I’m just a daydreamer…
When I was diagnosed, I assumed I would die quickly. Three people close to me had brain tumours, and they all died quite quickly. I assumed I would, too.
I made all my plans to be ready for the big day, and so I wouldn’t leave my family in a difficult situation. I surrendered my CEO’s chair. I sorted out my finances. I organised my funeral (Dee, the best funeral director in Bristol, reminded me to put together my funeral playlist). I wrote my will. Then I went to sit down by the harbour with my little dog, and we watched the ducks. There didn’t seem to be anything else worth doing.
I wasn’t delighted with my prospects, but I was ready.
After a few months of this, I felt lost and didn’t know what to do next. Luckily for me, I bumped into two lovely Canadians online who had the same diagnosis as me. My diagnosis — gliomatosis cerebri — is quite rare. One in ten million. But one of my new friends, K, had the same diagnosis. My other friend, E, wasn’t quite the same — but close enough — and she had been enjoying her tumour for several years.
E helped us find a way back to normal living, even if we weren’t going to live forever. I went back to writing JavaScript for work and studying philosophy with the Open University. I also went back to visiting the Grain Barge for a regular pint of Butcombe Original, and I had a lovely week in Tenerife with Mrs Clown.
I kept this up for another year until the MRI said my tumour had doubled in size. Six lobes! A few months later, I had a bit too much Prosecco at a party, and the day after that I had my first seizure. After a few more days, I had another, and this one was big enough to take me to the hospital.
Anyway, here I am, after three years of tumour, six months of chemo plus a few more seizures. I am almost at the end of my philosophy degree, and I accidentally retired. What comes next?
My default plan was to sit in my armchair reading Plato and looking out at the harbour for the rest of forever. I am not allowed to drink any more beer, I can’t drive and my habit of having seizures makes it a dodgy prospect to go out on adventures on my own. But I can dream!
My friend E has had a tough time recently, and she decided there was not much point in keeping her savings if she wouldn’t have time to spend them all. Instead, she took her brother and sister on a trip to Scotland to enjoy the Edinburgh Festival and sing along at an Oasis concert.
I’ve had similar dreams pop into my head while I look out at the harbour. I made an Internet Friend here on Substack who moved to a tiny Caribbean island. Why can’t I do that? What about living in Totnes, in Devon, or a little town in Kent? My friend says that Portugal is nice, or even nicer, Madeira.
My latest dream is to go to Oxford for a master’s degree in Ancient Philosophy. Instead of reading Plato in my armchair, I could read him in the Bodleian Library. I wanted to go to Oxford when I was sixteen, but the Navy dragged me away to sea instead. Maybe I could have another try.
I have always dreamed of adventure, and I used to be good at following those dreams. Three careers. Four countries. Thirteen cities. I’ve backpacked around the world, and I‘ll finally get that degree in a few more months. And the dreams keep coming.
But the dreams are harder to follow now. It’s easier to just sit in my armchair. I’ll read some Plato, look out at the harbour and dream some more.
I’m just a daydreamer
I’m walking in the rain
Chasing after rainbows
I may never find again
Want to read some more? Why not subscribe?
I really admire you young man.
Thank you, Robin.
Very well-written piece. Nice pace. Looking backward and forward. Wistful
Just brainstorming here…Is there some way to participate with Oxford? Informal courses? Get the reading lists? In the States, it is possible to audit a class where the student sits in on the lectures, might take a test for fun, but receives no grade or credit, if I remember correctly. Could you audit a class in person and/or online? Is it possible to make an appointment with someone at Oxford to discuss your dream and get feedback or suggestions?
If you dream of rigorous study, then these ideas may not be attractive. Hope I haven’t stirred the pot…
Just always wishing you the best…
The main feature of Oxford (apart from the fact that they are one of best philosophy universities in the world) is that you get lots of one-on-one time with your professors. Hard to review that.
Anyway, I’m sure I would enjoy it there but that’s not the main obstacle. Too many other things get in the way.
Maybe go for the master’s degree in Ancient Philosophy from Oxford when you are done with your current studies. Why not? Reading in the Bodleian Library seems like a good dream…
Hoping the seizures stop…
None of us knows how long we will live. In a sense, the inability to know is hard, but it is also freeing…
5 1/2 years ago, when my cancer returned, I decided to start studying the Talmud, a 7 1/2 year project. It seemed crazy, but I really wanted to. Maybe I will make it to the end. I am NED now, but with some new Kidney problems.
It has been wonderful so far to immerse myself in ancient writings, and meeting other people similarly inclined…
May you realize more of your dreams!
When I was first diagnosed, I didn’t think I’d make it through my degree… but here I am.
My current plan is to finish my next module — Greek and Roman Myth — and then see what dreams still take my fancy in the spring.
I remember you starting with the Talmud. It is special to read ancient writings. They knew so much back then.
I hope you make it through. I hope _we_ make it through.
K
You always amaze me with these blogs. I like reading them, even though some make me sad, I am always inspired.
Day Dreaming is good…. Sending you nothing but the best possible wishes R xx
Thank you so much, Rosa. We found a big box of photos in the basement a few days ago, and we reminisced over the first time we were sad together. So many memories.
Thank you for your wishes. ❤️
Would love to see the photos!
So many mixed emotions ❤️❤️xx
GC assumes a quick death. You, my friend, have been doing some excellent living in the face of that. E has showed us how. I hope you may consider more writing. Much more.
I’m a little jealous of your adventures, K! Death Valley! All that camping!
We’ll make it through somehow.
I have writing a lot more, BTW, on my blog on Substack. I’m writing my memoirs and I am writing some philosophy. But every now and again, the thing in my head wants me to write about it… and here I am!
https://scatteredmemories.substack.com/
Kevin, I love your posts and your dreams. You are an inspiration and proof that everyday is a blessing. Stay the course!
Thank you, Rosemary. You are so very kind.
Kevin,
More power to your elbow, sir, and may you sit and read in the Bodlean Library.