When the black dog bites-bite back

That bloody dog! Just when I think I'm okay, everything is beginning to work out, I'm finally turning the corner after seven years of excruciating hell-bang! Something else happens. And it did, and that's why I haven't been online since the last time I wrote.

Oh, yeah-and I hope everyone had a happy Easter, ate lots of chocolate, bit the head off a chocolate bunny...and I stress "chocolate bunny"! I said that to someone before Easter, and she was clearly horrified. I had to repeat "CHOCOLATE BUNNY"-thinking that people do really hear what they want to hear, just as they remember things the way they want to remember them (even if those things have no relation to reality). Why would I expect anything more? They're idiots.

Well-back to depression. This one was a big one, and I had to sit and get through it-because I know exactly what triggered it. One of the implants might be leaking. And both implants are going to have to come out. More surgery. How delightful. Every time it looks like I'm finally free and clear, something else seems to crop up. And, because the NHS is in such a mess, I have to live with severe pain and wait for a surgery date. What a bugger.

Depression is very insidious. It hits you like a ton of shit with absolutely no warning. I've got a neighbor who had a liver transplant, and is doing very well, but told me that he has suffered with depression for most of his life. I asked him how he deals with it; he said that he just hides, withdraws, stays away from everyone as much as he can. He also takes antidepressants. Not for me, those. And I have spent over a week hiding out, and doing nothing, and I can tell you-it's boring. Just-boring.

Depression is like some people (you probably know quite a few): it sucks the joy out of everything. The world looks grey, people seem nastier than usual, the world news-well, when the dog bites, the best thing to do is ignore the news, it just makes things worse.

So this morning I dragged myself out of bed (practically kicking and screaming) and decided that enough is enough, I've fought very hard to survive, and I am not going to give in to such blackness. I was always positive, always trying to find a way through anything bad that happened (not only to me, but to my friends and family, too), always the person people came to for advice and for a laugh. My jokes might be terrible, but they always helped someone (usually me). These two weeks were tough.

What I find most interesting is that I have been through enough physical trauma, pain and suffering in these few years to enable me to change my perspective. Of course, I will still make fun of the Brits, because they deserve it-and they're idiots, so it's so easy to pick on sitting targets. Hey, I had a belly full of it for enough years that I feel entitled to now answer back. Most of them are too stupid to get it anyway.

My change in perspective concerns disabled people-whether they're physically or mentally disabled. Case in point: a few weeks ago when I witnessed firsthand someone screaming and having a total meltdown on a bus. That was scary-and I could have said something, but I chose to keep my mouth shut. Never argue with people who are clearly mentally unstable-unless you want to risk getting stabbed or beaten severely. And physically disabled people-I've seen people lurching down the road, staggering from side to side. I always thought they were drunk, or on drugs, and how could they do that so early in the morning...but when I first came out of the hospital after the gentamicin disaster, I couldn't walk at all. Then I had a physio who walked outside with me, keeping close in case I fell over (which I did very often. I still have bruises to prove it). I staggered, and lurched, and heard some very nasty (and very loud) comments from the general idiot population, and that was really very hurtful. Now I realize that these guys just might have a condition that causes loss of balance-a condition that has nothing to do with drugs or drink. I find that I am more tolerant.

Nobody really, really knows whether anyone else is suffering (unless they do it at top volume). So I cut people some slack and I keep my mouth shut. Besides-open your mouth here and you could easily end up in the hospital-or the morgue. It's no safer here than anywhere else.

So, that has been my time away, as it were. I looked at my calendar this morning and had the terrible realization that the first four months of this year are nearly gone-in a flash. And in mid-July I have my final assessment over at Queen Square, where I go through all the original balance tests to see how far I have progressed in seven years. So I've got to put my foot down and get moving.

Of course, this could all be rather pointless if that ignorant, self-serving, arrogant warmonger nukes Korea and starts a third world war. Then you can find me hiding under my desk-with a large cup of Starbucks in one hand and a bag of Kettle Chips in the other.

We're here. We brought beer.

Budweiser has arrived-actually, Bud Light has arrived. That is their slogan: we're here. We brought beer. We also had a lot of London's red buses painted an interesting shade of blue to make the point. Personally, with all the microbreweries around, I think that the Budweiser people are very, very brave. And I remember using beer as a hair rinse when I was in college (it was great, and no, I didn't drink it afterwards).

Seeing blue buses-seeing so many buses with advertising plastered all over them (must be hugely expensive)-reminded me of the old Routemaster buses. You can now find them in old movies: double decker, red, no ads on the sides, a conductor (horrors! A conductor!) who had his little ticket machine and who took the money and issued a ticket when you came on board. It was much more romantic then-certainly a lot simpler. Then they discontinued the Routemaster (idiots) and we got all manner of buses to entertain (and frustrate) us. Bring back the Routemaster, I say. And they say: good luck with that. Oh, well. Progress.?

It's been a week of social and political fighting and punchups, and I have finally learned to just keep my head down, keep schtum, avoid discussions with anyone about anything except the weather. That will probably last another week (or maybe a day) and then I'll be back to voicing my opinion. Most of the people in my area don't speak English, so my opinions should be pretty safe.

