Thanks again to all for prayers and best wishes. Dr. Johnson stopped in for an hour Friday to view my 21 Charles Becks, hear a couple odes, and compare cognac to calvados. He wants me to go to the Mayo Clinic, where my brother sees a professor of gastroenterology for a precancerous lesion of his own. Here is yesterday's new prayer to Alan. Tim
Pathologist’s Report
We forded Baffinland’s bone-chilling streams
near an inukshuk marked le Cercle Arctique.
Wyoming’s Barnard was our loftiest peak,
I fished trout from Montana’s tarns and streams.
Past our horizon, Anegada Reef,
graveyard of inbound Spanish treasure ships,
grilled lobster buttery on my blistered lips,
decades of sailing never came to grief.
My life already boasts sufficient length,
high adventures in the mountainous West,
serious squalls at sea, a skipper’s test.
Cancer? Alan, look down, lend me your strength.
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