February 20th 2664

It was ten past four in the morning and Moira was thrashing violently, unaware of where she was and evidently struggling to break free from the clutch of imaginary monsters in her nightmare.

"No, no, go away! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" She was shouting at who-knows-what.

I turned the light on and my wife was bolting upright, crying inconsolably and pointing at things I couldn't see. "No, don't! Keep your claws away! No claws! No claws!" She kept screaming.

"Moira, I'm here. They can't hurt you." I covered her in thicker blanket and waited for her delusions to run its course. This wasn't the first time I found her in her delusional state and yet I was still dumbfounded at what else I could have done except to let the hallucinations went away on their own. Sleep disturbances and other psychiatric issues are natural symptoms that can be expected of someone who has neurodegenerative disease like Huntington's chorea. In the past, Moira's doctors had suggested chemical restraints or mildly sedative medicines, but I couldn't bear to see her sedated— drugs used for sedation could have nasty side effects, such as increased risks of diabetes and stroke, not to mention it could agitate an already groggy patient. The only medication Moira has right now is xenazine tetrabenazine—a prescription medicine used to treat uncontrollable muscle spasms and other involuntary contractions caused by disordered neurons.

Moira finally woke up in a daze, drenched in cold sweats. She was both petrified and drowsy.

"The huge shadow spiders! Where are the huge spiders with sharp nails and sticky webs?"

"There were no spiders, Moira. It's safe here. The scariest part is over." I whispered to calm my delirious wife down. She frantically threw the pillows to the floor and opened all the drawers in the room, seemingly on the lookout for murderous eight-legged creatures. I led her back to bed.

"They were crawling on me!" Moira sniffled. I asked if she wanted something to drink and she followed me into the kitchen, where I made her a cup of hot chocolate and let it cool a bit before giving it to her with a straw—her disease affects her ability to swallow and a straw minimizes the risks of her chocking or having aspiration problems. She finished her chocolate and yawned.

"Go back to sleep. I'll keep guard. I promise there'll be no more spiders." I gave her a hug.

"What if the spiders come for you instead? They're vicious!"

"I know how to fight ferocious spiders. They've got nothing against me. I'm fiercer."

Moira was still terrified so I handed her my rosary and told her to hold onto it. "Nothing can harm you, honey, this rosary has been a source of comfort for me and it might comfort you too."

"What is this string?" Moira wore it like a necklace and rubbed her thumb on one of the beads.

"I keep it in my pocket. You can use it to pray if you like. Prayers can make you feel better."

"How so? What or who are you praying to?"

"I believe you should be free to call upon any holy power you like, but I personally call upon Mother Mary whenever I'm feeling fearful. There were times I abandoned my faith but I think it is human nature to return to whatever gives us solace. You can keep my rosary if you like."

"Is She listening, this Mother you speak of? Should I try to speak with Her too?"

"If you wish to, you can. I believe since She is the Mother of Jesus, whatever you tell Her will eventually be heard by God Himself. There is a simple sentence I repeat often: lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Those spiders that have been terrorizing you, they are evil, right? You can ask to be protected from the spiders."

"Lead me not to the spiders." Moira said sleepily, clutching the rosary tighter and clinging on to me. I smiled as she slumbered on. Whatever spiders she dreamed of should be gone by now.

---

Naoko and LJ came over again to watch Moira while I went to my therapy session with Dr. Torres as scheduled. This week's session was supposed to be the therapist teaching me ways to distract myself from negative thoughts, so I came prepared to hear lectures about being grateful for what I have and remembering how much worse my situation could be or something similar. Instead, Dr. Torres simply put several different objects in front of me: a rubber ball, a bowl of ice cubes, an hourglass timer, and a crossword puzzle. She asked me to pick two items at random.

I picked the bowl of ice cubes and the rubber ball. I wasn't sure how those could help me with depression but I was willing to be open-minded. Dr. Torres asked me to imagine the meanest things I could say about myself and then follow it up with the best apology for saying mean things—the catch was that I had to try to do all that before the ice cubes completely melt. As for the rubber ball, she said if I wanted to I could squeeze it while I did this apologizing exercise.

"I am so hard to want and will utterly be forgotten because in the end people just tolerate me." I said as I stared into the bowl, thinking how nice it would be to have a heart made of ice—if all you've ever known is how to be cold and unfeeling, that means being sad isn't possible for you.

"Not true. There are people who want you in their lives. So, let's hear you apologize to yourself." Dr. Torres' gentle voice brought me back to reality—my heart unfortunately isn't made of ice but maybe it's okay because a heart that can't feel sadness also can't feel much else. I tried to imagine the kindest and most uplifting thing I could say to myself in my darkest hours.

"I want you here and I want you to stay. You are not despicable. You belong here."

Dr. Torres smiled and repeated what I said, telling me that even if right now I don't necessarily mean those words, chanting those words repetitiously could quieten my mind whenever it started to go to a dark place. In fact, any chant could work to make my loud mind a bit quieter.

"You did well in today's session, Mr. Sitohang, and I want you to remember that it's imperative not to ruminate too much on what you hate about yourself and forget what you do like about yourself. You can take the hourglass timer and the crossword puzzle home."

"Thanks, but what do I do with the hourglass? I suppose it would make a nice decoration."

"It would, but I'm giving it to you as a reminder that whenever you start to think negatively about yourself, you need to set a time for yourself to also counter it with positive thoughts. Keep repeating the positive thoughts until all the sand collects at the bottom of the hourglass. By the time the last drop of sand falls, you would probably feel a little better."

"What about the crossword puzzle?"

"It is something fun you can do whenever you start to feel a negative thought forming. Instead of letting that thought linger, try to solve the puzzle. By the time you are done, you wouldn't even remember any negative thought you were having because you'd be so focused on solving the puzzle. That's the trick—a thought is fleeting, you could either hold on to it or let it go."