In the 2009 documentary A Dose of Life, co-directed by Aaron Chan and Lulu Gurney, we are invited into the intimate, often invisible world of what it means to live with HIV as a transgender Indigenous woman in Vancouver. It is a film rooted in raw truth and quiet strength, anchored by Lulu’s moving narration and her unapologetic honesty.
Through this powerful short, Lulu does not simply tell her story, she teaches us how to listen, how to understand, and ultimately, how to care. Lulu Gurney, a Two-Spirit Aboriginal woman, speaks directly to the camera in a calm, steady voice that masks the storm of emotions beneath. “I have been HIV positive for three years,” she begins, “going on to my fourth. I have been terrified these past three years.” That fear, silent, unspoken, and isolating, is central to the experience she shares. In candid scenes, she explains the shame she felt upon diagnosis, the overwhelming flood of information she received at the doctor’s office, and the way fear crept into every corner of her life, particularly in something as simple and sacred as human connection. “I’m scared to have any human contact,” she says, “so it’s been quite difficult to try to get over those feelings and fears. Yes, I feel like that every day.”
The documentary’s simplicity, no flashy edits, no scripted drama, allows Lulu’s voice to take center stage. That voice, trembling at times, is not merely telling a personal story. It’s bearing witness to what many in marginalized communities face: the compounding weight of stigma, medical trauma, isolation, and a health care system that is rarely built with them in mind. Lulu recounts the moment she was first introduced to antiretroviral therapy (ARVs). Her doctor warned her that without treatment, her immune system would continue to deteriorate, making her vulnerable to every passing infection. But the decision to start ARVs wasn’t easy. “There were so many side effects that would come along with taking these pills,” she explains. At first, she was prescribed four pills a day, and almost immediately, she experienced nausea, heartburn, abdominal pain, and fatigue. The side effects were so disruptive she could no longer focus on school or work, and even stopped socializing altogether. For a month, she tried to push through. “Traveling on the bus I felt like I was gonna puke on somebody,” she says. “It was so distracting, all the pains that were happening within my body.”
.jpg)
Finally, she returned to her doctor and learned she had likely experienced an allergic reaction to one of the pills, something that only happens in five percent of cases. Of course, she was part of that five percent. Her story did not end there. After stopping ARVs briefly, Lulu’s CD4 count, a measure of immune function, continued to fall. When it dropped to 250, dangerously close to the threshold of AIDS, her doctor convinced her to try a new medication. “I started this new regime,” she says. “There’s a few side effects, but after a week they dissipated and went away.” From that point on, her health slowly improved. “I’ve been taking antiretrovirals for eight months and it’s been working for me,” she says, smiling with quiet pride. “My CD4 counts are rising again, I’m now at 320 from 210. And also, my viral load is undetectable.” With this progress came not just better health, but a brighter outlook: “I just look forward to having an extended life. There’s so much more that I can accomplish now, and it makes me feel happy about myself.”
A Dose of Life is more than a documentary, it is an act of testimony. It stands as a reminder of how Indigenous, transgender, and HIV-positive individuals are often erased from public narratives, or only seen through distorted lenses of stigma and pity. Lulu, however, was not interested in being pitied. She offered her story not to seek sympathy, but to build empathy. She encourages newly diagnosed people to “ask your doctor any questions you can. Find out as much information as you possibly can, because it does help knowing.” Off-screen, Lulu Gurney continued to transform lives through activism, research, and community engagement. At the Centre for Gender & Sexual Health Equity (CGSHE), she played a key role in several community-based research projects focused on social justice, trans health, and improving the lives of people living with HIV. She participated in documentaries, contributed to arts-based research, and never shied away from talking about stigma, even when she was still surviving its weight herself. Lulu was a beloved daughter, who found joy in cooking for her mother and walking the streets of Vancouver with music in her ears.
After a trip to New York City, she dreamed of moving there one day. She brought humor and light to even the heaviest spaces. Colleagues remember her infectious laugh, her quirky wit, and her deep belief that marginalized voices deserved to be centered, not tokenized, but heard and honored. She was more than a storyteller. She was a researcher, an advocate, a friend, and a fighter. And even though she is no longer with us, her legacy continues to ripple outward. Through the SHAWNA Project, the Healing Inner Voices initiative with Drawing Wisdom, and her talk at the CGSHE Speaker Series, Lulu’s voice remains very much alive. To watch A Dose of Life is to remember Lulu not just as someone who lived with HIV, but as someone who lived. Who refused to let fear define her. Who showed what resilience looks like when it’s grounded in truth. And who, in telling her story, helped others find the courage to tell theirs.
Image credits: YouTube
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment