By John Sanford, Managing Editor for the department of Communications & Public Affairs at the Stanford School of Medicine
I awoke close to midnight. It was the middle of August, in 1992, and the windows were open in the room of the Paris hostel where I was staying. The air was warm and still. My chest felt moist with - sweat? I touched the substance with an index finger and pressed it to my thumb. It felt tacky. Blood!