Walked into a scene right of "Angels in America" last night.
This play is so embedded in me that it will never leave me.
30 years in the AIDS epidemic, I saw my first Kaposi's sarcoma last night, uncommon in the age of antiretrovirals - and the scene below flickered in my mind.
In eliciting the "history of present illness," I saw that the patient and his partner were more like Prior and Louis. I was spared the crying, but not the drama of it all.
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