I literally cried through the pain yesterday during my physio. Tears streamed down my face as the therapist worked my stubborn shoulder.

"I'm so sorry for the torture," he said as he moved my arm in a most excruciating position.

"It's okay," I sobbed, breathing through the pain. It felt like I was being worked over by Nanny McPhee: there was no sympathy but I knew the pain would be good for me.

When I woke up this morning, I found I had regained more of my range of movement without wincing in pain.

I look forward to more torture.