He takes the fourth and final vial of blood and gently pulls the needle from my arm. I sigh in relief as he presses a swab to the pinprick hole and tells me to put pressure on it. I comply with his instruction. After placing the vials in a tray and setting them aside, he walks stiffly to the nearest chair and lowers himself into it, leaning an elbow on the armrest. He looks contemplative for a moment before he begins speaking.

"It was such a long time ago," he says. "I want to ...