Google+, it's you're time to shine

I've left Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I refuse to join TikTok. The feeds full of random news and algorithmically targeted nonsense is driving people insane.

I have a FOSStodon (Mastodon) account for keeping up with tech content and people, but to be honest the federated nature of it is great, but something seems to be wide off the mark for me. Maybe it's that people can be in more than one Mastodon instance, and so finding the right person in the right place is tricky.

The one place I loved above all others to communicate with family and circles if friends was Google+. This was an amazing platform, with posts ordered chronologically, and only from people, circles, and communities you were a part of. Todd is exactly what the world is crying out for now, so I implore you, Google. Please bring this back to the world!

We Dared to Dream Part 2

This is the second part of our lockdown baby story. You can find the first half here. This contains graphic descriptions of baby loss.

------------------------------------------------------

We pick up our story after an hour or so has passed. I've given updates to our respective parents, and am sitting in our hospital room in silence, nervously waiting. Finally my wife is returned to the ward, drowsy from the anaesthetic and she sleeps a while whilst I again report to the parents that she's safe and sound.

Our midwife returned to us a while later, and gave us an update that the surgery went well, and the placenta was removed successfully. For now, it's time to rest.

Once my wife wakes properly, we are joined by the midwife again, and we discuss the fate of our little girl. Throughout each pregnancy, we have given nicknames to all our little ones, this one we called "Tarzan", as she always seemed to be swinging around inside my wife's tummy, and our son was a massive fan of the Disney movie at the time. Little did we know just how much of a Tarzan our little one was.

Our little girl, it transpires, had passed away about two weeks prior to our emergency scan, with the twinges in my wife's tummy not being kicks, but a muscular issue which we find out later. Our little girl was born with a true knot in the umbilical cord, and also with the cord tied twice around her body and neck. Our midwife has said that she's not seen such a situation in all her years, and we feel so incredibly unlucky. Everything seemed to be going so well compared to previous pregnancies, and now we can't help but think that our little girl didn't want to join us in this world. It is now late in the day, and we try to process this information whilst we try to get some sleep.

Anyone who has ever been in hospital overnight will know that it is impossible to get a good night's sleep, and this is certainly true in our case. My wife is woken every couple of hours for medication, observations, and toilet trips, as any remaining tissue is passed through the system. This all leads to more tears, and much tiredness.

The next day, we manage to have some breakfast. Our local hospital serves the very best toast, the bread they use is divine, and we eat well. We are given the option of meeting both the hospital chaplain and also our little baby girl. After a while, we decided to do both.

The hospital chaplain is a lovely man, full of compassion and is deeply affected by our loss. He has given us a little cross made from the wood of an olive tree from Jerusalem. I myself am not a religious person, but my wife is and she has found great solice in this small but powerful gesture.

The hospital chaplain and midwives bring our little baby girl in to us, and it is the most heart wrenching and harrowing sight to see. She is such a tiny baby, with hands smaller than my little finger nail, and wearing a tiny knitted hat. The fact that someone has gone to effort of knitting such small items for just this scenario is truly humbling, and we send our thanks to whomever undertakes this act of kindness.

Throughout our marriage, we have always said that we love the name Phoebe for a girl, and when asked what name we have chosen I begin to offer this name, and very quickly get shot down by my wife, who offers the name Olivia. I realise at this moment, that despite the heartbreak of four miscarriages, my wife still has hope in her heart that we will be blessed with a happy and healthy baby girl one day.

October 14th 2020

We fast forward a couple of weeks, and for the second time we are stood outside the local crematorium, nervously awaiting the arrival of Olivia. In 2017 when we attended the cremation of Ava, my wife and I attended alone, not feeling that we could share this moment, but today we are joined by our parents for moral support. 

As our parents head inside, my wife and I are met by the beautifully made, pink wooden coffin, measuring no larger than a shoebox. We follow the pallbearers arm in arm and as we cross the threshold and our parents get their first glimpse of the tiny coffin, we hear their grief filled cries.

The chaplain prepared a beautiful eulogy for us, including some words taken from Captain Corelli's Mandolin, describing how our roots have grown together and we are now one tree, made from the intertwined roots of two trees. This gives us strength. Strength to endure and to survive whatever harsh winds might blow at us.

This strength is ever present in our relationship, we have remained strong thorough the most turbulent of times, and we are able to find humour when there should be none.

Oh my God, I'll never drink (that combination) again...

It's been a few years since I was out on a proper drinking session. Friday 25th Jan was a colleagues leaving do and we went out into town to send him off on a high. 

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I'm not sure that Tapas was the best dinner choice for soaking up the alcohol, but I believe the choice of drinks was likely my downfall.

I had Whisky Sours with dinner, and then afterwards out for Singapore Slings. Both delicious. But the hangover I've just had has been the worst in a long time, resulting in many rounds of sickness, and a total inability to eat anything.

I've had no sympathy from my good lady wife, and frankly I deserve none, it was a very silly thing to do, and I will definitely not be drinking (that combination) ever again.

