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Once David was settled in his new bedroom in my dira, he started to calm down. The PTSD episodes were down to maybe a half a dozen each day. We spent many hours having hot tea together, sitting across from each other at my giant, wooden, diningroom table. I could turn my cellphone into a wireless hotspot, so he surfed on his Macbook while I surfed on my Toshiba Thrive tablet. It was very peaceful. I think he had been with me for two days, and it had been less than two weeks since he tried to cut open his forearms.