In the late '80s there was tremendous poverty in Romania, and there were a tremendous amount of orphans who were sickly. One idea was to give blood transfusions to make them stronger. But there was no means of testing the blood, so they did not know that the HIV virus was present. Through the use of a single syringe for vaccinations, for antibiotics, at the time, the HIV virus was passed along very quickly from one child to another.

I had been a social worker in America and decided to spend a year here. One of my early jobs was sitting with small children while they died, because the staff was so small that there were not enough people to do it. I said, "I can't do this." But it's amazing what you can do when you have to do it. It seemed hopeless when I first came, because the children died very quickly, particularly the ones who came from orphanages. But when we had been given antiretrovirals, suddenly there was hope.

These kids have had all the bad breaks. The fact that they've managed to make it to 25 years old and still be sane--they're incredible young people. Our patients barely make it from month to month. We provide medicines, supplementary food, baby needs, school supplies--just, in general, what people don't have.

When I got to Bucharest, I had no intention of staying longer than a year. But I couldn't leave, because the needs were so intense. I've always, all of my life, had a very strong feeling that we were put here to do something good for other people. I don't know exactly how I ended up here, when I look back on it, or how I've managed to stay this long. But I feel incredibly privileged that I've been able to do so. I lead such an enriched lifestyle that sometimes I even find it incredible.