Dear Peter,

Thank you for your e-mail. It's 1 p.m. and after 14 hours, Margaret is 
still sleeping soundly, lying motionless in bed, her eyes closed, her mouth
open, breathing shallowly. I changed her about 24 hrs ago. Yesterday she
had about 8 oz of yogurt, some cheese, some ham and some sliced turkey
for breakfast. For supper she had mashed potatoes and chicken with two
small glasses of Pinot Grigio. In addition she drank during the course
of yesterday perhaps 16 oz. of cranberry juice. Her skin is intact; I
combed her hair.

When I speak to her, she seems to recognize me; but night before last
she thought Klemens was Nathaniel, and asked whether Nathaniel was older
than Klemens. Yesterday, Janet showed her family pictures and when pointing
to your father, asked "Who's this?" received the reply "Jochen".

Margaret's illness is, of course, a catastrophe; but we physicians have
adapted ourselves and learned to make a good living off the ill and dying.
That's a statement of fact, not a criticism. The catastrophe then serves
as a prism which reveals a spectrum of personal traits among us, including 
the Fraunhofer lines. Given Margaret's condition, its unavoidable that I
should feel inadequate and guilty. But taking care of Margaret is my task,
and one which at least in my world, I am unable to delegate, even if I wished.

At least for the time being, to conserve energy, I've stopped answering the
phone; but if you feel it's necessary, send me an e-mail and we'll set up
a time to talk. Meanwhile, I wish that your remaining days in Pocono
will be sunny and pleasant.

Love, Jochen