A Long and Heartwarming Story

It looks now like my computer woes have finally been resolved, at least for the time being, and the way that this all happened is one of those wonderful "small world" stories we all love to hear even if they do sometimes seem to drone on forever. But maybe I should begin at the beginning.

When I was first getting ready to move to Portland last summer, I came here househunting and met a fellow named Steve, who had an apartment to rent. The apartment wasn't right for me, but I really liked Steve - a man about my own age who grew up here in Maine, and has spent much of his life living in the Carribbean aboard a 40' sailboat. It also turned out that Steve had just been diagnosed with cancer, which was a brand-new experience for him; and as we talked it occured to me that fortune had brought us together for some sort of reason, and so we befriended one another -- not really in a strickly "pastoral" sort of way, but just the way a lot more folks ought to when they meet somebody with whom they click and share some common interests. Spent a lovely late-summer day with him at his mother's camp up in Harpswell helping him put away some of his sailing gear for the winter, and generally tried just to hang out a little every few weeks or so...maybe catching a bite to eat or just strolling leisurely around the West End while the weather was still nice. As his medical condition changed these sometimes evolved into hospital visits, and I gradually got to meet some of his other friends and family as well, as they rallied around Steve in his illness. I was always so inspired by the "seaworthy" qualities Steve brought to his situation: his self-reliance, ingenuity, resourcefulness, and optimistic confidence that he could take each new challenge in stride. Or at least that's how it looked to me. Awfully big ocean and an awfully small boat. But Cap' just stays on course and keeps on sailing, no matter how heavy the weather.

Then I got my own diagnosis, and suddenly Steve became a fantastic resource for me as well. He'd just been over the steep part of the learning curve, and knows the territory pretty well. He's even had this exact same treatment I'm undergoing now, with very successful results. Which brings us right up to earlier this week, when I was rustling through some papers my father had just brought me from home looking for Steve's number at nearby Mercy hospital, where he'd been admitted for treatment himself last week. The Maine Med I.T. guys had been in and out of my room all day, without any luck at getting me on-line; but as I was looking through the papers I noticed a new telephone in my room, and started wondering where it had come from and whether maybe I could call out on it rather than wheeling myself all the way back to the bed. Then I heard a voice asking "did Dave leave some phones when he was up here this afternoon?" and glanced up from my papers, recognized a familiar face and realized it was Steve's brother Paul, who works on the Information Technology team here at MMC!

Skipping quickly to the end, Paul had Steve's number with him, took the phone back (which wasn't really connected to anything anyway), and hooked me up with a "loaner" laptop that should get me through to my scheduled discharge next Tuesday. So the blogging at least should become a little easier, even though I'm still reading my e-mail on the Treo (which, for those of you who asked, is simply a fancy cell phone with an integrated Palm Pilot which I bought some years ago now because I was tired of carrying both devices, only to discover that all it really did was make it hard to check my calendar while talking on the phone....)

Today looks to be a quiet day with my family - my father and my brother, plus my former wife and adult stepson (who are here now visiting from the West Coast)...No Radiation, No Physical Therapy, no "procedures" of any sort...just a chance to sit around in the company of people who love me, and recuperate from the hard work of healing....