Dear Cyndy,

I have been thinking of you off and on all day,
and I hope when you awake tomorrow morning and
find this letter, your eye will not feel too 
uncomfortable and you will be able to relax and
gradually recover from your ordeal.

Yesterday I began collecting CME (continuing
medical education) credits preliminary to the
renewal of my medical license which occurs 
every two years on my birthday. The requirement
of 40 hours, which in years past I satisfied by
attending medical meetings, may now be discharged
much more efficiently and pleasantly on the 
Internet, where one is presented with a technical
article about which one must then address a
series of questions. For the correct answers,
depending on the "difficulty" of the problem,
one receives anywhere from 15 to 90 minutes
credit. To make the process interesting and to
combat boredom, I test myself by answering the
questions before reading the articles. Today, I
was able to garner credit for 8.25 hours by
correctly answering questions about 11 "scientific"
papers which I had never looked at. But boasting
about how long it took me would be incriminating,
since to the dunces who design the tests, and to
the bureaucrats who require them, it's not the
understanding, of which they have so little, which
is important, but the leveling of the intellect
for which they express their contempt by insisting
that one size fits all.

Afterwards I worked on my novel, fitfully, but not
entirely without success, and this evening I spent
some time carrying paper bags full of junkmail,
much of which arrived during our absences in Konnarock,
to the sidewalk from where it will be picked up for
recycling tomorrow morning, intermittently thinking
of you and wishing for your recovery. Please give
my best to Ned.

Jochen