Abstract
As I walked into the waiting room, I remember being struck by his appearance. Although he was almost exactly my age, I saw an old, tired-looking, white-haired man, his face deeply lined and drawn. I wondered what I had to offer this survivor of torture. Would I be able to help him recover from such a dreadful trauma? How could anyone come to terms with an experience which seemed to threaten some of the most basic human needs?

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