One of the hazards of involuntary movements is getting your hands covered in ink. I was using a marker pen yesterday, and ended up with a big, bright, slash of pink across my arm.

I thought nothing of it – this is a regular occurrence for me. But in the morning I woke to find I had a pink face. I wasn’t blushing or overheating in this scorching weather. No, the ink on my arm had transferred itself to my face.

It’s permanent ink and nothing could shift it:

Not soap
Not scrubbing
Not exfoliating cleanser

Not even the vinegar that my carer Catherina dowsed me in to try and remove my neon glow.

I’ve spent the day sporting my face stain, but I’ve just looked and at last it seems to be fading.

Next time I have ink-covered arms I’ll try a long-sleeved t-shirt as nightwear, or a balaclava!