“I live in Fostat and the Sultan lives in Cairo (a mile and a half distance)…I must see him (the Sultan) every morning to check on his health… by the time I come back to Fostat, half the day is gone. Under no circumstances do I come earlier. And I am ravenously hungry by then.
When I come home, my foyer is always full of people – Jews and non-Jews…people who love me and people who hate me…, all of whom have been waiting for me to come home… I get off of my donkey, wash my hands, and go out into the hall to see them. I apologize and ask that they should be kind enough to give me a few minutes to eat... Then I go out to heal them...Patients go in and out until nightfall, and sometimes – I swear to you by the Torah – it is two hours into the night before they are all gone. I talk to them and prescribe for them even while lying down on my back from exhaustion. And when night begins, I am so weak, I cannot even talk anymore[ix]…”