And I felt ashamed. Shame for being so weak, for needing this help. Shame for being seen so helpless, by my mother, no less. I would rather be dead th...n let her see me suffering all this. Not really, but that thought bounced through my head as I laid there twisting about, trying to avoid the pain. The doctor that came in was young and professional-looking in a way that would not surprise me if I had instead seen him in one of those bars I’m always at. Sort of an urban look, but with a gleam in. The visits would always follow the same format, get a train into London, have a couple of beers in a bar to give me the Dutch courage to go into a gay bar in Soho, a few more beers there and finally to a sauna for some fun.. On one occaision, I just missed a train and had a twenty minute wait at the station for the next one, not a problem as it was a warm summers afternoon, so I just sat and waited. A few minutes went by, and an older guy in his late 60's, came up to me asking what time the. More

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