Writing Services

freelance writer Rosemary Phillips

Interview Articles - David Dunlop

David Dunlop - Interior Architect

Walking with AIDS through crossroads

David Dunlop once had a very successful interior design company, a waterfront house in Deep Cove and a good life, by standards of the material world. All that changed when he found himself standing at a crossroad. This is his story.

"That was the best thing that ever happened to me, for in loosing my life, or what I thought was my life, I found out who I am."
	David Dunlop

Crossroad 1: Diagnosis - HIV positive

I had lost maybe ten good friends to AIDS and had sat by many hospital beds. Then in July 1993 I got the results from my own doctor. He said, “You’ve got about two years to live.”

That was before successful AIDS therapy drugs were available. I felt very scared. My friend Bobby had taken toxic drug therapies. The side effects were worse than the disease itself. I saw people with wasting syndrome, chronic diarrhoea, nausea, fatigue. It scared me, as did the process of dying. I wasn’t ready. I knew my gifts and abilities had hardly been explored or experienced. I had hardly touched on my full potential.

I decided not to go on the toxic drug therapy. Instead I would eat healthier and reduce stress and alcohol intake. There were moments of anger. What had I done wrong? Did I deserve this? I felt abandoned, not only by God but by society – the stigmatism that society has of AIDS - an outcast. I had already come to terms with being gay. I had lived in that community since arriving in Vancouver in 1977 and participated fully in the lifestyle. Yet in 1986 I found it unfulfilling. I knew there was more to life than the dramas of gay life. I had pulled out of the West End and went to live in Deep Cove.

Shortly after my diagnosis my partner left. I went into depression and was unable to meet a lot of my deadlines. I lost a couple of contracts and couldn’t pay my bills. I lost my house and everything that was dear to me, everything that I thought was my life.

Crossroad 2: The awakening in Paraguay

I sold up everything, cashed in my savings and went off on an adventure. Given that I only had two years to live I was going to make the best of it.

I had a fascination with Paraguay. There I reached my lowest point. I felt totally abandoned. There was no one to speak English with, no one to connect to. I had thoughts of despair and of giving up. I cried. I had so many tears. So much sadness. Partly my own, and partly for man’s inhumanity to man. This went on for about five months with weekly episodes of highs and lows. I faced fear and darkness and literally “woke up” in a boat floating down a river.

As I walked through shantytowns I saw people with nothing and yet they had everything that I was looking for. I began being grateful for what I did have, rather than being ungrateful for AIDS.

That was the start of the awakening of other aspects of myself that had been asleep. I had never been spiritually oriented. Compassionate, yes, but I was very much in the material world of bigger, better, brighter, faster, always striving for more, rather than accepting my own inner gifts.

“In the stillness of the mind, and the openness of the heart…”

Crossroad 3: Return to Vancouver

My attitude towards the two-year death sentence had changed. I was encouraged by how people were looking after people. I joined Friends for Life as a facilitator. I was invited to be part of a project that allowed an AIDS patient to pass over at home. I learned all the drug combinations - he was on over 60 meds a day. I learned about IV therapy. I organised doctor’s visits, nurses and home help, meals on wheels and family and friends coming and going. My role was to bring a feeling of calmness. It was one of the most profound experiences of my life – the gifts you receive out of giving or sharing yourself – that deeply touch your heart, and you know you are still alive, you are still with purpose.

Crossroad 4: The life of the gypsy begins

I had a very difficult time accepting materialism, the opulence, the wastage. I had gone much deeper into the human spirit. I returned to Paraguay for six months then went to Britain to visit with family. Upon returning to Vancouver I found I couldn’t be with people. I became a recluse.

The Pavilion

The Pavilion

I stayed over winter in a hut in the middle of a forest with no electricity, no running water. I sat for hours in meditation and visited a place in my mind where I knew every nut and bolt of an otherworldly structure based on sacred geometry. To keep cabin fever away I built a model of it. I call it the Pavilion.

Interior Architecture takes on new meaning

I wandered as a gypsy finding houses to sit, made more models and began intensive journal writing. My health was still maintaining and I had been to a naturopath who recommended various therapies.

I lived below the poverty line for several years then I received a small financial blessing that enabled me to settle into a home. I invested in tools and materials to create artistic picture frames with the thought of developing a small business.

Crossroads 5: Health crash - which road to take?

Then in February 2002 my health crashed down to a T-cell helper count of 40. Pneumonia, cancer, shingles, thrush and herpes set in within two weeks. The naturopath had nothing strong enough to reactivate my immune system. I headed into Vancouver to the AIDS specialist. It was time to go on the new AIDS therapy.

I’ve now had very large medical bills, and my savings are running out. I’m faced with choices, at another crossroad. If I choose going back into the system, disability benefits would only allow for a basement suite where I know my spirit would succumb to depression. I want my spirit and physical health to be in an environment that is nourishing and nurturing. I choose to set out once again on a new journey of starting that small business making models and picture frames.

While being interviewed from his home in Sechelt, David received word that his T-cell count had dropped again from 170 to 130. He was overcome with doubt and fear about his choice, worried that he won’t have the energy to carry out his dreams. When being reminded that all roads eventually lead home he decided to open ALL doors. He doesn’t have to take the journey alone. There is help along the way. “I gotta start walking with the love, fear, joy and sadness in celebration that I made it to this crossroad. The journey starts with the first step.”

Visit David’s web site for more information on his journey, his journals and his models. www.sacredspace.bc.ca

Note: There are many more articles on this site. Follow the link to view the Index of Articles.