Narrated account: A mother, battling vision loss due to HIV/AIDS, reminisces with her child about their shared moments
In the '90s, Gina Velasquez didn't just want to be a mother; she yearned for it with every fiber of her being. But when she was diagnosed with HIV and AIDS at 27, doctors foretold a daunting fate - her health deteriorating rapidly, and years slipping away. But Gina defied the odds, as treatments advanced and her health improved. When she was finally stable, she rekindled the dreams she had set aside - to abide as a mother. However, the cardiologists warned her - despite her child's good health, pregnancy would escalate the decline of her weakening vision due to the virus. So, mercifully, she decided to pursue motherhood. Her vision continued to fade after childbirth.
Today, we'll join Gina's poignant journey in our segment "Short-Form Audio Documentaries." Vivien Schutz leads us through Gina's transfixing story of holding on to memories and crafting new ones with her boy, Aidan Healey, before total blindness finally claimed her.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
GINA VELASQUEZ: It's like a slow, agonizing drip - like an endless faucet drenching you, bit by bit, until you're submerged in nothing but darkness. It's happening, and you can't stop it. You can't stop the drip. That's the process of going blind. That's what it feels like to me.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
AUTOMATED VOICE: Manhattan - 2019.
ODRIDGE: Hello.
VELASQUEZ: Oh, hi.
ODRIDGE: Can I join the fun?
VELASQUEZ: Yes, please. Hi, Dr. Odridge.
ODRIDGE: And how are you?
VELASQUEZ: I'm fine.
ODRIDGE: So what's been going on?
VELASQUEZ: Nothing's changed. It's still...silence. I do see light, though, which is good.
ODRIDGE: Here we go. So big, wide. You're going to do your pressure. Looking. Hold it.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
VELASQUEZ: Particularly during Aidan's infancy, when I knew that at some point I would lose my sight, I cherished those moments close to his face. I studied his features intently, memorizing every curve, every eyelash. Even as he grew older and I lost more of my vision, I found solace in the recollections engraved in my mind.
(SOUNDBITE OF WATER RUNNING)
VELASQUEZ: Aidan was just 3 or 4, and I would wash his hair gently. He'd get upset when water got in his eyes and cry. I'd apologize and clean his face with reassurances that mama couldn't see too well. Deep down, though, I knew we would find a way to endure.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
AIDAN HEALEY: Can you see in your dreams? Like, when you dream, do you see?
VELASQUEZ: Yes, I do. I believe dreams are a projection of memories, your inner world. When I dream of you, I see the cherubic boy I remember, though in reality, you've grown older.
HEALEY: I used to feel sad, thinking that you wouldn't know how I looked as I got older.
AUTOMATED VOICE: Home.
VELASQUEZ: (Speaking Spanish).
AUTOMATED VOICE: Long Island City.
VELASQUEZ: Aidan, where are you going to sit for the graduation?
AUTOMATED VOICE: 2020.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
GINA VELASQUEZ AND AIDAN HEALEY: (Singing) Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup. They slither as they pass. They slip away across the universe. Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind, accepting (ph) and inviting me. Jai Guru Deva, Om. Nothing's going to change my world. Nothing's going to change my world.
HEALEY: What do you think I look like?
VELASQUEZ: OK, I guess...well, to me, you remind me of young George Harrison. The long, wavy hair, chocolate brown eyes.
HEALEY: I suppose I could. Well, I do have brown eyes, and...
VELASQUEZ: Tall, thin. Dry sense of humor.
HEALEY: I guess I could be, like, a police sketch of George Harrison.
VELASQUEZ: (Laughter) Right. Yeah. And your ears - I think your ears are like mine, don't you? Can I feel them?
HEALEY: Sure.
VELASQUEZ: Oh, I've forgotten. Your ears are attached, aren't they? I can feel mine, they feel disconnected.
HEALEY: If you want, you can feel my nose.
VELASQUEZ: I forgot your ears were attached. Oh, I remember this little button nose below your eyes. See how it curves down and then up?
HEALEY: Yeah.
VELASQUEZ: Oh, my God.
Did you ever feel like you had to take care of me?
HEALEY: No.
VELASQUEZ: Never?
HEALEY: No.
VELASQUEZ: 'Cause, you know, that's the thing - I've never wanted you to feel any responsibility or duty.
HEALEY: I don't know. I guess as a child, if - you know, even if your circumstances are atypical, as long as it doesn't negatively impact your happiness, you don't question it.
VELASQUEZ: Yeah. Seems like I did alright there (laughter). Yeah.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
VELASQUEZ: Saturday, Feb. 17, 2024.
So just a little while ago, I turned the lights off and then turned them back on, and I looked in the direction where the light should have been, and realized I could hardly see any of it. It struck me suddenly that my vision had deteriorated even more. I'm almost completely blind now. It's strange because I'm not overwhelmed with grief. I think I've grown accustomed to vision loss by now, having gone through it for so long. This isn't as terrible as I thought it would be.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
VELASQUEZ: Alexa, play "Recovery" by Olivia Newton-John.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "RECOVERY")
OLIVIA NEWTON-JOHN: (Singing) I live on an island far away, all by myself.
VELASQUEZ: Having vision is a monumental confirmation of who you are, where you are, what surrounds you.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "RECOVERY")
NEWTON-JOHN: (Singing) Of hurting me, deserting...
VELASQUEZ: When you lose something like vision, reality can begin to feel like a concept.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "RECOVERY")
NEWTON-JOHN: (Singing) Lover, don't worry about my recovery.
VELASQUEZ: Human beings are incredibly adaptable. You find a way to connect, to appreciate what you do have. That's what I had to do.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "RECOVERY")
NEWTON-JOHN: (Singing) You won't recover... Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
- Gina Velasquez, diagnosed with HIV and AIDS in the '90s, recounts her poignant journey in the segment "Short-Form Audio Documentaries."
- Despite facing healthcare challenges, Gina defied the odds and pursued motherhood, even though pregnancy would deteriorate her vision.
- Vivien Schutz narrates Gina's story, detailing moments like washing her son's hair before she lost her sight.
- Gina, now almost completely blind, reminds her son, Aidan Healey, that dreams are projections of memories, and when she dreams of him, she still sees the cherubic boy he once was.
- In education and self-development, personal growth, and womens health, Gina's story offers insights into mental health, health and wellness, and parenting.
- As she nears total blindness, Gina adapts, relying on technology and her memories to navigate her life, demonstrating the resilience and adaptability of the human spirit.