The Volunteer Experience

     Preface:  When I was diagnosed with Cancer I was off work and had spare time to do things I had neglected for years.  Playing chess for fun was one of them.   Like any organized event, having help (even free and bewildered help in some cases...) can make the event a better experience for everyone.  This is my account of my biggest Volunteer Experience in over twenty years.

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The Volunteer Experience

Windsor & Essex County Chess Challenge

            Two years ago I found myself revisiting a favourite but long-neglected pastime, that of playing Chess.   I wandered down to a local Saturday tournament to check out what had changed in the Chess scene since I last played some three decades earlier.  While I did not play in this tournament, I had an opportunity to play a few ‘fun’ games against some of our local stars.  So I played a National Master (I lost) and a young man who was four decades my junior.  Lost that one too.  

While at this venue I met some of the folks who arrange tournaments, and found that Windsor has a thriving chess community.   I also found out that once a year, a city-and-county-wide Chess Challenge is organized that bring together some 80 or so schools. This gives kids from Grade 1 through 8 an opportunity to play in a ‘real’ tournament.   The top players from each grade may go to the Provincial championship, and should they do well there, may compete in the Canadian Youth Chess Championship.   After the CYCC they have an opportunity to go to the World Youth Chess Championship.  In 2011, Windsor sent four players, ten percent of the total Canadian team, to compete in the WYCC held in Brazil.    

            My contribution to this process would be quite modest, but daunting nevertheless:  I would be an Arbiter for the Chess Challenge of 2012.   This year I would volunteer for the honour of overseeing tables of kids bent on destroying their opponent.   Plus I would have to deal with  “Chess Parents”, teachers with their own ideas of how to pair the opponents and ‘n’ people with ‘n+1’ ways to interpret The Rules Of Chess.  It would be fun.  I hoped.

            First off with nearly 80 schools and with no more than 8 kids per grade permitted for each school, things get very complicated very quickly.  Fortunately the Tournament Director (TD) is quite experienced at running tournaments, and more importantly, in not letting his Volunteer Help hinder the process too much.    The CC itself has close to 1500 kids registered over two days.  I would be an Arbiter of one of the rooms assigned to the CC for Tuesday, February 28^th. 

            However the 27^th proved interesting:   one school decided they did not want to play on their previously assigned-and-registered day, but preferred the Tuesday.  A last minute change that had all the Arbiters burning the midnight oil as schedules were changed, room assignments rebalanced and pairings assigned.  Once again the TD had this covered.   I had not even started and I was already overwhelmed!

            Tuesday was a beautiful sunny, almost spring-like day.   I arrived at 8:30 and was soon put to work with the registration process.  Busloads of kids began arriving, and I was slated to have 184 kids in my room.  That’s 184 kids, plus parents, plus teachers,  and fortunately, a Lot More Volunteers!   I would be one of the four or so ‘official’ chess arbiters.  There would also be a number of local High School students who would serve as the official scorekeepers for the various sections for each grade.   Eventually everyone was assigned their official Name Tag which designated their Grade, Section and School, and each was paired for the first round.   Ninety-two pairs of kids shook hands, and round one of eight began.

“The room was eerily quiet, 184 kids with their heads bent over a chess board, fiercely concentrating on subtle strategies, seeking to annihilate their opponent. “ 

I wish.   In reality a Children’s Chess Challenge has a decibel level somewhat above a shout and below a jet engine revving for take off.   In my room that day, there were184 personalities that range from ‘Chess is Cool’ to ‘Hey, a chess tournament, I can get a day out of school!’.  Just to add some zest to this experience, the Arbitration portion of my volunteer role commenced almost from the time the first piece was moved.

            Touch move is the golden rule in ‘official’ chess tournaments.   You touch it you move it:  so long as there is at least one legal move.     Saying “check” is a courtesy, not a requirement.  Absolutely you CANNOT take your opponents king. No how no way, taking the king is NOT checkmate!   So it went.   The rules of chess were blasted, dematerialized, re-assembled into fanciful interpretations.   My role was that of an Arbiter, not a referee.   I was to rule only upon a dispute, i.e. only when someone (a player, not a parent or teacher) complained.   I would spell out the rules of chess, how a piece could move.  I could indicate the legal squares a piece could move to, but I could not suggest any particular move.   Chess Arbitration is the only venue when you can truly say you deal with things en passant (I won’t explain it,  Google it!).   I dealt with kids who would pick up their pieces and thunderously bang them down on the board,   dramatic as any 7 year old could be.

            That’s when I made the discovery that my casual suggestion to the 7 year old God of Thunder/chess wizard to play pianissimo instead of forte  would introduce me to the Chess Parent.  Chess Parents are like Hockey Parents, just without skates.  Every Chess Parent sees the essence of Bobby Fischer within their child….  Humour and coffee were my staples during the day.  Eight rounds with a lunch break of Pizza and Pop for the kids.    And I thought they were energetic in the morning…

            The day went by in a blur.  I ruled about illegal moves and etiquette of chess.  I resolved the case where one young person kept saying ‘checkmate’ after each move (it wasn’t) and I felt for the kids who lost in six moves.   I’m sure there were brilliances I did not see,  though I saw many entertaining games.  And most importantly, everyone seemed to have fun.   Eight rounds, at roughly 25 minutes per round, …did I mention the day went by in a blur?

