Eric Orlando Prado ~ Cancer/ HIV
I grew up in a small South Texas border town. My family was very dysfunctional and there was little to no affection or laughter in my home. I wanted to be a dancer and a twirler, but it just wasn’t an option for boys, and my abusive father and older brother didn’t make it any easier to pursue my dreams.

I would go to football games and see the happy performers in shiny costumes doing amazing, crowd-pleasing things. They looked like they were doing something that brought out the best in them and gave them an opportunity to shine, and it gave me hope that I may be happy as well.

I convinced my mother to put me in dance classes at the age of 9 and baton twirling lessons shortly after. I knew it was WHO I was. I won my first title at 10 years old, I became a feature twirler for my high school marching band, and I was the only male member of my drill team . . . I was living my dream.

When I was 15 years old, I was practicing twirling outside my apartment complex, and I was abducted and raped by an isolated man who I later found out was HIV positive. This terrified my mother and me, but I showed no signs of illness and the results from tests every six months came up benign and negative.

I was marching independent winter guard when I was 24 and I began feeling sick. I had a very healthy diet, exercised regularly, and was too busy to be sexually active, so I had absolutely no idea what could be wrong.

Over the holidays, I had a job with the Salvation Army ringing the donation bell in front of stores. It was snowing and sleeting heavily.
The exposure to the cold caused me to become very ill, and I was hospitalized with PCP Pneumonia, which triggered my immune system to break down. The doctors ran tests and I found out that I was HIV positive.

For the next couple of months I was in the ICU and my situation progressed to AIDS, at one point my doctors told me I had less than a week to live. The pain got so bad, I turned to my mom and I begged her, “Please pull the plug.” I was saddened and very scared. I was so young with a list of unfinished goals; for days I could do nothing but cry.

The pain increased when my father came all the way up state just to disown me. Having a son that was not a firefighter like him, but was, instead, openly gay, a baton twirler and a dancer with AIDS, was just too embarrassing for him. That hurt me more than anything.
My mother, however, never left my side for the entire time I was in the hospital.

Although my father’s reaction caused me pain, it molded me into the strong independent person I am today. I would like to say to the parents of Gay Children — We are all who we are for a reason and no matter what path we choose, we are still members of the family we have. True love is unconditional and blind. It knows no circumstance, no choices or diagnosis. It is fully accepting of who, what, and how you are.

The night before Valentine’s Day I abruptly woke. It struck me that I had a choice. Was I going to die in an ICU bed connected to machines, or was I going to fight it? I was tired of being the bullied, wimpy kid, tired of being the abused member of my family, I was tired of rejection and prejudice . . . I chose to fight it all.

The decision to fight combined with serious physical effort, led me on a miraculous journey to recovery. I lifted my arms and legs for exercise, tried to breathe without the oxygen tank, taught myself to take deep breaths without worrying that my lungs would pop. I taught myself to eat solid foods, to stand and eventually to walk. I learned true strength for the first time in my life. I realized I was still alive for a reason, and if I made it out I should live like it was my last day on earth . . . for real this time.

On March 15, I was discharged from the hospital.
My mom drove me home and it began to rain. I went outside and just stood there, appreciating life’s beauty and the warm rain on my pale face. Eventually, I gained my weight back, started to slowly dance again, and when, at last, I picked up my batons, I cried for joy.

At first, HIV was a constant haunting in my life. It affected my social and dating life and inhibited my trust in people. Life’s experiences can either make you ‘bitter’ or ‘better’. Life is so much sweeter if you choose to let your experiences make you ‘better’.

3 years after my hospital release I received a call from my doctor who informed me that I had stage three cancer. My grandmother lost her battle with colon cancer and passed on when I was 18. I felt that if my mom knew that I had it too, it would make her hysterical, so I kept it from her. In retrospect it was not a wise decision, but it did make me even more independent.

Over the next months I went for cancer treatment and radiation therapy. I was completely alone. I lost weight, most of my hair, and a lot of my confidence. At one point I covered up my mirrors to avoid feeling sorry for myself. I spent a lot of time resting, reading, shaving my spotty, balding head and hiding it from the world under a bandanna. All throughout my cancer diagnosis and my treatments, I kept telling myself, “This is not the end of me. I can do this”.
Near the end of the ordeal my parents came to visit and were alarmed to see my condition. I had no choice but to tell them. They packed my bags and took me to their home where I fully recovered.

Just last Spring, I began feeling weak and fatigued. The symptoms felt eerily familiar. After testing, it was confirmed that the cancer had returned. Fortunately, it was an early stage one relapse, meaning I only needed a simple surgery to have the problem areas of my colon removed. So, I checked myself in, had it all done, drove myself home and that was that. Now I am stronger than I was before and healthier than I have ever been. I am still twirling, still dancing, and teaching my students to be the best performers they can be. I am still cancer free, my HIV is undetectable, and I am staying inspired by others who have overcome similar situations and have stories to tell.

Cancer and HIV have made me much wiser and forced me to mature and become more responsible. I live for each day and appreciate everything more sincerely than before. Other attributes I have gained through adversity are having a sharper intuition, witty sense of humor and finding joy no matter how much pain I may be going through. I have also discovered a stronger connection to the elements and the universe.

What is beautiful in my life right now is that I am teaching high school kids who love to perform and be themselves instead of who they are told to be. It is so rewarding to be their instructor and a strong foundation on which they can stand tall and proud. They lift me up and it is awesome to know that I can do the same for them.

I don’t feel as if life has been unfair, I know I have become who I am today because of all I have gone through in the past. I never take a day for granted. I am only 32, I have huge plans and I am just getting started. When I am teaching and performing I feel like I’m right where I need to be, doing what I was born to do. Nothing else matters or exists and I am in a state of bliss where nothing can hurt me.
I am not bitter . . . I choose BETTER!