Oh, dura dear! What can the mater be?

Elizabeth Conrad and the children had eagerly awaited the Mediterranean cruise that would take them to Greece and the Greek Isles. Theodore Conrad had been invited to lecture in Athens and this would mean opportunities to visit the Acropolis, Parthenon and Agora; then traveling to Rhodes to see its Colossus, the Asclepion, a renowned center of healing, and finally Kos, the birthplace of Hippocrates, the father of medicine. They would cruise the Archipelago and perhaps the Adriatic Sea as well. The day of their journey had arrived and their anticipation buoyed even further by the splendor of the cruise ship and its many offerings. They departed on Tuesday, June 10, 1992. Seated in one of the ship’s dining rooms, the Conrads enjoyed a panoramic view of Italy’s coastline as they shared a champagne toast prior to dinner. Elizabeth remarked that it would be good to meet up with their dear friend Dominic in Athens. Dominic Marconi, an endocrinologist in Genoa, had become their close friend during his residency training in the States. Dinner featured a broad array of fine fish and was complemented by the elegant flavors of a vintage port and creamy gorgonzola. Theodore remarked that the mention of his friend’s name brought back a memory of an interesting case Dominic had shared with him whey they last met. Elizabeth smiled and grasped Theodore’s hand. ‘‘Will this be another Conrad Conundra?’’ Theodore nodded. ‘‘And what will it be called?’’ she asked. In a singsong voice he announced, ‘‘Oh, dura dear! What can the mater be?’’ The children burst out laughing at the familiar sounding melody of the nursery. Another voyage into a public health dilemma followed. Sunday afternoon, May 3, 1981, and the skies over Genoa were clear and cobalt blue. Luigi and Carmen