'서울에 방사능 비가 내리고 있어서 병원이 한가하다'는 엄마의 문자에
가슴 한켠이 왠지 싸-하다. 

조심하셔야 되는데... 우리 엄니 아부지...

PLWHA - an acronym that doesn't immediately set off an alarm or keep you on your toes. Academics and officials, for their love of political-correctness, use this term all the time. You hear it uttered and written in papers, reports, and classroom discussions. I've used it numerous times in my 80-page senior thesis.

PLWHA, or "People Living With HIV/AIDS." Today, I met two of them for the first time. Strange, if you think about it, considering my long passion for global health and AIDS activism. Seeing the two PLWHV show up in my class on HIV/AIDS and speak about their experiences came with a humbling realization of how sheltered my past experiences have been. It also provided a glimpse of the privilege of a medical profession. Years of "studying" about AIDS activism didn't let me walk into the lives of the people I was studying about, but only several months into med school, people living with the life-changing diagnosis -- one that sends "a paralyzing shiver from your scalp down to your toes," according to one of the speakers -- open up to you and expect you to be there for them.

이미 여러번 배운 pathogenesis와 prognosis이지만, HIV/AIDS는 역시 무서운 병이다.
물론 가장 무서운 건 사회적 낙인, 혹은 이에 대한 환자 자신의 두려움.
환자들의 이야기를 들으며 느낀건, Antiretroviral Therapy가 존재하는 오늘날의 post-AIDS사회에서 PLWHA에게 정말 중요한 건 체계적인 상담과 정신적 지원이라는 것.