Entries in Life

Today, I spent most of my time waiting on a server. I couldn't get Ubuntu to install on a Dell Poweredge server. Suse worked fine, though.  (It looks like I might have avoided some of the problem by changing a bios setting from "I2O" to "Mass Storage" but there doesn't seem to be a good reason that Ubuntu wouldn't work where Suse could.)

This meant even more waiting for downloads over a very slow, African satellite connection.  The installation CDs I had for Suse didn't have Java 1.5 and, joy of joys, I couldn't find Java RPMs Suse 10.  So I'm downloading an installer from Sun.  17MB.

Oh, and did I mention that KnowledgeTree needs OpenOffice running in the background?  Another 170Mb download.  (And why is the OpenOffice download finishing before the Java one?)

While I waited, I sympathized with a fellow American suffering from a recurrence of Strep.  She had used up her pennicilin just before we left on the trip.  She was fine when we got here, but then seemed to have a flare-up.

Of course, being used to the American medical system, we didn't realize that you can purchase pennicillin (and most other drugs) over the counter here after talking to the pharmacist/chemist.  Even though my brother and brother-in-law are both pharmicists, I've often wondered what exactly they were supposed to be doing besides complaining about drug-ignorant doctors.  Seems like the Ugandans (and many other countries, for that matter) have the right idea.

Instead of treating doctors like health-gods who are supposed to know everything (when the evidence clearly shows how ignorant many of them are about drugs), it would seem like they could work more closely with the dispensers of the drugs to make sure they get the right drug and dosage to a patient.

In a related note, I had to get an anti-malaria drug, Malarone, for my trip to Uganda.  I knew I was up-to-date on all my other meds since I traveled just south of here a few months ago.  So, instead of going to the Travel Nurse again, I went to my family doctor.  (He had been bugging me to come in anyway when I saw him at church.)  He gave me a perscription for Malarone that the pharmacist was willing to fill, but forgot to put down a dosage.

That's the perfect situation for getting the drugs directly from the pharmacist without requiring the bother of a scrip-writer as the middleman.

Still, it was gratifying to see my doctor.  I hadn't been in for 3 and a half years and, in the meantime, had dropped 30 lbs.

Just before leaving, I dropped my bike off at the shop for a "tune-up".  One thing that I did ask them to do was put new tires on it since I have 1500 miles on those tires and I'm trying to be a little pro-active.

Still, I did fllirt with the idea of packing my bike to Uganda.  I would be the only white cyclist out here.  I did see one black roadie and while there are a fair number of people riding beaters , but Boda Bodas and cars seem to be what most people use for transport (if they aren't using their own two feet).  And believe me, you can see it in the air.

While my next trip to Africa might include some road cycling, I have to improvise this time around for my exercise.  I'm on the 6th floor of the hotel (which makes it the 7th floor since they use European floor numbering).  So I run up and down the stairs several times a day.  Instead of getting a driver to take me back to the hotel (c'mon! I can't be that posh all the time!) I'll walk the mile or so back uphill.

I doubt I'm burning the 1500 calories/day I was at home, but if I can just remember that I don't have to eat EVERYTHING I'll be alright.