HIVThe day I found out I had AIDS was a nightmare. April 12, 2006.

I'd spent 2 weeks in the hospital waiting to find out why I was constantly getting sick. I was sitting in the hospital room with my mother, a little anxious and very concerned.

My mom told me in an upbeat voice, "Be patient, everything will be just fine."

This day was a happy day for my mom. She had become a U.S. citizen and was now officially living the American Dream. She had good reason to be upbeat. But then her happiness faded when the doctor walked into the room and said, "WE KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE."

I still remember my mom's reaction. She placed a finger to her mouth trying to hint to the doctor not to tell me this way. She wanted me to talk to a therapist first. But she never had a chance to plan it with the doctors beforehand.

I asked him, "what do I have???"

He said, "TU TIENES SIDA" (you have AIDS.)

Immediately, I started screaming and crying. It was horrible to think that I was going to die from such an illness, in such a place, a hospital. My mom and the doctor tried to calm me down, but it didn't work. I stood on the hospital bed and screamed out of pain and fear. I don't remember another day in my life where I cried so much.

After the diagnosis of "AIDS," my treatment at the hospital continued for another two weeks. Treatment consisted of a catheter drawn into my heart, medication that caused diarrhea and panic attacks, and my time to sleep was reduced to probably two or three hours everyday. During most of the day, I had lab work done or some kind of annoying check up they do at the hospital when someone is "really" sick.

I waited for someone at the hospital to tell me it was all a bad dream, a big fat lie, but that never happened.

Finally, after four long weeks at the hospital, my mom got me out of there! After I left, a nurse visited me everyday at my apartment to help me with the medication. The entire ordeal of being diagnosed and having to take medication was horrible. It was too much for me to handle at the time. Whenever I went to see my doctor at the clinic I felt awful because it felt as if he was judging me.

And the medication with all the horrible side effects - sleeplessness, diarrhea, anxiety and fatigue - was a bit too much at first. At the time, I weighed 100 pounds at five feet, six inches. I started feeling more and more depressed as the days went by. I cried myself to sleep every night. I stopped doing things that made me feel good like hanging out with my friends, using the computer, watching TV, and taking long walks at the park.

Basically, I allowed this disease to stop me from living my life. I felt filthy and was disgusted with myself. Constantly, I found ways to punishe myself because of my status.

It has been three years and I am a totally different person, it's just amazing what time can do for one's sanity. The pain is still there and it will not go away. It is something that will be with me for the rest of my life. But I don't look at it the same way I did three years ago. Life can be beautiful and painful all at the same time but it depends on what you make out of it. It is a gift that you can't give back.

For Beyond the Odds, I'm JoJo Napoles.

JoJo Napoles is a 24 year old blogger based in Berkeley, California. His writings focus on HIV, drugs, and some other random stuff. JoJo is a graduate of Miami Senior High School in Florida. His loves include aviation, video games, movies and cool people. He was diagnosed with having AIDS in April 2006. Contact him at beyondtheodds.org.

Beyond the Odds is a multimedia arts project created to illuminate the impact of HIV and AIDS on low-income and minority youth through http://www.beyondtheodds.org/. This project is made possible by the Association of Independents in Radio and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. For more info visit http://www.mq2.org/.