One of the most beautiful words in the English language is “negative.”

I tested negative for HIV today.

Well, technically, I tested negative sometime between Friday, when my blood was taken, and yesterday, when the results arrived at the doctor’s office. But I found out today.

Hallelujah.

I go through this once a year, just to be sure. Each time, I know it’s incredibly unlikely that the result will be bad, but I still worry.

So I’ve been kind of nervous these last few days.

I get to the point where I start calculating percentages in my head. I usually realize that based on what I’ve done, the possibility of getting HIV is way less than one percent, but that’s not always reassuring. These things are so hard to quantify in one’s head. So I pull out my old percentile dice — I used to be a Dungeons & Dragons dork — and I pick a number between 1 and 100, and I roll the dice over and over. And my number never comes up. That usually makes me feel better. Because if I can’t even hit 1 in 100, the chances are even less that I’d hit 1 in 500, or 1 in 1000, or whatever.

Of course, that’s just dice. There’s no reason to take any more chance in the real world than I have to.

Because when it counts, I really don’t want my number to come up.

But enough of that for now. Right now I can relax.

I’m so relieved.

Hallelujah!