Dear Peter,

Thank you for your inquiry. It came the moment I was asking myself
whether I should write to you; and if so, whether I should report
my feelings, or "just the facts", pretending that the two are separable.

So far as I know, Margaret slept all night.
This morning she has been sleeping only lightly. Just now she
woke up, moaning. When I asked: How do you feel? she replied: I don't
know. I kissed her and said "I love you?" She asked "Where are we?"
I replied "In Belmont, on School Street, on the third floor of the addition.
She said "Oh, oh." and closed her eyes. 

Yesterday afternoon was difficult. She sobbed intermittently without
apparent cause. She resisted being changed, but then, finally at
about 4 p.m. consented. Afterwards she asked to sit in the rocking
chair. She complained of no pain but continue to sob intermittently.
She drank about 10 oz. of cranberyy juice. She ate about 6 oz. of 
yogurt with fresh strawberries, and two thin slices of turkey, 
ham and Munster cheese, respectively. She wanted nothing more.
Benjamin came and tried to talk to her, but she was not responsive
to him. After he had left, she wanted to go back to bed, still
intermittently tearful. Klemens came about 9 p.m. He and Margaret had
a halting conversation which I did not understand, except when Margaret
turned in my direction and asked  "What is he  being treated for?"
I explained who I was and what I was doing, i.e. taking care of her.
Klemens commented: We are all patients.

That sums it up. I hope and wish that you are happy and well. I sit
by Margaret's bed continually writing. I wish I could do her justice,
but I can't. I feel helpless.

I've resumed answering the telephone, so feel free to call. Just now
it was an old, affectionate patient Mrs. Mastrangelo, who asked, what 
should she do for puffy eye lids? I replied, nothing. She asked, 
how's your wife? I said, very ill. Mrs. Mastrangelo said "I'll pray
for her."  In the background - or is it the foreground, Margaret is 
moaning.

Love, Jochen