would represent him the following year. Yet Tony's experience stands apart from many others in its lack of shame or secrecy - his hospitalisation made his status obvious to friends, and he found himself surrounded by HIV-positive activists who provided community rather than isolation.

From near-death to the miraculous transformation brought by combination therapy, Tony's journey continues to the present day where he's found unexpected joy in ballroom dancing, describing himself as happier than at any point in his life whilst living with HIV as mere background noise.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:11 - Rapid onset: "I had what was a pretty classic seroconversion... two weeks off work because what felt like a really bad flu."

04:34 - Unable to work: "My last day at work... I didn't have the strength to put my boots on and walk downstairs."

05:17 - Dramatic weight loss: "By the time I was admitted to hospital, I'd gone down to seven and a half stone."

06:29 - Hospital relief: "I think I was just mainly feeling relief that finally someone was taking this seriously."

06:48 - Understanding the implications: "We think you've got PCP. Are you aware of the implications of that?... I knew exactly what the implications were."

09:37 - No confidence in treatment: "I had no confidence in the medication that was available... you develop resistance pretty quickly."

09:37 - Age and mortality: "I can remember... I said, I'm not going to live until I'm 30."

11:24 - The Fridge club scene: "I was absolutely obsessed with going to the Fridge listening to house music until six in the morning."

13:27 - Public diagnosis: "Because of the nature of my diagnosis... All my friends knew I was HIV positive."

14:47 - Family shame: "That was the sense of shame I felt... I'd let my parents down."

18:18 - Extreme blood results: "My viral load was way up in the 2 million, 3 million mark, my CD4 count was less than ten."

19:28 - Pride balloon release: "Each balloon represented someone who died of AIDS... I can remember thinking, next year one of those balloons is going to be me."

21:08 - Lasting damage: "I got shingles twice... the damage it did to my left eye means that I'm still blind in my left eye."

22:40 - Hearing about combination therapy: "People were just astounded by just how successful the trial had been."

24:08 - Medical breakthrough: "My consultant literally skipping down the corridor with the results. She was so pleased."

26:06 - Ongoing side effects: "Those early HIV drugs... some of the side effects are still pretty grim sometimes."

28:50 - Dating and disclosure: "I could put my HIV status up on my profile... other HIV positive men would see that and contact me."

36:35 - Ballroom dancing discovery: "If there is one regret I have, it's that I didn't go to a dance class when I was in my 20s."

38:22 - Finding community: "It's the most home I felt in a community in my life."

39:09 - Current reality: "It's pretty much normal for a gay man in his late 50s... has very little effect on my life."

40:23 - Present happiness: "I'm happier now than I have been at any point in my life."

41:33 - Final wisdom: "Keep an open heart and an open mind... that's the best way for staying young."

Caroline Guinness: Pioneering, Persistence, Purpose

Fri, 17 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Caroline Guinness was diagnosed with HIV in 1986, when she had a three-year-old daughter and was working in the music video industry with clients including Queen, David Bowie, and Duran Duran.

After a doctor performed an HIV test without permission during cervical cancer treatment, Caroline initially refused to know the result before ultimately being told she was positive for what was then called HTLV-III.

Given roughly five years to live, Caroline transformed her private struggle into public advocacy by co-founding and leading Positively Women, one of the UK's first peer-led support organisations specifically for women living with HIV.

Her journey spans nearly four decades of HIV history, from the pre-AZT era through combination therapy, whilst navigating motherhood, relationships, and the unique challenges faced by women in a predominantly male-focused epidemic response.

Caroline's story demonstrates how personal experience can become the foundation for systemic change, creating support networks that have helped countless women through their own HIV journeys.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:20 - Unwanted test revelation: "He'd done a test for what was called then HTLV-III... I got angry because he hadn't asked my permission."

04:13 - Initial refusal to know: "I got this kind of icy feeling, but I didn't want to know... whatever the result is, I do not wish to know."

05:18 - Doctor's decision: "I know you didn't want to know the results, but I think you're too intelligent not to know... you are positive."

06:14 - First concern for daughter: "My first reaction was my daughter instantly, could she have it?"

07:39 - Friend's devastating reaction: "She just screamed and said, I can't take another one. Someone I love dying."

08:06 - Feeling of detachment: "It was a bit like a sheet of glass suddenly went down between me and the rest of the world."

11:53 - Music video career peak: "We did everything all the Duran Duran, Elton John, David Bowie... We did Video Killed the Radio Star."

