Mary has just come home from work and looks sad. I take her in my arms and ask her how she feels. "What can I tell you, Ed?" she answers. "I'm sad and depressed and angry. I know I am sick and am going to die." And her talk is in this vein. As I hold her I can feel that her body is bloated and unhealthy. I begin to cry and tell her how sorry I am about what is happening to her. She tells me not to cry -- that I am not helping her by crying. She says she needs me to be strong. I can't take this, and I get angry with her. I tell her that I can't always be strong -- that I need to cry to get my anger and sadness out. As soon as I said these things to her, I feel badly that I'm burdening her with my sorrow. I'm not sure how she reacted -- she becomes silent and the dream ends.