Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

Readers, beware. There's an epidemic on this winter, and queuing for a flu jab will do you no good. 'Mental health experts' - nebulous creatures that they are - have been warning that we can expect an increased number of Seasonal Affective Disorder cases in the coming months, SAD being a condition whose incumbents experience bouts of depression when they haven't been exposed to enough bright light.

It would seem there are fears that the rubbish, sunshine-free British summer we have just experienced will lead a higher incidence this winter, because those who experience it haven't received their usual 'respite' of a few months bathed in daylight.

It has to be said that I am very much in sympathy with the SAD contingent, because I HATE WINTER, and no mistaking. In fact, at one point my specialists were exploring the possibility that I might have SAD, until they realised that I hate summer, spring and autumn too.

But I really do dislike winter the most, SAD or not. For a start, you have to wear more layers of clothing in winter than you do in summer. Clothes have always been an access nightmare for me, especially big, thick garments that restrict my movement. Wonderful when you don't have much movement in the first place. This, combined with the delights of yellow snow, icy pavements and slush polluted by exhaust fumes, does wondrous things for my balance. Because walking becomes a no-no, I often end up using a wheelchair, and if you use a wheelchair in the rain you'll know that a little puddle ends up forming in your lap, making it look like you have a major incontinence problem even if you don't.

So if my mood is low in winter, that would be why. I have tried to make it better for myself. I had those sunlight lamps fitted all around my house and even attached one to my head, and had my no-legged friend travel in front of me shining a torch into my face. It didn't lift my mood; in fact, I just fell over more often because the lights made it difficult to see where I was going.

Doctors have recommended that I stay in bed this winter. Last time I tried staying in bed for more than a few hours, it ended in disaster, so I'm not quite sure what to do. My no-legged friend has offered to screw a daylight lamp into my skull, but I suspect I'll remain chronically miserable.