14:31 - First fundraising opportunity: "I immediately thought, oh, there's something I can do. There's something I can be proactive here."

19:26 - Different concerns for women: "Being female with HIV was actually very different. We had different concerns to men."

21:12 - Finding peer support: "I felt like I'd come home... to be with people who are in the same situation."

23:00 - Double life reality: "I was doing a lot of publicity as Caroline Guinness... and then I had a pseudonym called Pearl."

24:27 - Daughter's response: "Her reaction was, oh, is there anything I can do? And I said, well, you could help me with some of the housework."

25:38 - Daughter's courage: "She stood up and said... my mum is positive... can you please come and speak to my face."

29:35 - Health crisis: "Caroline, if you don't start taking these drugs, you are dead. You're not going to walk out of this hospital alive."

30:24 - Combination therapy reality: "I had the Lazarus effect... suddenly back in the world of the living."

32:48 - Women as vectors myth: "One of the hardest ones... was that we were these vectors of infection."

37:10 - Meeting Mark: "I did have this thing... butterflies in my stomach... when you know your life's about to change."

39:55 - Media invasion: "Guinness heiress... married to a famous actor dying of AIDS."

42:38 - Changing the narrative: "We changed the narrative... that turned into a positive thing."

44:17 - Greatest achievement: "Positively Women, without a doubt."

49:06 - Final message: "You deserve to live."

Martin Fenerty: Trauma, Time, Transformation

Fri, 10 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Martin Fenerty was diagnosed with HIV in 1993 at just 23 years old, following a severe facial herpes outbreak that led to testing at Liverpool's Seaman's Dispensary. Told he had 5-10 years to live, Martin found himself navigating early adulthood whilst facing his own mortality, complicated by family rejection over his sexuality and a relationship with an HIV-negative partner.

His journey through the pre-combination therapy years reveals the psychological impact of "waiting to die" - living in limbo whilst watching peers build careers and plan futures he believed he'd never see. Martin's experience of stigma within the gay community itself, where strangers would approach him to confirm his positive status, highlights how discrimination operated even in supposedly safe spaces.

Now 55 and working as an NHS counsellor and psychotherapist specialising in LGBTQ+ and HIV services, Martin's story demonstrates the profound psychological work required to transition from preparing for death to learning how to live when combination therapy offered unexpected longevity.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:39 - Young and isolated: "I'd been out as a gay man only for a couple of years... had quite a rough time with my family."

04:22 - Severe symptoms: "A huge outbreak of facial herpes... all over my face and my neck."

06:05 - Testing at the Seaman's Dispensary: "Favoured by gay men and people involved in sex work because it had a reputation for being more open minded."

08:01 - Receiving the diagnosis: "It was too much for me to take in... I was in shock."

09:56 - Partner dynamics: "He tested negative... the complexity really was around my response to that."

12:26 - Stigma everywhere: "HIV was very stigmatised... it was anathema to be associated with people who were positive, even in the gay community."

16:25 - Death sentence reality: "I was advised that my life would be limited... I wouldn't survive beyond 5-10 years."

21:54 - Confidentiality breach: "My HIV status became known to quite a number of people on the gay scene."

22:14 - Community discrimination: "People would make it known that they knew about my status... quite threatening, quite scary."

24:10 - Health decline: "I would vacuum my little living room... and I had to lie down and have a sleep."

26:02 - Waiting to die: "My life was sort of frozen... underpinning everything was this assumption that I was going to die."

27:39 - Internalised shame: "Maybe I did think I deserved to die... I regarded myself as a bad person who was worthless."

29:35 - Suicide as safety net: "I held on to that idea of suicide as a safety net... at least I can end my own life."

30:25 - Combination therapy transformation: "Within six months, my viral load... was undetectable."

32:08 - Learning to live: "The realisation that I was waiting to die was the realisation that I had to live."

34:07 - Ongoing vulnerability: "We can't necessarily take for granted that those people meant to be caring for us... are going to do that in good faith."

39:41 - Remembering Mark: "He was an example of a role model for me of how to live well with HIV."

44:09 - Final message: "There is life to be lived after HIV diagnosis... everything remains available to you."

Jim Vogiatzis: Diagnosis, Defiance, Dogs

Fri, 03 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Jim Vogiatzis was diagnosed with HIV in 1988 after recognising symptoms in both himself and his partner. Working at London Weekend Television, Jim faced the terror of early HIV diagnosis when it truly was a death sentence for most.

