FOR a few months last year, I broke the habit of a lifetime and started keeping a diary. I hadn't taken a sudden interest in recording my innermost thoughts, I was conducting a scientific-experiment-cum-book-project. I called it my "Mustn't Grumble" diary; every evening, I noted down all of my minor health woes from that day. Keeping a record confirmed what I had suspected - that I'm constantly slightly ill. Highlights included a cold, a twitchy eyelid that drove me nuts for three days and a terrifying loss of taste and smell. There was also the tedious matter of my chronically sore shoulder and athlete's foot. All in all, I battled dozens of minor ailments.
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