"I was once desperate."

She is an HIV-infected patient and a peer supporter in the Green Song Lam Self-Help Group (Vinh City). I spent an afternoon with her, and I came to understand the fragile boundaries of life, the value of faith, and the drive to succeed. And I came to believe that happiness truly exists in that slender woman as she shared with me the ups and downs and transformations of her life...

The fateful day

It was a day in October 2001, holding the HIV test results from Bach Mai Hospital (Hanoi) showing a positive result, she couldn't believe her eyes. Running back to the small room where she and her sisters were being housed by the labor recruitment center to learn Chinese while waiting to depart for Taiwan, she buried her face in her hands on the bed.

Oh dear, the pungent, salty smell of sweat, the smell of hardship clinging to the blankets and mattresses, suddenly seemed so distant to her. Her roommates, from all corners of the country, had also left their homes, their husbands and children, because of the hardships and difficulties they faced. Just a few days ago, she still felt fortunate when she saw their calloused hands, their cracked heels, the bruises from being beaten by their drunken husbands...

They were trying to comfort her. At that moment, she thought she was the unhappiest person in the world. She wished she could trade her calloused hands, her cracked heels, her bruises... she would pay any price for them.

At that moment, all words of comfort seemed meaningless to her. Her ears buzzed, her eyes blurred with tears. Her motionless body occasionally let out a series of sobs. She didn't know day or night, nor did she eat or drink, tearing herself apart in agonizing pain. Days passed like this...

During moments of weightlessness and emptiness, the past would resurface like a slow-motion film: getting married at 20, the long journeys with her drug-addicted husband, the hardships and worries she faced too early as a pampered girl, the birth of her child...

It seems she has never once touched happiness. Opening her eyes, she finds herself trapped by darkness, even though outside, just a step away from this room, lies the bustling city. People live their lives with excitement, and no one knows, no one stops to listen to her despair. She doesn't blame her husband, absolutely not, even though he is the cause of this suffering. If she blames anyone, it's drugs, which have robbed her of her dream of a husband, and her child of a father like so many other ordinary families.

With nothing left to cling to, she wished she could just lie there and fall into a deep sleep. She couldn't go home, she couldn't. She wanted to die!

small flame

Just as she was choosing that dark path, she received a phone call from her family, from her little daughter, who was just over two years old. The child called, "Mommy, please come home to me. Daddy's always out, he never puts a coat on me, and I'm so cold."

Oh, my daughter. My little, frail daughter is cold. Why would this foolish young mother think of leaving? And then there's my mother, who fainted when she heard the news about me. (Later, out of grief for her daughter, she would often run out into the streets all night, like someone with a mental illness.) In my mind, that dark road suddenly stretched far into the distance, how terrifying it seemed.

She woke up, staggering, and got ready to go home. On that journey back, she had no other thought than to get home quickly so she could see and hug her daughter. It wasn't her who warmed her, but her daughter, the little flame that beckoned her back, making her whole body tremble with the warm feeling when her daughter nestled her head against her chest, telling her funny stories. Strength, resilience, faith... everything, everything was there, in that tiny body that fit perfectly in her arms.

Students participate in a drawing competition on drug prevention and HIV awareness. Photo: AV (Internet)

A series of misfortunes

Shortly after returning home, her husband was arrested on drug charges. In seven years of marriage, she only had two years of intimate time with him. Even then, he was a long-distance truck driver, always away from home.

After that, he spent five years in a reformatory and was released when his condition became too severe. With her husband gone, she wept even more. But that wasn't the end of it. Again in October of 2008, her daughter suffered from a persistent fever and diarrhea. She still couldn't face the truth that her daughter had contracted her mother's illness. When the test results came back, she didn't dare go to collect them...

Then came the moment she had to face the most terrible thing: her daughter had also contracted HIV. Suddenly penniless, utterly empty, she felt like she was falling into a deep, windswept abyss. She had watched her daughter grow up, healthy thanks to those two lovely dimples, and worked tirelessly for a small dowry for her daughter, but why...?

No, she had to save him at all costs. She couldn't let go, she couldn't surrender. For ten long months, the child was tormented by so many illnesses, not just fever and diarrhea, but tuberculosis, bone decay, blood fungus... The young mother held her child in her arms, receiving IV fluids for over ten hours a day, and every night she looked up at the vast sky to pray, wishing she could bear all the pain her child was enduring, along with any other punishment, and she would gladly accept it...

For ten months, she was destitute, not only financially, but her body was reduced to a mere shell. Every day, in the hospital room, witnessing the children who had played with her daughter yesterday now gone, she couldn't take her eyes off her daughter, trembling with every heartbeat. When the National Children's Hospital advised taking the child home, she felt like she had turned to stone. Once again, watching the cars go by outside, the bustling lives of the people, she felt how indifferent the world was to her misfortune. She nestled the tiny body against her chest and said: "I can't lose you, my child."

Never surrender

So, she patiently carried her child to Nghe An Children's Hospital, to the Pediatric Outpatient Clinic (part of the Life-GAP project). The doctors, nurses, and peer counselors wholeheartedly guided her on how to care for her child and herself. In her small, one-story house, since her husband's death, her mother has been living with them, two women coming and going with a frail child. Three hearts aching, burdened by illness, sorrow, and despair. But they never gave up.

After that Lunar New Year, the little girl suddenly recovered. The mother seemed to be reborn day by day with her daughter's brighter complexion. Cheerful children's songs filled the small house again. And laughter, after so long, returned. Her daughter had risen again thanks to a miraculous event. Was that miracle the result of love, determination, and tireless effort? The child returned to school after a year of absence for treatment. And the mother, alongside her anxieties, found renewed hope. The young mother found joy in life in her child and in her new job: a peer supporter in the Green Song Lam Self-Help Group.

It's hard to believe, but she said that only now, after so many tears, has she truly experienced happiness. Understanding the price of so many tears, she realizes just how immense that simple happiness is. A good, studious child who reminds her to take her medicine at the right time every day. A job, though low-paying, that allows her to meet and share experiences with so many people in similar situations.

She spoke about her children and her work with undeniable pride. "And yet there was a time when I was so desperate," she said, her eyes sparkling with joy, as if those unhappy days were long gone.

Every morning, upon arriving at her office, she maintains the habit of going online to find information about AIDS, checking for new medical advances and new methods of communication to help people with HIV no longer feel hopeless. She confidently told me, "My daughter and I will remain healthy until a cure is found." She also shared, "Many people think that being infected with HIV is the end. But life only truly ends for those who give up. A person infected with HIV desperately needs the support and compassion of the community; discriminatory glances will discourage them. I was once discriminated against, but luckily I also received love. The value I realized after all this is the meaning of life. Each person's life is determined by themselves. And, as you can see, I am very healthy, and my daughter is also very healthy and doing well in school, even though we have both been infected with HIV for over 10 years."

I silently gazed at her, the slender woman who had endured so much hardship, yet whose youthful beauty remained undimmed. I secretly believed that, somehow, fate would still reward those who knew how to hope and patiently wait. I asked her: "You're so young and beautiful, why didn't you participate in the 'Charming Plus' contest (a nationwide beauty contest for people with HIV)?" She smiled: "Many people encouraged me to participate, but I was too busy. There are still opportunities, who knows, maybe I'll go next year."

Pham Thuy Vinh