His journey through the brutal AZT trials, watching friends die, finding love with Stuart (a "sexy skinhead" with a Geordie accent), and ultimately surviving into the combination therapy era reveals the resilience required to navigate HIV's darkest years.

From caring for dying friends to facing his own mortality, Jim's story encompasses the raw reality of the epidemic's early decades. Now living with long-term health complications from early treatments whilst finding companionship with his emotional support dog Ron, Jim continues his activism against injustice whilst reflecting on a life shaped by survival, love, and the determination to speak truth to power.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:14 - Making the testing decision: "I made a conscious decision... to go to the GU clinic at James Pringle House and get tested."

03:54 - Anonymous testing protocol: "You were only identified by a number to protect your identity... twenty people in the waiting area. Who are you?"

04:59 - Right-wing press hostility: "Things like... they should be deported to the Isle of Wight... a priest who said if he found out his son was HIV, he'd have him shot."

06:52 - The diagnosis moment: "I'm really sorry to tell you, but you're HIV positive."

08:29 - Supporting dying friends: "I saw as an incredible privilege to be allowed to be there with them and hold their hand."

11:36 - Fear of dying alone: "I was told by somebody I would die alone, basically because of my diagnosis."

13:38 - Boss's supportive response: "He just came round his desk, put his arm on my shoulder and said... don't worry, everything's going to be okay."

15:06 - Early symptoms: "Chest infections I could never shake off... pins and needles in my hands and my feet."

18:48 - AZT trial horrors: "You'd have to set your alarm for the middle of the night to take the next dose. So you never felt truly rested."

19:08 - Severe side effects: "The nausea was so horrendous that you couldn't help yourself... affecting my social life."

20:58 - Meeting Stuart: "Very sexy skinhead... boots, braces, tight t-shirts, cheeky smile, Geordie accent."

24:06 - Valentine's memory: "Got a postcard of a sexy man showing his bum. On the inside... it said, sexy bum kiss."

26:37 - Stuart's decline: "He had PCP... then he had what we call a stroke... destroyed him because he was such an active person."

29:44 - Long-term treatment effects: "Some of the side effects... will last you for your whole life... peripheral neuropathy."

32:51 - Lost support services: "The NHS had stopped funding those services... that safe place to go to."

35:07 - Finding Ron: "Ron is crying in his pen... put his paws through and touched my arm, and I knew that I had to take him home."

36:58 - Final message: "Be authentic. Love and never be afraid to say that I love you and always speak your truth."

Susan Cole-Haley: Motherhood, Medicine, Movement

Fri, 26 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Susan Cole-Haley received her HIV diagnosis during routine immigration testing in January 1999, when her children were just five and seven years old. Told she had seven years to live by a poorly informed doctor, Susan has spent over two decades transforming from corporate sales executive to one of the UK's most influential HIV advocates.

Her journey encompasses raising four children, navigating healthcare discrimination, and fighting for health equity for marginalised communities. As co-founder of Phoenix Health Movement and former broadcaster of AIDS Map Live, Susan's work addresses the persistent inequalities affecting black women and other communities disproportionately impacted by HIV. Her story challenges assumptions about who gets HIV whilst demonstrating how advocacy can emerge from personal experience to create systemic change for others facing similar struggles.

Timestamped Takeaways

03:37 - The shocking diagnosis moment: "The doctor said to me, well, the good news is you don't have syphilis... But the bad news is you're HIV positive."

04:27 - Being told the wrong prognosis: "I said to the doctor, well, how long do you think you've got to live? And he said, oh, about seven years or so."

06:12 - Learning the truth through family support: "I realised that actually the doctor was wrong and that I could expect to have... a near normal life expectancy."

07:40 - Father's response highlighting stigma: "One of the first things he said to me was, make sure you don't tell anyone about this."

08:50 - GP's dismissive attitude: "My GP... said to me, oh no dear, that doesn't affect ladies like you."

13:37 - Cancer diagnosis complications: Finding breast cancer six months after being told it was just a cyst.

14:55 - Experiencing healthcare stigma: Oncologist asking "how I got HIV, how I wasn't passing it on to my HIV negative husband."

19:58 - 9/11 as turning point: "It made me feel like I wanted to do something more meaningful and impactful with my life."

22:56 - Naked magazine cover controversy: "I did a naked cover... to show that women living with HIV could have children born free of HIV."

24:46 - Healthcare inequalities: "Health inequalities affecting black women are nothing new. They've been affecting us for generations."

