Enough is enough, I decided yesterday. Over a year of trouble with my left knee, trouble which comes and goes like an irregular tide, with occasional visits to the doc who tells me there's nothing wrong...

'There IS something wrong,' I tell him today. 'I can't do my child pose properly, and the camel pose kills more than usual, and I can only do half a sun salute! And LOOK at it! It's fat and knobless! Compare it with the knobbly one!'

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'It's inflamed,' he tells me gently.

'I know it's inflamed. I want to know why. Porque?'

'Well, it's swollen.'

'I know it's swollen...' Have I misunderstood 'porque?' Doesn't it mean 'why'?

Eventually, in rather a roundabout way, via complex drawings of bones and joints, graphs and charts, I understand that well, when you reach a certain age...

The solution? I have to sit on a table twice daily with a kilo bag of flour (well, he said sugar, but I didn't have any - see how good kilos are? One bag is just right, whereas I would have had to measure out 2.2 pounds...), as I was saying, a bag of flour dangling over my ankle, leg straight, up and down, to exercise my quadriceps. And I'm told I must cycle and swim and do my yoga, as long as nothing hurts...

And a few sessions of physio - I had my fisrt today - I was expecting torturous twists and wrenches, but it was just a gentle massage and some laser beamy things.

And tomorrow I get reiki...watch this blog - my reikiist is an amazing woman!