The symbolism of heroic wrestler John Cena – A patient encounter

Granny shouted “Hurry up man!” as I was about to introduce myself. With these words, Simon darted from the room.

“He left his ARVs in the waiting room,” the grandmother explained after the child sprung off of the exam table and sprinted out the door. As she finished the next sentence (in Setswana but likely a reference to how children often forget things), the sound of frantic footsteps grew louder in the hallway until Simon reappeared panting, the medicines held in both hands. His arms were outstretched above his head.

Though it required a double take, I noticed that the pose was identical to that held by a fierce, built man depicted on Simon’s t-shirt. I asked about this man, and Simon explained that muscular man on the shirt was his hero, John Cena. Well, I did not know who John Cena was, but as I looked more closely at the shirt I noticed that the letters WWE were inscribed beneath the image, and, above the man’s head, clasped in both hands, was a large golden belt.

“Simon, who is this guy?”

“He is the WWE wrestling champion,” answered Simon.

Simon is not a sick boy. I mean, yes, he has HIV, but he is healthy. His speedy exam-room-to-lobby-back-to-exam room time alone reflects a level of fitness many only dream of. He does not embody the brawny, enhanced, made-for-TV fitness of Cena, mind you, but rather that of an athletic fifth grader.

After confirming that Simon was doing well and had taken 100% of his medicines (most of my patients meet both of these criteria), I asked him if I could take a look at him. Simon jumped up on the exam table, landing rump-first and loudly. As he thumped down, he said “Powerslam!” Then, with theatrical but seemingly sincere enthusiasm, he opened his mouth wide and tugged vigorously at his shirt to give me a view of his throat and listening access to his chest.

“Powerslam?” I asked.

“It is one of the moves that this wrestling man does,” the Grandmother said. “The kids are all crazy for this John Cena.”

Simon nodded passionately.

As I have discussed in previous posts, health care providers often use a soldier analogy to explain how the body fights off HIV. Medicines, we say, keep the body’s soldier cells (CD4 cells) strong. The soldiers, as long as they stay strong, make the HIV go to sleep. This symbolism works well in Botswana, where the uniformed Botswana Defense Force is almost universally popular among school-aged children, though the Force’s peacetime activities are largely themselves symbolic.

I asked Simon if his wrestling hero had a sleeper hold. He asked me if I was referring to the Sidestep Toehold Sleeper. I told him yes I was.

I told him that, because he liked wrestling so much, his soldiers probably knew that move, and that the medicines would help the soldier cells perfect it.

He loved that.

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If I were to have asked Simon to fill me in on additional John Cena trivia, he would have told me, as Wikipedia did later that night, that Cena was himself in the Armed Forces, and sometime even wears a Marine uniform for his big, televised WWE entrances. If I would have asked Simon about other, non-sleeper moves, he would have told me about the Spin-out Powerbomb, the Jumping Release Fisherman Suplex, the Running Flying Shoulder Block, the Twisting Belly to Belly Side Slam, the Sitout Hip Toss, the Diving Leg Drop Bulldog, and, of course the Powerslam. Actually, to be more exact, the Fireman’s Carry Powerslam.

Imagine a CD4 with those antics in its repertoire.

If pushed for even more Cena trivia, Simon would have told me that, to fire up his countless fans, Cena often shouts the following trademark phrase: “You can’t see me!” after which he performs his theme song “The time is now.”

As a CD4 mascot, Simon’s hero is also mine.