So whilst I thought that admitting to needing a little help would open the floodgates of the drug cupboard, it would seem not.

I’ve heard countless stories of people being supplied with pills ( for what I’d interpreted as fairly minor reasons ) after a quick chat with their doctor.

A whole week after confessing to being less than stable, I’m hardly any closer to getting any help.
I do see a general doctor, here probably tomorrow morning though.

In the meantime, good old fashioned company and wine seems to have perked me up.
I’ve 2 new friends ( made all by myself, no less ) that have made life more tolerable – massive thanks to Peggy and to Ellis – both very cool people, and thanks to the ever kind Cindy.

Kev, Chris and Caroline arrive tomorrow too, so for a week I’ll have company.
Plus the whole town goes f’ing crazy for the Kentucky Derby horse race festival thing… And everyone dresses as though in a Bad Taste party…

Will my new pink shoes ( no, I’m not kidding – courtesy of Peggy ) clash with the red spokes of my chair wheels?

If they do, then it’ll go down well at the festival.
Ladies Day at Royal Ascot, it’s definitely not…

I am sooo proud of you. Antidepressants have nothing to do with giving in. Depression after trauma is a biochemical imbalance. Your mind is foggy you have trouble concentrating you play the same thoughts around and around the thoughts and feelings do not get better. It’s chemistry and chemistry builds a pattern that rational thought cannot balance. It’s physiologically impossible. You need to feed and stabilize the imbalance. Everyone I know has been on antidepressants at one point in their life. Myself included. Give yourself a break give yourself a chance. This is a major breakthrough. Truly responsible and wise.

( and this writer is no pussy)

I’ve done ( for me ) the unthinkable .. Contacted my doctor and requested a prescription for antidepressants.

I can’t be the Tough Guy and deal with this through the solitude of my own company any longer.

Sunshine and exercise don’t lift my mood to any degree any longer, so I need to do it medically.
I feel like I’ve massively let myself down in succumbing .. But I’m sure people have buckled for ‘lesser reasons ‘ than being alone and paralysed in a none too glamourous hotel room, solitary for spells that are way too long.

The alternatives to giving into this option would make far worse reading.

They’ve cancelled my ‘treatment’ this week, giving me little focus here.

I’ve realised that without the ‘rehab’ stuff, I’ve very little else.

TV , reading.. Still massive concentration issues.. Plenty of scope for a dip in my mood.

Missing the constant distraction of sport.

This evening I watched (on Netflix ) the story of Marco Pantani ‘accidental death of a cyclist’.

It’s the first time since my cycling accident that I’ve been able to watch any cycling at all, without being totally distracted by my own regret.

Like my own far less well known tale, it ends badly.
He decided that taking his own life, alone in a hotel room, was the right thing to do. I can say that I completely understand that way of thinking.

I’ve started doing different gym training here, no weight machines, rather aerobic work outs on arm cycle type machines.
The good news is that my arms are tiring more quickly than my battered lungs, suggesting a bit of a turning point in my ability to breathe.

What do I think about during the pain?
Memories of long Alpine road climbs on my bike… When stopping wasn’t an option, no matter how bad it got.

That’s one of the challenges I face…moving on from my past.

How can I, when it’s what made me?

.. To my devoted brother and friend, Alwyn.

( it’s a big one ).

A massive thank you to Clair, a friend for the last 25 years, who came and spent an all too soon over 28 hours with me.

But it was a great 28 hours.

There are quite a few people that have said ‘ they’ll definitely come and visit’ , far more than have actually come.
What well meaning friends don’t do, is to say that they’ve changed their minds, and aren’t coming after all.
I totally get that delivering disappointing news is far harder than coming out with something positive, but it still is the ‘right’ thing to do, as unrealised hope isn’t good for me.

Last night no less than 650,000 people descended on this city, to see the annual $1million fireworks display.

It was like WW3, only without millions of deaths.

Thank you for taking me ( up onto a rooftop car park no less ) John and Cindy , plus Charlotte and Elouise, and for your lovely company ( just as good as the $1m incendiaries ).

Today, on a lonely Sunday, I’ve spent a long time ‘talking’ ( Internet chat ) to my brave business partner and friend, Sel.

He’s reluctant about being optimistic about his ‘outcome’ until he gets his MRI results in mid May .

Brain tumour / paralysis.. It’s clear that the emotional effects are very similar.
Kindred spirits now more than ever at work, you could say? Thrown closer together through shared misfortune..

He’s a lovely guy, and I truly hope for the best.

It’s good to be in regular contact with one of my long term business partners.
I think both of us realise that in the greater scheme of things, business and work is a few rungs from the top of the importance ladder.

There was an air show here, over the Ohio , featuring the Trojan Horse pilots, led by one Jason ‘Boner’ Griffin.

As repeated over and over again on the tannoy, at about 200 decibels to families with young children.

I’m guessing that’s his nickname and not his much less controversial real name – maybe Jason E. Rex Shaun Griffin?