Light Support

All his options for treating his seasonal affective disorder (SAD) had been exhausted. The winter of 2004 seemed insurmountable.

“You should come with me,” Seddita Bonnen called to her husband from the foyer.

“That’s alright. You go on ahead of me,” Danin Bonnen replied.

His wife had been studying dozens of medical journal articles, and comparing reams of data, and had finally discovered a treatment she thought would work. She was heading out to investigate it further.

“What does it entail, Doctor?” Seddita asked.

“We’re going to have him sit in a room with a green light, which should improve his SAD. It’s non-invasive, and the light itself is nothing to worry about. It triggers portions of his brain to activate chemicals that will alleviate his anxiety,” Dr. Handela Deion replied.

“Is this something he will have to do every day?”

“Yes, that is until his depression lifts,” said.

Seddita smiled hopefully. “Thank you Doctor.”

“Absolutely, you can take this device which will modulate the exposure of the green light.”

Seddita inquired, “Why is it green?”

“We’ve seen greater benefit with green light rather than other hues; it seems to encourage the patient to visualize forward progression, growth, and even financial success.”

“That makes sense,” Seddita replied, nodding. After she left the DelaWhole Hospital in Newark, Delaware, she stopped at the traffic light. The light turned green, and she found herself staring for a second too long, remembering what the doctor had said about green light. The driver behind her honked. Startled a bit, she chuckled as she pulled away from the intersection, and continued her drive to her beautiful home in the suburbs.

When she arrived, she called out to her husband with excitement. “Danin, I’ve got something for you!”

“Danin?”

She listened for an answer, but there was none. Where could he be, she wondered? She headed to the second floor calling “Danin” one more time, but there was still no answer. “This isn’t right,” she thought, as she began taking steps two at a time. By the time she arrived in their bedroom, she was running. She didn’t find him there, but the sense of dread washing over her seemed to push her towards the shore. There, slumped against the wall, with a belt wrapped tightly around his neck, she found her husband.

As the paramedics loaded Danin’s body into the Medical Examiner’s van, Seddita fought back tears. She told the police everything she knew, about his struggles with SAD, her quest to help him, her trip to get the green light device, and finding him hanging in the closet.

The next day, she returned to Dr. Deion’s office.

“I’m aware of what happened to you,” the doctor said. “There’s no closure and no way to say I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yes. Thank you. I’ve got to make arrangements and call his family down in Dewey Beach. I feel suddenly untethered to reality; I just can’t believe he’s gone. I’m thinking of using the green light device myself now. I just have a headache from the stress.”

“You absolutely should. In fact, if you are experiencing migraines, I would highly recommend you use it, especially under these dire circumstances.”

“Thank you Doctor. I only wish I’d found out about this device sooner.”

“I understand, but you did the best you could. You are strong, and you will get through this.”

When she got home, Saddita entered the room where she’d left the green light device. She went up to the room with the light device. She removed it from the box, read the instructions, and plugged it into the wall. It featured no off switch, just a button she pressed and held for three seconds, and the green glow filled the room like verdant luminescence. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pressed her face against the screen, which looked smoother and warmer than a traditional television set.

The green light pulsated as she sobbed and laughed at the same time. Seddita rubbed the box’s rounded edges. Its design made it seem comforting and warm, like an actual friend.

The trauma seemed to ease as the tears pouring from her eyes were replaced by the laughter brought on by fond memories.

After the funeral, Seddita held the repast at her house. Bonnen had a much bigger family than she had, so most of those who came to pay their last respects here from his side. She shook hands, kissed, hugged and entertained,“If there’s anything I can do….” which became a constant refrain that evening. Once Bonnen had a much bigger family than she had, so most of those who came to pay their last respects here from his side. had left, she looked up at the ceiling. She raced upstairs and fell to the floor where the light support device remained. She plugged it in again and the green luminosity filled the room. She clutched it closer to her. She noted it would just continue to cast light as long as it was plugged into the wall. She pulled the plug out of the socket, and walked down the hallway, and down the stairs, clutching it like an infant.

In the family room, she plugged it in again. Still no glow. She pressed the on button. No glow. She pressed the button multiple times, to no avail. Her hands ran all over the machine, trying to find some way to switch it on again. She unplugged it again, and darted up the stairs. This time, she held it like a football player, running the gauntlet. The device fell from her grasp.

She watched it tumble and smash as shards of glass spread like little stars along the wooden stairs.

“Goddamnit!” Seddita cleaned up the mess, placed the shattered device back in its box, and brought it back to Doctor Deion.

“It’s alright, Saddita. Your insurance covers things like this. We can even replace the broken one with an all new one without any additional cost. How does that sound?”

Saddita smiled with gratitude. She took home the new device and plugged it in. The green glow warmed her. Relieved, she cozied up to the soft green screen, and fell asleep.