29:33 - Setting up Phoenix Health Movement: "We really felt that the care, particularly affecting black women just was not good enough."

32:44 - Interviewing Richard Gere whilst pregnant: "I said, oh, too busy for a pregnant woman living with HIV. And somehow that works."

36:33 - Global funding crisis: "It's estimated that over 6 million people will die in the next four years from HIV related causes because of funding cuts."

41:32 - Message to women needing help: "Please fight for your rights. You deserve optimal care."

Jonathan Blake: Diagnosis, Defiance, Dignity

Fri, 19 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Jonathan Blake was diagnosed with HIV in October 1982 at age 33, given 2-9 months to live. More than four decades later, he remains one of the UK's longest-term survivors. His extraordinary journey encompasses the terror of early diagnosis, the isolation of stigma, finding love with companion Nigel Young, and witnessing the transformation from death sentence to manageable condition.

From his early days as an actor working at Joe Allen restaurant, through the bleakest years of the epidemic, to becoming an advocate at HIV drop-in centres, Jonathan's story reveals how survival often depends on connection, purpose, and the courage to keep living in the present. His insights into the evolution of treatment, the importance of knowing your status, and the ongoing challenges of ageing with HIV offer both historical perspective and contemporary relevance.

Topics

early HIV diagnoses in the UK
AIDS crisis history
long-term HIV survivors
stigma and activism
LGBTQ history

Timestamped Takeaways

02:14 - The vibrant gay scene of 1980s London: "London is really horny. We would finish shifts. We would go down to heaven to kind of just unwind."

06:05 - Early awareness through Capital Gay newspaper of something happening in San Francisco and New York, July-August 1982.

09:36 - The diagnosis: "They said, you have a virus, there is no cure. You've got between 2 and 9 months to live. But you can go home."

10:41 - The isolation of early HIV: "I feel like a modern day leper. I isolated myself... I would stand in the darkest corner."

13:25 - Contemplating suicide: "I was going to basically run a hot bath... and I would slash my wrists and I would bleed out the Roman way."

15:27 - Meeting Nigel Young at the nuclear protest: "Hello? My name is Nigel. Who are you?... it just seemed not to make the slightest bit of difference."

21:11 - Finding purpose through education: "I thought, well, you know, why not? Because again, that's going to keep me occupied and busy."

26:00 - Refusing AZT trial: "If you can't be bothered to pair up, I can't be bothered to do that trial."

32:03 - Starting combination therapy in 1996: "You've got to go on combination therapy."

33:54 - The miracle of effective treatment: "The morning of the fourth week, I woke up with such energy I could not believe it."

41:30 - The 2015 study results: "If you were on effective medication as an HIV positive person, one could not pass or infect another person."

44:11 - Challenging stigma: "They use this awful expression clean. I loathe it."

45:07 - Concerns about ageing: "If I have to go into a care home, how will I be treated?"

55:31 - Final message: "Be brave, get tested, know your status."

Trailer: Series 1

Mon, 25 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0100

Ten episodes of love, loss and courage from ten inspiring people living with HIV.

Episode 1 drops Friday 19 September, 2025.

Email: HIVTheMorningAfter@gmail.com

HIV: The Morning After

dan glass: Rage, Resistance, Reconnection

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Nikolaj Tange Lange: Porn, Punk, Perspective

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“Jan”: Borders, Belonging, Becoming

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Eli Fitzgerald: Identity, Isolation, Integration

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Silvia Petretti: Peers, Power, Persistence

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Diego Agurto Beroiza: Archives, Activism, Alarm

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Garry Brough: Peers, Passion, Perseverance

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Angelina Namiba: Motherhood, Mentoring, Movement

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Alexander Cheves: Sex, Sovereignty, Survival

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Chris Smith: Diagnosis, Discovery, Defiance

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Trailer: Series 2

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Marc Thompson: Resistance, Roots, Resilience

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Gus Cairns: Legacy, Loss, Liberation

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Peter Willis: Medicine, Malcolm, Mortality

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Matthew Hodson: Science, Sovereignty, Survival

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Anthony Bird: Dancing, Diagnosis, Defiance

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Caroline Guinness: Pioneering, Persistence, Purpose

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Martin Fenerty: Trauma, Time, Transformation

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Jim Vogiatzis: Diagnosis, Defiance, Dogs

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Susan Cole-Haley: Motherhood, Medicine, Movement

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Jonathan Blake: Diagnosis, Defiance, Dignity