When I wasn't there,I tried to convince them to go more often, but when I was dancing, I wasjust glad that I wasn't being interrupted. It wasn't even ...he dancingthat I enjoyed, it was losing myself to the pounding rhythms that shookmy soul; if I danced, it was only because I couldn't imagine another wayof reacting. People danced with me sometimes. I can't remember who, theywere just tools, a pole to dance on.The rest of the week was muted now, just a pause in the music. Schoolwas irrelevant,. A medical I hadn't seen the point of having because just weeks before DrCampbell had given a clean bill of health following the bladderinfection I'd contracted...Suddenly I was angry. Murderously angry.They'd known for more than a year - and they hadn't said a word.How could they have kept this from me? Did they believe I was too weakto deal with it? Was their opinion of me really that low?What did they think my reaction would be when the truth eventuallytrickled from my crotch? Or had they. More

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