I was 11 years old when I contracted HIV, I was diagnosed with AIDS at 16. The news was a relief, actually, after a couple of years of waiting around to find out and adjusting to adolescence while nursing bleeding ulcers, when my doctors had already known for a year and were just getting their legal ducks in a row before springing the big news. My high school years consisted of nasty infections, a nagging fear that my terrible, shameful secret would be revealed, and a drug regimen toxic enough to bring down an elephant, not to mention my own personal regimen of vodka, acid, and whatever else I could get my hands on to ease the monotony while I waited around to die.
But when I look back on this specific time in my life, some thirty odd years later, I feel nothing but gratitude. I am healthy, stronger than I have ever been, in body, mind, and spirit. Facing the idea of death early on woke me up, showed me the necessity of being fully awake in every moment, to truly be thankful for every breath of life. I am wiser, and more acutely aware of the ugly vices of greed, exploitation and corruption that some in positions of power seem to be able to engage in while not losing even a single night of sleep. I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about human nature, as I hope to explain as I detail the bizarre events that fell into place and allowed for over 10,000 people to be murdered by pharmaceutical companies during the height of the AIDS epidemic.
I was born with hemophilia, a hereditary blood disorder that inhibits the blood’s ability to clot. The current treatment is a product made from thousands of donors which replaces the specific clotting factor that my blood is missing.
In the late 1970s through 1985, four pharmaceutical companies knowingly exposed 20,000 Americans with hemophilia to tainted blood clotting products, rather than warn, recall, or quarantine the clotting factor that they knew was contaminated. For at least fifteen years this darkest corner of the pharmaceutical-industrial-complex pumped a myriad of viruses into the veins of anyone who needed a blood transfusion while they amassed vast fortunes that would far outweigh the cost of future lawsuits.
The CDC began to warn the National Hemophilia Foundation, a highly trusted and, in fact, beloved advocacy group for hemophiliacs, of the risks from infected blood products in the early ’80s, but since it receives most of its money from drug companies, the NHF continued to recommend that hemophiliacs remain on the highly concentrated clotting factor regimens, even though much less risky options were available. My doctor, as well as most across the country, echoed their sentiments. Similar conflicts of interest seemed to apply, most of them were paid consultants for the drug industry at the time.
When the U.S. Government finally put a stop to these shenanigans, after years of screaming by the hemophilia community as well as the CDC, these companies shipped the contaminated product to China and various Latin American countries rather than throw billions in profit down the drain with a mass recall.
Drug companies have basically been allowed to regulate themselves in the United States, with a staggering amount of influence in the workings of government through the system of bribery known as lobbying and campaign contributions. The pharmaceutical industry is the thing that tells the 800-pound gorilla where to sleep.
In the late ‘90s the lawsuits finally came, no thanks to the NHF, but to the hard work and due diligence of the patients themselves, working with their attorneys, pouring over internal corporate memos until the whole truth had been pieced together. Most hemophiliacs had aged beyond the statute of limitations requirements for a direct lawsuit, so the whole ugly incident was resolved with a $640 million settlement paid by Bayer AG, Baxter Healthacre Corp., Armour Pharmaceutical, and Alpha Therapeutics Corp. This amounted to $100,000 per person and I was one of the lucky recipients of this fabulous cash prize. I had more money than I’d ever seen in my life and these revered and trusted companies, these “angels of mercy,” were required to admit no guilt or criminal wrongdoing whatsoever. Everyone was a winner.
Sure, most of my friends who had embarked with me on this grueling legal crusade were dead or dying, not to mention the wives and children they unknowingly infected, but surely we got something out of it. The blood supply is a little safer, although the CDC is warning of parvovirus and Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease contamination, emerging pathogens, the scrappy up-and-comers to watch out for this season. An outbreak of fungal meningitis has been linked to steroid shots for back pain and has killed hundreds all over the country. Throughout every city and town, fretful Americans are standing in lines for flu shots containing God knows what because their doctors pressure them like a seasoned pusher, hoping for a sweet cash bonus for high patient compliance paid by the altruistic manufacturer of the drug.
Rather than view these few examples as gross negligence, ominous pandemics, or even sinister conspiracies, just try to see it from the drug company’s point of view, imagine the treatment opportunities! And we all know, in a culture of greed, exploitation and corruption, “treatment” is just another word for “profit.”
(Mike Gibson is an artist, musician and writer, whose work has appeared in a wide variety of print and online publications. He currently resides in Palm Springs, California.)
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