In 1990, Tom Buchanan moved to Chicago from Rome, Italy, and saw an ad for an HIV support group at Horizons, then a gay service center. He called and spoke to a volunteer. "When I hung up I cried like a baby," he said, "I'd never told a stranger that I had HIV."
Now living in Tucson, Ariz., Buchanan calculates he's a 28-year HIV survivor.
After three years in the Peace Corps in Togo, in 1986, Buchanan, then age 35, became the regional director of CARE in Dallas. A dream job hung in the air—he was recommended for a mid-career foreign service assignment with the State Department. The Western Blot test for HIV was introduced that year and Buchanan was tested and diagnosed positive. At the time, the State Department wouldn't hire anyone with HIV.
There were no medications to help people with HIV or AIDS at the time. Buchanan focused on a healthy diet and exercise—"I walked everywhere." Twice a year, he returned to his hometown of Kalamazoo, Mich., to be tested at Borgess hospital there.
As soon as he entered the hospital, he was presented with a large yellow poster with the words "HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS." He would have to display this wherever he went in the facility, all the while worrying that he'd run into someone he might know. But, his tests reflected a healthy prognosis.
"My reaction was that if there was anything in life I wanted to do, I might as well do it now," he said. His circle of friends in Dallas were dead or dying.
He got a job as the USO director in Rome and combined work providing services to U.S. military personnel and serving as liaison to the Vatican (where he became acquainted with Pope John Paul II) with travel.
"I have a strong desire to understand other cultures and to experience life in other countries, not just as a tourist," he said. He immersed himself in Italy—thoroughly exploring the country. In addition, his work brought other chances to travel—to Turkey, Egypt, Tunisia. Buchanan speaks Italian and French fluently.
"Living with HIV, there are two things that exist simultaneously," he said. One is the attitude—'this isn't going to get me.' I'd feel normal and healthy, but, out of the blue the reality of the diagnosis would hit me like a ton of bricks. I might be sitting in the diplomatic seats at midnight mass at the Vatican at Christmas and think, 'this might be my last Christmas.' Or, I could marvel at St. Mark's Square in Venice or an exquisite Michelangelo and think 'I may never see this again.'"
"You get a garden variety cold or you hear of the death of a friend, and there is a moment of almost panic—is this the beginning of the end? Then, you shake it off and go on," Buchanan added.
"When you have a life-threatening disease you ask yourself 'what is important to me and how do I want to live my life. It may inform my life, but I can't allow it to determine who I am'."
In Chicago, he worked for CARE doing major gift fundraising, and participated in Horizons' 12-week support group, then went through the 40-hour training sessions to become a support group facilitator. "It's sad thinking about the people who were in those groups—no one I knew as a volunteer is alive today."
"I know intimately the concept of survivor's guilt," he acknowledged.
Like others, Buchanan benefited from Chicago's AIDS Alternative Health Project, which offered massage therapy, chiropractic treatments and acupuncture.
"People do go through the stages of grief—anger, denial, bargaining. In a group you see people in all different places in that process. Some people stay stuck in anger. Some people reach a tremendous sense of forgiveness for themselves and for other people—maybe someone who infected them or other people who have damaged and hurt them. The biggest stage of all is forgiving yourself," he stated.
"It was upsetting when I'd see other people who were so depressed they couldn't move or get out of bed. At the time I remember some people ran up credit cards on the assumption that they wouldn't be around very long," he said.
"Then, there were Viatical settlements—companies would buy the life insurance policies of those with AIDS for 70-80% of value. When people didn't die, the companies lost money; when they did die, they made money."
The breakthrough treatment for HIV/AIDS was AZT, introduced in 1987, although Buchanan was not treated with it—his doctor thought it better to wait until there was more evidence of the proper dosage and known side effects.
"The name of the game is to stay a couple of steps beyond the learning curve for treatments." Buchanan is currently on a combination therapy.
At Horizons, Buchanan met Richard Uppling, a psychologist, who resigned from his volunteer work at Horizons when the two began a relationship. Uppling was also HIV positive—"our attitude was that we were going to beat this thing." They were together for three years.
Uppling completed doctoral course work at the Illinois Professional School of Psychology. The school awarded him an honorary doctorate in October 1995. He died of complications due to AIDS a month later. "I figured that I had had the one great love of my life," Buchanan said.
In 1992, Buchanan became the executive director of Horizons, then faltering from a combination of lack of funds and mis-management. In addition to the support groups, Horizons offered youth and anti-violence programs, psychotherapy, legal aid and a HELP line.
Under Buchanan's management, Horizons was able to stabilize and increase funding and services. He also became close to Robert Bell, a corporate attorney and 18-year Horizons board member. Their friendship deepened—they're now celebrating 14 years together.
Buchanan remembers at dinner around 1994 at the home of Dr. Thom Klein. Laird Petersen, Bell, Buchanan and a few friends decided Horizons should become a broad-based LGBT community center.
"Horizons was a great place for people who needed help with problems,"
Buchanan said, "but we wanted to have a center where there could be a combination of advocacy, educational and social programs that would involve the entire LGBT community."
Bell took up the cause of raising money as co-chair of a capital campaign—Mayor Richard Daley and Billie Jean King were honorary co-chairs. Patrick Sheahan, Michael Leppen and the late Martin Gapshis played instrumental roles in fundraising for what transformed Horizons into the Center on Halsted.
After five years as executive director of Horizons, Buchanan returned to CARE and eventually worked half-time to allow himself the time to start a home-based flower business, The Right Arrangement. In late 2001, he left CARE to become part-time development director for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago where he had been serving on the board.
Prior to the opening of the Center on Halsted in 2006, Buchanan and Bell were given its Human First award, the Center's annual honor.
That year, the couple moved to Tucson where Buchanan now serves as the half-time development director for the University of Arizona Institute of LGBT Studies and also teaches part-time through the university's Center for English as a Second Language.
In addition, Buchanan volunteers at a refugee resettlement program, at Wingspan—Tucson's LGBT community center, and at TIHAN—Tucson's Inter-faith HIV/AIDS Network. And, at home, he's an avid gardener and painter.
Buchanan said he appears to be a "non-progressor," meaning that he has not experienced any AIDS-related illnesses. He said his doctors in Tucson have even re-tested him for HIV, saying that his blood profile is normal and healthy, and that his viral load is undetectable. He has not needed to go on protease inhibitors or other more current medications. Buchanan said he has no idea why he has remained so healthy and but is grateful. He credits strong adherence to his medications and a belief in acupuncture, meditation and a healthy lifestyle.
"It was interesting to observe the transition of thinking of HIV/AIDS as a death sentence to seeing it as treatable. The hope always was that there would be a cure. But we slowly came to see this as a lifetime manageable disease. There was not going to be a silver bullet. But, a lot of people are living long lives with HIV/AIDS. There are a lot of people out there like me."
