ABSTRACT
I had thought as I entered medical school that I might become a pediatrician until I realized that, while I liked children, I did not like sick children. Maybe this explained my discomfort when several of my patients who were infected with HIV brought their children with them to their clinic visits. As I spoke with my patients, I would repeatedly notice out of the corner of my eye their daughters playing joyfully in another corner of the room, running, falling, laughing, and sometimes crying. The hardest question seemed to be asking the mother whether the child was infected as well. I was never sure that I wanted to know the answer.
