She is up at 5:30 a.m. to swallow 4 pills: Three protease inhibitors and one combination pill of AZT and 3TC.
At 1:30 p.m., it's the protease inhibitors again. At 5:30 p.m., the AZT and 3TC.
At 9:30 p.m., a third dose of protease inhibitors.
The whole routine starts over the next morning. She takes her medicine with her wherever she goes. She wears a watch with a multiple-setting timer.
To miss a does is to run the risk that the HIV, currently lurking at an undetectable level in her blood, will develop resistance to the drugs and eventually explode into AIDS.
Lisa is not an IV drug user, not a prostitute, not gay. Her exposure to HIV, the virus that causes AIDS, came from one night of unprotected sex in 1985, when she was 19 years old.
"I could be anybody," she says.
This is the story of AIDS today. For some time, it has not been primarily a gay men's disease. More women are getting it, more children are getting it.
And although new drugs are helping many people stay symptom free for years, it's still incurable.
"People need to realize it's real. It's here," Lisa said.
This is also a story about families, about love and about hanging onto hope. It's the message Lisa and her sister, Julie, want to emphasize as people gather this weekend for the Willmar area's second annual AIDS Walk.
"I think the whole family is a lot stronger because of this. It definitely has pulled us together," said Julie. "If God created AIDS for a reason, it was to teach us compassion....I have found so many wonderful people through this experience. There's some really neat and caring people out there."
Julie, 34, has turned into an activist. She's a volunteer with the Rural AIDS Action Network. She gives talks to teen-agers about HIV prevention. Lisa, now 32, lives in Minneapolis, where she manages a busy convenience store.
This is the first time she's gone public with her story.
"I've always believed that God does things for a reason and my being quiet isn't serving any purpose," she said. "It's just time."
Back in 1985 she didn't see AIDS as a threat. The virus was then mostly found among gay men and was more prevalent on the East and West Coasts than in the Midwest. She didn't fit into any of the other high-risk groups either, including intra-venous drug users and people with multiple sexual partners.
In 1988 she became ill with mononucleosis, then hepatitis B. Because people with hepatitis B have a higher chance of also being HIV positive, her doctor wanted her to be tested for the AIDS virus.
"It came back positive I'll never forget that day," Lisa said. "I started to cry. My whole world literally just fell apart."
She's been test four more times since then. Every time the results were the same: HIV positive.
The news was just as devastating for her family. Lisa, the youngest of five children, had always been the baby, the one everyone took care of, Julie said.
The outlook was bleak. "Back then it was a death sentence," said Julie. "Nobody lived."
The family thinks an early diagnosis may be the main reason Lisa has stayed relatively healthy for so long.
Her HIV has stayed in check for more than 10 years. She didn't even need to start drug therapy until 15 months ago.
Not that it hasn't been a struggle. She's battle depression. She lost a job, and she's lost friends.
She's tried support groups, but most of the groups are geared toward gay men and the few women's groups tend to focus on IV drug users. She doesn't feel she fits in.
She doesn't know if she will ever have a relationship with a man again. "A lot of men aren't accepting of it," she said. "I don't really socialize a lot."
She's sustained by her family and by staying positive.
"I think a lot of it is attitude. I try not to have a lot of negative thoughts. Humor definitely helps," she said. "If I didn't have my family it would be a whole other stress. I can't imagine being without them. They're very loving, very caring, very giving."
Many people with HIV and AIDS are abandoned by their family, but that won't ever happen to Lisa, her sister said.
"We will always be there for her," Julie said.
Julie has been an outspoken advocate on behalf of people with HIV and AIDS. Speaking out is important, she said. "If we aren't free talking about it, people will go on thinking they have to whisper about it. I think we have to talk about it. People don't think it can happen to them, especially in rural areas, and that's so wrong."
It was difficult at first, she admits. "I didn't know how people were going to react. I still have to take a breath before I say it."
She found, though, that friends and her co-workers have been supportive. She's been encouraged to participate in local health fairs and help the Red Cross chapter with the HIV and AIDS education.
Through her work with the Rural AIDS Action Network, she's also trying to build a 12 county network of health care, housing, transportation and other services. "We are looking for people who are AIDS-compassionate," she said. "Our goal is to be able to help people come back home and to find resources for them."
While the public is better-educated about HIV and AIDS than they were 10 years ago, misconceptions still abound, the sisters said.
One especially damaging notion is that with the advent of the new drugs, HIV and AIDS can now be treated effectively.
The new drugs are helping people live longer, but AIDS is still incurable, Julie said. Also many people can't afford to take them or can't tolerate the side effects --and it's not known yet whether protease inhibitors and the other new compounds will remain effective over the long term.
"People are not understanding this is not a cure," Julie said. "People don't think it's life threatening anymore."
For Lisa, the fact that she's HIV-positive seems to have finally found it's place in the fabric of her life. She's still not used to the drug regimen "but I've gotten better with it," she said. "I don't know what my life would be like if I weren't HIV-positive."
"She's so strong," said Julie. "She has a lot of guts. A lot of people quit. She has fought and fought to stay healthy."
