The Chemo Chronicles - Part VI

     The summer has been hot and humid, typical for this part of Canada this time of year.  The air-conditioned Cancer Clinic provides relief for that as well.   July 23rd is the sixth, and supposedly my last of the "original six" chemotherapy sessions.  By now I am familiar with the process -bloodwork the day before, early-morning pills for the nausea prior to the chemo, registration at the Cancer Centre. Then the chemo itself.  Today's session started off with me asking about my bloodwork. Up until this time I've been told 'It's OK'.  Today I was shown the actual numbers.  For those interested, we have:

 WBC       5.6

 HGB       132

 Platelet  162

 Creatine  66

and my Blood pressure this time was 129/80

Apparently these are good numbers.  If it wasn't for Cancer I'd probably be considered healthy!   A bright sunny day, full of promise and hope.  My last chemo session was going to go off without a hitch, right?

     Turns out there was  a hitch.  In the midst of a high-tech medical centre I couldn't get onto the internet!  There I was with my trusty linux-based netbook (Acer Aspire One) seeing 4 bars of wifi signal, and getting nowhere.  The medical staff were not aware of any technical problems that morning, but kindly called the hospital's IT helpdesk.

     Now I've done a few decades of IT support in my career, and most problems reduce down to 'Cables  & Connections'.  Or a darn good power cycle.  I didn't expect a no-internet-connectivity issue to be a huge deal, so imagine my surprise when I saw not one but three IT support folks making their way towards me.  I could tell they were  IT support because they were younger than me and were not wearing hospital scrubs.   As they approached they asked if I was the one who couldn't get on the internet.  Being as there were only a handful of folks in the room, and I was the only with a computer on my lap, I acknowledged my predicament and  suggested that they power-cycle the WAP as I was not getting an IP address.

     "Have you got the right password" I was asked.  No, I don't have an IP address, so no web page can be displayed, ergo no password prompting.

     "Have you tried another access point?" was the follow-up question in true Helpdesk troubleshooting style.  I looked at the length of plastic tubing running from my chest to the pump on my IV pole, replete with numerous bags of various liquids. Then I looked at the questioner.  Then I looked again at the length of plastic tubing running from my chest to the pump on my IV pole, replete with numerous bags of various liquids.  Then again at the questioner.  "Ummm, no" was my cautious reply.

     "Mind if we borrow your laptop?"  How could I refuse?  Clearly these three IT folks were taking a real interest in my situation. Plus they didn't think to bring a laptop with them.  With three of them on the case (and my laptop) this wouldn't take long.

     Time passes.  My IV's are being changed, I get my shots. No sign of those IT helpdesk guys or my netbook.  More time passes, my chemo session is near to finishing when a new person bearing my netbook shows up.  Turns out the IT manager wanted to meet the patient who runs linux!  I was briefly tempted to change my 'chemo bear' to a 'chemo penguin' but didn't want to upset Linus Torvalds.   The IT support folks managed to fix whatever the problem was and I was now able to surf the internet.  However my chemo session for that day was nearly done.  At least I could say I was entertained!

      My remaining weekend consisted of me napping, with  visits from  good friends bringing gifts.  One family brought over homemade bread (still warm!) while my old university roommate (the one with the cheesy moustache ) brough a computer kit for me to assemble.  The kit consisted of parts of a computer that used to work. Some assembly required.  It now runs yet another linux distribution and more virtual machines.  Being a geek is cool.

      What is even cooler is that I made it through the first six chemotherapy sessions, as planned.  I was lucky in that the side effects of the treatments did not incapacitate me to the same degree as others less fortunate.  I have been extremely fortunate to have had a great medical team working for me.  That team  would continue to work with me through the fall.  I would meet with the surgeon who would perform my liver surgery.  I would  have an extra chemo session while waiting for the surgery opportunity.  I would have time to enjoy the waning of Summer and experience the beginnings of a glorious Fall.  I would have hope to sustain me.