PSA: Gentlemen and Blokes, please don't miss!

Let it be said straight for the outset, that I'm not perfect. I've never claimed to be, but one thing I think I am is kind, and considerate. I'd like to ask all men, Gentlemen, blokes, guys, however your describe yourselves to please not miss. 

Too many times of late, I've entered the facilities of a public place and been faced with either a toilet cubical or the floor of a urinal absolutely swimming in other men's piss, and frankly I'm getting tired of it. God (if there is one) gave us the tools to be able to direct our waste towards the target, so why do men seem insistent that it should go everywhere but the bowl?

The previous point is probably a moot one, as no matter how good an aim you are, there's always that moment you're not expecting; the split stream, or the "torque steer" you get from an extremely urgent pit stop. These and other reasons could explain an errant water jet, but that they can't explain is why so few people seem capable of cleaning up after themselves. 

My appeal to all men is a simple one. Please don't miss, but if you do, please, please, please clean up after yourselves. I don't want to be cleaning up someone else's wee wee before I, or my son can go to the toilet. 

Rant over.

We Dared to Dream Part 1

The year 2020 marked the occasion of our fourth miscarriage. Between 2017 and 2019 my wife and I fell pregnant, but suffered abject heartbreak as we lost three of our babies at or around the 12-week mark. In 2020, however, amongst the strangest, the most stressful, and the most lonely year I can remember, we decided that we should try again to grow our family. The fertility specialists at Hinchingbrooke Hospital had been helping us verify if there were any obvious issues with conception, and had advised that a daily dose of Aspirin for my wife had shown significant success in assisting babies get past the critical 12-week period, marking the end of the first trimester.

We went for our 12-week scan on 3rd August 2020 full of dread, entirely expecting to once again see the black and white scan of a stationary baby. Our hearts were lifted when we saw not only a baby practically dancing around the screen, but a good strong heartbeat to boot. Could this possibly be our run of bad luck over? Could we dare to dream?

My wife was advised that the scan revealed that her placenta was sitting front and centre, not abnormal in any way, but may make feeling baby kicks difficult. This duly noted we left the hospital more happy than we could have possibly imagined. We managed to get some scan photos, but as baby wouldn't keep still they were all very blurry. "Don't worry Mum, we'll get some better ones for you at either 16 or 20 weeks" we told our respective mothers.

Following the 12-week scan, and given our history, the doctors suggested a further 16-week anomaly scan to ensure that baby was still growing as expected, and to keep a close eye on any other anomalies which may develop. The 16-week scan was booked for 26th August 2020, and as we sat in the hospital tensely waiting for the scan to begin, we wondered what we might see. Certainly baby had been mobile and causing my wife some discomfort with kicks and stretches, surely we would be OK.

Our hearts lifted again when we saw the same baby wriggling around as before. This was beyond our wildest dreams. We'd made it to 16-weeks. Surely the worst part was over. We'd got over the first trimester, and were a month into our second. Yes, we can dare to dream. We began to buy items for baby; a new rocker, a ride on board for our son which can attach to the pram we still have in the garage, we'd also been given a bag of muslin's and baby grows to help get us started. We were advised that at 16-weeks it might be possible to find out the gender of our new little one, unfortunately, our little monkey just wouldn't keep still long enough to get a good image. Disappointing, but never mind, there would be another chance at the 20-week scan.

We have been storing our sons old clothes in the loft for the last few years, hoping to use them again for another baby. We were hoping we'd get to find out our baby's gender so that we could begin either sifting, sorting, and cleaning the boys clothes, or clearing out to make way for girls clothes. The prospect of either started to terrify and excite us in equal measure. Still, only four weeks to wait until we could find out for certain.

The four weeks before the 20-week scan were busy weeks for us all. Our son was starting back at school, and heading into his first year at Primary School, my wife and I were both busy with work, and the week we were scheduled to have our 20-week scan my wife informed me that she had lost her sense of taste and smell. This was an alarm bell and a half, and we set about arranging a C-19 home test. This meant cancelling work arrangements, as well as the hospital appointment whilst we waited for the test results to come through. Luckily they came back fine, and we had our scan appointment re-booked for Tuesday 29th September 2020.

Sunday 27th September
My wife informed me that she had a small amount of spotting. Whilst this is purported to be "normal" at any time in pregnancy according to the midwife, we agreed it would be good to check.

Monday 28th September
After consulting the midwife, she advised that this can be normal, and given there was only a single occurrence, there was probably no need for alarm. If we felt different we were advised to contact the hospital to see if we could make an appointment.

09:00

I received a phone call from my wife to advise that she had contacted the hospital, and was going to head up there now. My wife was not worried, and said that I should carry on with my work day.

11:08

Whilst on a video conference, I receive a phone call from a "Private Number", and my heart sank. I somehow know that this is not normal. I mute my video conference, and answer. In the pit of my stomach a knot forms as the midwife introduces herself and advises that my wife has asked her to call me, and see if I can come up to the hospital. I would like to apologise now to the midwife in question, I can 't remember your name; the call and the subsequent half hour are something of a mystery to me.

