Cancer 108

My chemotherapy treatment was delayed for a week because I had pneumonia. Fortunately, I am better now (if that is the right word) so my treatment will go ahead next week. My bloods are as normal as they can be, my blood pressure is a little high, and my temperature is high normal. I am the picture of health. Tomorrow I am having an Afternoon Tea in Grasmere, which will help my weight issue, well, it will hinder it, but help and hinder are just two sides of the same coin and sometimes you just have to spin it.

I suddenly have several books to read on quantum theory and theoretical physics. I am enjoying them, but thinking that to really understand what is going on I need a better understanding of mathematics, particularly of calculus. This idea that I need to study new subjects to reduce the effects of chemobrain and find new ways of enjoying life could be taking a dangerous turn. While I am reasonably good with fairly complicated statistics and I have an O level in Maths (which was one of my two O levels from school, the other being English Language, the story of the failure of the Comprehensive system may be for another day), advanced calculus may be a little beyond me.

Perhaps as an alternative to Calculus, the topic of Lord Byron came up today, I don’t remember why (chemobrain). I always hated the romantic poets. They put me off poetry for life. I appreciate the war poets (Owen, Sassoon, Baldrick), a bit of Auden, and Betjeman, but mostly when I see poetry I tend to ignore it. If I do read it I generally get bored and move on to better things in life. I don’t know why I can;t connect with most poetry. I love the English language, reading widely, and writing. I have published, roughly, more than a million words in articles and books, and perhaps 50,000 words in this blog (that is a guess. Feel free to add them up and let me know the truth), so I must like the language at some level. I’ll just blame the romantic poets….

I have never been to Byron’s home, Newstead Abbey, partly because my car has always found it difficult to head in the direction of Nottinghamshire, but I must rectify that. I should see Byron’s grave in Hucknall. He is buried near his daughter Ada Lovelace. I must try and read his poetry. I ought to read a biography and find out more about his experiences helping Greece against the Ottoman Empire. I think he was with the gang that tried to think of a good story, which Mary Shelley won with Frankenstein, a good prose story. There is suggestions of mental illness, a daughter (not Ada) born as a result of his liaison with his half-sister, and so on. If anyone can suggest a good biography please do so. It has to be more fun than calculus.