I've always regarded myself as a resilient sort of chap. Generally, I never worry about my health and I tend to avoid doctors. I had covid a few months ago and shrugged it off. I've had a struggle with my back for many years and have had surgery, which didn't stop the backache but which did stop the searing pain in both legs. But since May 2020 I've been afflicted four times with cellulitis in my legs, one leg at a time, but both legs this last time. I've just finished the most recent course of high-dosage antibiotics, including three days'-worth of intravenous ones. It makes a mess of my lower legs every time and I have to be vigilant in case the infection spreads further, as sepsis is a serious risk. This time, a blood test revealed that my kidney function had nosedived to a critically low level, my kidneys damaged by dehydration, by the infection, by the tablets I've taken for years for back pain, or by one, two or all three of these.

The cellulitis has gone though I'm shedding skin from both legs. My kidneys are rapidly recovering. But I picked up a really bad chest infection in the hospital and this has knocked me for six on top of everything else.

The weather is lovely and I went up the lane with my shears this afternoon to snip the invading brambles that threaten to scratch everybody's cars. That's the only gardening I've done. My garden has gone to pot as I've been out of action for over two weeks. The grass is growing out of the chimney pots!

I can shrug stuff off, but I'm 71 and I've found it very tough this time. I might get the mower out tomorrow and see if I can do a bit at a time.