11:29

I arrive at Hinchingbrooke Hospital, not fully aware of how I got there. I make my way up to the Labour Ward. I enter the room and find my wife sitting up on the bed, and as our eyes meet, my worst fears are confirmed. This is a look I have seen too many times, and as we hug our hearts break.

I can only liken the feeling to having somebody sitting on my chest. I feel that I can't breathe properly, my brain can't get enough oxygen and so I can't think, there's not enough room for my body to take in any food or water. I just feel flat.

My wife is given the requisite medication, and we are advised to head home and gather some essentials; clothes, wash items, the usual, and head back to the hospital on the 30th September. Hinchingbrooke has a special room for just these occasions which is just away from the main pregnancy ward, and despite being lovely, and having had to visit it before, it is not a place any prospective parent should have to visit.

It is fitted out with a little kitchenette, sofa, a fold down bed, and also can cater for any medical emergency as you'd expect. We have to ready ourselves that my wife is once again going to have to deliver our miscarried child.

September 30th

My wife is given more medication, a gown, pain relief, and a hospital bed. We spend a few hours waiting for the process to begin, and begin it does. My wife is provided with gas and air to help with the pain of her contractions, but nothing seems to help. An anaesthetist provides an epidural to help with the pain, but despite his efforts the pain relief does not seem to reach where it's needed, and my wife becomes increasingly distressed. After what seems like days, our little daughter is born asleep.

In the pain and sadness of the moment, I am aware that the midwives are becoming concerned, and we discover that the placenta is not coming away. It seems fused in place, and the midwives are unable to get it free. A surgeon is called, and my wife is whisked to theatre in a flash, and I am left in the room without a wife, without a daughter, and feeling very very alone. Deep in her heart, my wife knows that things are going wrong, but that she will be back with me very soon. My mind, however, is struggling with the notion that today I may lose not only a daughter, but the love of my life.

WTF is up with Windows Networking?!

Today, in my role as an IT consultant, I was faced with a strange issue at a customer site. The issue manifested as poor internet performance, unresponsive web sites, and MS Outlook failing to connect properly. The fault was eventually traced to a fibre module in their core switch which was causing massive CRC errors on the link.

In order to troubleshoot and finally verify internet performance, we were using a well known online speed test tool to check performance. During the incident, download speeds varied from 50Mbps to 200Mbps on a 1Gbps circuit across all devices, not great. After the fix was applied, we had stable download speeds of ~500-600Mbps on most equipment.

I started getting suspicious that something was amiss when one PC was achieving ~900Mbps download, whilst my customers Surface Book with a docking station was only achieving ~250Mbps, and my Surface Pro 7 was only achieving ~80Mbps with the USB network adapter.

I focussed on my Surface Pro to dig a little deeper, and found that when not connected to the mains power, the Surface running Windows 11 would only achieve 50Mbps over WiFi5, and 80Mbps over Ethernet. When the mains is plugged in, this went to ~180Mbps over WiFi5, and ~500Mbps over Ethernet.

Whilst the power profiles seem to be in play here and adjusting performance based on whether it has mains power I thought I'd try something out. I unplgged the mains and manually set the performance profile to "Best Performance", expecting this to return the performance levels to those seen with the mains connected, however it didn't, we went back to the same levels as before (50Mbps over WiFi5, and 80Mbps over Ethernet).

The final tool in my kit was to boot my Surface using a Linux live USB. I booted up, and connected to WiFi and had download speeds of ~200Mbps, which was an improvement. The biggest shock was when I plugged in the USB Ethernet connection and then had consistent ~900Mbps downloads. The same cable, the same switch, the same hardware.

So, WTF is up with Windows Networking?! Why is there such a discrepency between Windows and Linux? Why does the network speed reduce so much when the power isn't connected?

Clearly there are no answers here, this is more of a rant. I'll keep digging to see if I can find anything else. I fully suspect that not even Microsoft could answer this to a suitable level.

Migraine Pain

My wife has suffered from migraines all her adult life, and it's become easy to spot the pattern of life which brings them on. Stress piles up to the point of breaking, the release through sharing or from tears will ease the stress, and next day she will likely get a migraine. 

I, on the other hand, have only had four migraines in my life. I've yet to figure out a pattern, but this too will likely be stress related. Yesterday marked my fourth migraine and whilst not feeling especially stressed (compared to some work days), I suspect this migraine was the culmination of weeks of stressful, full on, varied workloads, and my poor brain had had enough. 

I've been considering ways to reduce my stress, and generally take better care of my body and mind, and have decided that perhaps Yoga would be a good way to keep both active and relaxed. There are plenty of good articles on the various types of yoga, and there seem to be a myriad choices of sites and apps to access this content.

The issue I'm contending with now is one of time. When would be a good time of day to conduct this exercise? Would my body appreciate doing yoga within a routine? How can I make time with busy workloads, and a customer base which can take me across half the country?

Please leave comments below, is be grateful for any suggestions.