Reluctantly, I have slipped further and further into a dismal depression. I am two more invasive procedures following the disappointing bust last week of an abdoman tap (parancesis) that both me and the doctors felt would alleviate the growing protrusion of my stomach and the filling of my abdomen with fluids. Hopefully I would have been more comfortable, my shortness of breath and exertion problems lifted. 

This week I will have an iron infusion and also an examination and possible procedure by a urologist, Dr. Chris Walsh, because my bladder no longer empties, leaving a vast accumulation of urine in the bladder. This could cause serious infection and lead to possible surgery to correct.

This morning Dr. Carron’s office called and moved an appointment from late in the month to Thursday. So I have doctor appointments this week for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

In only two weeks, I have had an upper and lower colonoscopy, a blood transfusion, a stomach tap, various blood tests.

I do not look to these procedures with any hope. Only more invasive attempts to “patch up” some serious illnesses that I know will never be cured. Failure to empty the bladder can cause serious infection in the bladder that could require surgery. The problem can be caused by obstruction, requiring catheters, or weakness of the bladder muscles of which I have little information. 

Yesterday was a bad day and I found it more comfortable to spend the day in pajamas, wrapped in a blanket and staring with more reluctance at a television set or the weather which was rainy, dark and gloomy. Carol helped me through such despair, providing me with my medicines, the food I needed and good company.

The president is dark and gloomy, giving negative approaches to every crisis he is facing in his first few days in office. The economy suck and I most pleased that I am not a stock holder in America’s industry. It does not seem to be a good place to be.

The news that is being printed n the newspaper follows the mood. I am reluctant to read a front page story about a woman who has lost three babies due to crib syndrome. She has the weight of a hippopotamus and has been known to sleep with her babies and in the process, crush them or smother them to death as they sleep.

Earlier in the week we read details about the drug death of a 15 year old girl whose body was tossed up on a driveway by a boyfriend’s father. 

Weather forecasters see no end of winter and more than too many times their predictions of foul and ugly weather are correct. We have had snow, much rain, cold and high winds. 

The sports pages reflect the mood. Today the story or a young high school basketball player who plays to sill play for his team even following his grandmother’s sudden death one week and his house burning down the next.

Business Week magazine informs me that I live in the 11^th unhappiest city in America, brought on my continual unemployment and 175 cloudy days. In what few times I can get out, I see only faces marked, as I am sure mine is, with deep furrows. In truth, there are few happy faces out there and today I can only concur with the survey findings. 

 I know that if I have a bad night and cannot sleep, I will sleep most of the next day. I don’t know if this is good or bad. Sleep has a tendency to allow time to pass quickly and without consequence. But it is no way to spend days that I am beginning to feel are numbered somewhere for me.

I read an incredible number of books, probably as many as two or three a week. However, they are popular adventure books with action stories and similar plots. They add little to anyone’s intellectual capacity but when I have noting to read, I am a caged lion.

I can only express disappointment and almost deep resentment to what is offered as reading material in the local newspapers. They insult my intelligence and, I assume, the intelligence of a waning audience of readers. 

My food tastes vary. I have no suggestions as to what to buy at the super market that will change that. Food prices are so high as to make selection difficult. Carol tries hard to bring different menus to the table, but my appetite changes almost daily and I often am not appreciative.

I hear from friends only when I reach out to them with some topic. Or bring them up to date on my health condition. I have had a lot of support from many of my classmates and friends fro outside the city.

My immediate family has little time to send e-mails. At most, a short line of acknowledgement or a one-line greeting. Seldom an exchange of information. I get the impression they are all busy with their own lives and are constantly on the run.   

I only hear indirectly about my grandchildren. Chip and Stacey will call on a regular basis but I have not heard from Beth in several months. She has not forgiven me for some political remarks I made about her candidate. If I send out any political matter, I leave their names on the list.

How do you fight such despair?