Date: March 19, 2022 To: nchubrich@gmail.com Subject: Paying a visit to Schroedingers Cat Dear Nikola, a) I look forward to seeing you and to speaking with you. b) Please do not leave to come here until you and I have confirmation from Nathaniel that the kitchen door is open. c) The forwarded message speaks for itself. d) Thank you for planning to come. EJM -------- Forwarded Message -------- Subject: update 202203191230 Date: Sat, 19 Mar 2022 12:29:24 -0400 From: Ernst Meyer To: Klemens Meyer gmail I make mistakes all the time. The calculation of my parents' savings from their practice in Braunschweig was in 20 fold error, since I had applied the 1938 to 2022 inflation factor of about 20, not once but twice. The entirety of their savings, excluding costs of emigration and value of unliquidated life insurance was $435.00 after a discount of 94%. $435 is the sum with which we arrived in 1939. The $435.00 that we brought to the US equals 6% of $7250.00. $7250 in 1938 were equivalent to about $144,561.38 in 2022. This was the sum of my parents' liquid savings after 11 years of medical practice in Braunschweig. The issue of possible error also arises in my description of my present state of health, which one might arguably designate both as "functioning" and as "bedridden but in denial". I spend my nights in 9 to 11 hours of sound sleep, punctuated by a forgotten number of episodes of awakening with pain in the heel of my left foot, which I relieve with an attempted turning onto my left side, an effort in which I persist until the ensuing pain in my hips becomes disconcerting. By that time the pain in my heel has dissipated, and I again roll onto my back. Soon the pain in my heel returns and I again try to turn on my left side. This cycle may repeat a number of times until I fall asleep. Just as my picking up items on the floor with a mechanical grabber is a stunt, and my putting on stockings using a plastic template is a stunt, so is my "walking" to the bathroom supported with my arms on the walker, a stunt. My legs by themselves can no longer support the weight of my body. Each time I shift from sitting in the chair to standing behind the walker, my left leg "gives way". I am most comfortable when I sit in a chair, especially when I am distracted writing with my computer. In the hospital or in a nursing home, I would likely much of the time be confined to a bed, with the rails up to prevent my getting up and falling. In response I would start complaining of the pain which while at home I had been determined to ignore. One would resort to sedatives and narcotics nominally to relieve the pain, but actually to keep me from disturbing the peace. Sedatives and narcotics would sooner or later also conclusively solve my problems. Since I refuse to be institutionalized, I am left to my own devices. I don't know what, if anything, I should try to do next. I'm not even convinced that my description of my condition, even if correct, is of benefit. Arguably the pervasive denial which characterizes our tradition: Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi, Amen., as the instrument of endurance if not of survival, is the best we can do.