            By four that afternoon the boards were packed away, medals awarded and the equipment stowed.   I was exhausted.  The TD said it didn’t go too badly, and he still had to do all the final score sheets to give to the schools.   When I arrived at home I would crash and “nap” for four hours.

            There were medals for the kids and pennants for every participant.   Everyone seemed to get something from this event.    What did I get?  Beyond the simple satisfaction of helping out my friend the TD,  I got  to relieve the memories I had forgotten when I first learned about the enigmatic game of Chess.  Even though my volunteer experience took me far outside my comfort zone (184 kids!),  I was made to feel part of a community.   Finally I can look back and say I truly  had fun!

How to celebrate Leap Year

     February has an extra day this year,   resulting from 2012 being divisible by 4 and  not 100.   Even with 29 days,  February is still the shortest month of the year.  Short or not, I was busy with my medical  follow-up procedures.   Just because I am healthy and back to work doesn't mean the Cancer has quit and gone away.

     I had,  in order of appearance:  a Port flush, bloodwork, a visit with my Oncologist and a visit with my Surgeon.   My only cause for anxiety would take place on the 28th of February.  On that day I was a volunteer.  For a Chess Tournament.  With lots of kids.

     First however I started off the month with the routine of Port Flush and B12 shot.   By now the port flush is second nature, I never even feel the needle and the blood returns have been working like clockwork.  The port has remained unused for its original purpose of delivering chemo for well over a year.  During this time I've returned  to work, and resumed much of my old weight.  (a good and bad thing..)

     Bloodwork is a quarterly procedure, tied into my doctor visits.  Every three months I visit the lab at the Cancer Centre, where they draw samples that look for the magic numbers that hopefully spot any potential return of  cancer.  So far my bloodwork  has been just great, my CEA value is <0.5 (non smokers above 3 might be concerned).   I will continue this process of getting my blood checked every three months for another two more years.  Should  I have five years of 'no cancer' I'll be considered a 'survivor' and 'cancer free'.   I have a goal.

      I usually do the blood test a few days in advance of my medical visits, so my doctors will have the results by the time I'm scheduled to visit them.  This time was no different, and  on February 23rd I was once more at the WRCC, filling in my ESAS report.   The ESAS report is done on a touch-screen computer, and starts off with you swiping your Health Card (or in my case, typing the number in, as the card is so old and worn it won't swipe).   A series of questions is presented, asking you to rate your response with a value form 0 (great, perfect) to 9 (horrible, worst).   All my numbers were 0 (best) save the one about 'Anxious'.  I scored it a 1, as I am seeing an Oncologist after all!

     Just before the oncologist sees me however, a nurse takes my weight - I'm 188 pounds now - I've regained most of my pre-cancer weight.  As mentioned before, that's both good and bad.   Once the weight is taken, I'm led to the little room where the doctor will check me over.   My Doctor arrives, and after I hop up on the paper-covered exam couch, the formal part of the check up begins.

    My neck is checked, this is relatively new for me, as I had colon cancer!   Turns out she's interested in the IVPort, and asks if I want to have the port removed soon.   The exam continues in the familiar pattern, the abdomen and  pelvic areas are checked, I'm ticklish but that's about it.  My scars from the surgeries have faded.  It's almost as if this experience has never happened.  She glances at the paper with my test results, and the comments that my blood work is better than hers.  I guess that's a good thing!

    My exam concludes with the news that my Oncologist for the past two years will be handing my case to one of her associates.  I will always be glad for the confidence and hope she brought to my journey.  I'll never forget the first time we met to discuss my course of treatment:  "We're going for a cure".   No guarantees were made, but I had hope and I needed to hear that back when my prospects were bleak.

    One day later I had my follow up with the Surgeon who did my Liver surgery.  I was prepared for this visit:   I brought my computer, MP3 player and an Android tablet.  The wait for this extremely thorough doctor was on the order of two hours.   A ten minute exam culminated with a decision to book another CT,  just routine.   So far I seem to be getting a CT every eight months or so.  Perhaps I will see if they can reduce the frequency before I start resembling the luminescent hands of a 1960's clock.

    By now my routine follow-ups are just that:  routine.  Gone are the trepidations and nervousness of the early days of my struggle.  No more am I defined by what I could not control, but now what I do control.  It's a pretty good feeling,  being confident that there's another day to look forward to.

    Finally the Longest Short Month of the last four years draws to a close, and I find myself in another adventure that fills me with Trepidations and Nervousness:  the volunteer experience,  that of being an amateur chess arbiter for a local chess tournament.  On the horizon I have a CT exam for sometime in April, and if all goes well I can plan to have my IV Port removed.  Closure to Cancer is fast approaching,  I'm glad I'm doing it on my terms.