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Personal Experience

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Milan

Milan
Language: English
Country: Slovakia
Typology: patients and relatives
Text:
1.1 Description of the client by himself I am Roman and I am 27 years old. It was raining during that holiday evening and behind windows of a mall it started to darken. I took my mom’s shopping bags into her car, we have been shopping at this place for years. Shops were overcrowded which was usual because it was Friday. I went to a restaurant for a snack. My mom returned to shops alone because I did not feel well in there. The one who will finish first, will call and then we meet again. Dinner will be finished before 8. When I came to the toilet I was waiting for a while until a pissoir was free. I stand by it and there was a little football goal with a ball hung on a bit of a silon thread. I felt kind of weird but I tried it: before I finished I scored four times. There was a bustle behind me but it is not anything surprising at a public toilet. I barely noticed two men behind me but it changed in the moment when I felt a knife on my neck and someone twisted my arm behind my back. I could smell that it was a homeless man and by corner of my eye I saw another one who held the door so it could not be opened. He said to me: “Shut up or I will kill you!” and I did not even try to resist him. Actually, for a while, I thought it was a joke. The second one kicked me into my leg and they dragged me into a cabin. They hit my head at the tiles and locked the cabin. It lasted 16 minutes until they finished. They strangled me, kicked me, hit me and humiliated me every time I tried to resist. During those 16 minutes a few people came to the toilet but they did not see anything. Every time somebody came in, the homeless men were quiet. Then they run away. My mother called but I was not able to answer the phone so she called again. In two minutes she came to the toilet. She spoke to me but I did not move. I looked closely at my face in the mirror and washed my hand in the attempt to wash off the smell of them. At a collar of my white shirt there was a bloody mark. My mom could not say a word. She tried to touch me but I avoided her touch. She did not try to touch me again. 1.2 Experience of the client with the service I went to a hospital few days after it happened. My mom forced me to go but we did not say the truth. I had an infection, disgusting inflammation in buttocks. It itched and hurt so much that I could not sleep. I am still bleeding. When I was sleeping I woke up in the middle of the night with my pillow wet from tears, but I never cried when I was awake. Nurses looked strangely at me and whispered around me, I know what they think. They think I am gay, what else could they think. I never thought of touching a man and now I look as a gay. I do not want to see myself. I have two roommates, both of them are men. Any of them looks at me and they do not even talk to me. And then the doctor. Yesterday during his visit he was joking that in a few days I will be able to use my buttocks as before. Everybody laughed. I almost died of shame. I hate those bastards, they take on white coats and think of themselves as of some superior people. I hate everybody and everything. Everybody looks at me as if I was a showpiece in a zoo and everybody pretends that nothing is happening. But it is. It did happen. The strange fact is that sometimes I do not know why I am here. How did it happen that I have the infection? I just have blackout. I do not want to look in anybody’s eyes.


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