Miro Kopčalić tells me he has had a chat with Slobodan Komazec, our doctor. “He says you’ll outlive us all,” laughs Miro. “One never knows about such things,” I calm him down in a quiet voice. Then we laugh together. “Eh,” Miro raises his eyebrows and waves his hand, “Komazec!” But I am worried, I must admit. I like the good doctor, and I like him quite a bit, but I am most suspicious of medicine, his fishy art. How can I possibly reconcile these two sentiments, though?