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This from an interview with Fenton Johnson, who wrote _Geography of the Heart_, a memoir that recounts Johnson's life with Larry Rose, his partner who died of AIDS while they were traveling in France: (actually an excerpt from the book, not from the interview): "The tub was larger than the bathroom of my old studio apartment. Larry was too weak to sit or stand on his own, so I sat him in the warm water. I sponged his shrunken hips. The boils that had begun to break out before our departure and that his doctor had dismissed as insignificant were multiplying. I soaked each with a warm cloth until it broke, then drained it onto a clean cloth. "In this gesture I understood in some small way the love that motivates women and men who give their lives to the weak and ill. I understood the shallowness of my fears that I might abandon Larry once he grew sick. Now I wanted only to be with him and to care for him, for in caring for him I was caring for myself. I discovered that I loved even his illness and his dying. How to explain this to someone whole and healthy? I loved his illness and dying because they were a part of him; THERE WAS NO HAVING HIM WITHOUT THESE. It was no longer given to me to have him whole and healthy; very well, I WOULD BE SATISFIED WITH HAVING HIM WEAK AND ILL [emphases mine]." I just found this very moving and hope to have the same kind of strength. I'm not a patient person; I hate nursing; Don hates being dependent in any way. We'll have a lot to work out as we go down the PD road together. Joanne Sandstrom, CG for Don, 58, 22 yrs., sinemet, stim surgery 6/94