I'm being bounced out of nearly every clinic-and I've gone from being a professional patient in eight hospitals to being a patient in one. I'm just about (at the end of this month) done with most of the consultants, only to be monitored by a few (very few, thank goodness) either every six months or once a year. I can handle annual visits; it's going to be a question of "how are you? Still alive? Good, see you in a year's time". So I will have lots of time for myself. I'm so used to spending nearly every day at one clinic or another (most of it waiting), I will have to decide what to do next. That is a good thing.

I got very depressed, and very frustrated, knowing that I spent more time in hospital waiting areas than at home. And these last seven years have been tortuous. I nearly quit several times. By "quit" I mean I thought seriously about stopping all the medications, stopping all the hospital visits, selling up and just travelling somewhere, even though I knew that I would be ending my life sooner, rather than later. But I hung on, because I am just too bloody-minded for words. I didn't go through all the pain and suffering to just roll over, quit, wait to die. No, that isn't me at all. So I played the good little patient, went home and punched the pillows a few times (a few million times) in frustration, cried a little, and kept going. I'm glad I did, because I'm coming out the other side. I've got a few glitches, but nothing serious, and I'm really very healthy (finally. For my age, as they have to tell me. Grrr).

I had a small win the other day. I know it's a small one, but hey, a win is a win, no matter what size it is. I held my crutch up and walked about 150 yards, unaided, on a road that had traffic going past me. Did I get dizzy? Once. Did I stop? Nope. Did I fall over? No. That tells me that I am still improving, even though the improvements are so small that I don't notice them. Other people, people I haven't seen in awhile, notice them. That tells me to be positive and to keep going. I might get frustrated and think about giving up, but I only think about it, I don't do it. I think I will put a sign on the wall that says "Never give up". Even after seven years, I must not quit now.

I hope that Bud Light is a huge success in this country. Somebody has to pay for those blue buses (it could be worse. They could be puce).

Brexit, Brexit, who's got the Brexit?

I know, this is a very serious business-but Brexit does sound like a cereal-or a biscuit. Have a cup of tea. Would you like a Brexit with that?

Just about everyone on the planet knows that Article 50 was triggered on Wednesday. Now all the weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth is really being cranked up, and all the remainers (known forever as "remoaners") are doing their best to have Brexit overturned. As if...the whole thing seems a bit silly now. For 44 years, Britain has been part of the EU-and now we are leaving. 44 years-that lasted more than most marriages I know (including my own). Nobody-and I do mean "nobody"-really knows for certain what is going to happen when we finally leave. It's driving people crazy.

The most hated prime ministers in a hundred years (or more)- Tony Blair and David Cameron have surfaced like the rats they are to give everyone their concerted opinion. Nobody wants their opinion, they are the odious creatures who caused Brexit in the first place-Brexit and Britain becoming very close to a third world country. Someone needs to give them both a good slap and tell them to shut up. Even the very rich celebrities -JK Rowling, who doesn't seem to do anything for anyone but herself, and likes to pontificate every chance she gets-and Piers Morgan, who was unceremoniously fired from his newspaper job for falsifying evidence and creating a news story that was a complete fabrication-and someone called Lily Allen, who doesn't seem very bright. They're all out in force, and it doesn't affect them, as far as anyone knows.

Until we actually leave the EU-until there is a strategy in place-people should just button it. And the media idiots are nothing less than inflammatory, causing people (who, let's face it, aren't very bright and believe everything they're told anyway) to panic. No panic! Wait and see, people, wait and see.

My news is more optimistic this week. After six weeks of worrying about motor neurone (bearing in mind that I had the feeling that was not the case anyway, so it was counter-productive to give the possibility more time than it deserved-which was none), I went to the hospital and had all the tests. This was on Wednesday; while the press was stirring up hysteria, I was having needles and electrodes stuck in me. I've got the bruising to prove it. I had to wait a day for the final verdict, but the doctor who did the testing said that he didn't think there was any sign of motor neurone.

I had my immunoglobulin infusions on Thursday, and sprinted (as well as I can sprint, given the circumstances) to neurology to get the final verdict. I had a good talk with the neurologist, who told me that I do not have motor neurone. All that drama, all those sleepless nights-for nothing. He also told me that the pinched ulnar nerve I have in the left elbow is getting worse. This, he said, was from years of sports, doing bicep curls (now banned, sadly), and generally abusing my body. He went on to say that constant bending of my arms, elbows on the table, working at the computer-that is the abuse that causes a pinched nerve. We don't realize how delicate the body really is.

I have to see him again in six months, and if the weakness and pain grow worse in that time, he is going to convince me to have surgery. More surgery-what a thrill!! Keep your arm straight, he said: no holding heavy shopping, no doing weights with that arm, etc, etc. So boring. It's more fun to watch the punchups between politicians.

I'll try acupuncture (my friend thinks that might work), and start searching for more alternatives to surgery to fix this problem-and I'll keep you posted on my progress. I'm determined, since I have come such a long way, to stay healthy without any surgical intervention. Besides-hospitals are filled with sick people.

I'm so happy that I don't have anything that will be ultimately fatal-at least, at the moment. I'm being cautiously optimistic that the light I'm finally seeing at the end of the tunnel isn't a speeding Eurostar.

Now it's time to go to Starbucks, my weekly indulgence (sometimes my daily indulgence). I've decided to avoid (as much as possible) the supposition, the conjecture, the inflammatory opinions feebly disguised as "news", and go for a long walk. I can. I must. I'll do my very best not to get run over.