I would do as I was told. “Yes, Nurse Craddock,” I said. “Whatever you say, Nurse Craddock.”She gripped me hard, moving her hand with intent. ...��Ejaculate for me, Darren,” she breathed. “Give me that sample!”I would have no trouble doing that, I decided. Somehow the sheer perversity of the double layers of rubber – her gloves and the condom – gave the situation a perverse edge I would never forget. Her other hand was grabbing at my buttock, pulling it to one side. I was hardly paying attention to. Couldn’t pay enough attention to watch TV. Couldn’t write fiction. It was then I started thinking about suicide. You start asking questions. Just how bad am I willing to let it get before I say fuck it? What will living as a cripple cost my family vs living without me? Will my wife love me?I started drawing criteria. One is the ability to read. Reading makes life bearable. Aphasia hadn’t touched my ability to read even though it can so that was a positive. I even considered other modes of. More

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