I felt much better this morning, and this afternoon I went swimming with Harry. Harry’s a friend of ours who lives nearby with her boyfriend Ollie.

“Ollie has hair.”

It’s been baking hot in London so we went straight to Hampstead Swimming Ponds, complete with ducks, geese and moorhens.

The water was ink black and freezing. I was terrified because I couldn’t touch the bottom. Concentrating on making rhythmic, controlled movements supported by the water helps me to feel more in control of my body so I love swimming.

While we were resting in the water holding onto a buoyancy aid an elderly woman swam up to us and said, “I wouldn’t want to be your neighbour – you’re so noisy I could hear you from the other side of the water!” I said “Sorry if I was disturbing you,” and explained that I couldn’t control the noises or movements I was making. She didn’t appear to understand despite me trying to describe it in a number of different ways. She swam around us in a circle, looking sceptical. After several minutes of circling she looked at me directly and said “Tourettes Syndrome.” I confirmed that she was correct.

I had a think about previous tics and realised that I’ve already got several on a watery theme:

“Killer whale cock.”

“Rubber ducks at dawn.”

“This fish is reversing.”

“Kayak up my river.”

“Build a swimming pool in your mind.”