I realised my flare had started last Sunday. The pain was slightly worse, more pronounced, than usual and it was starting to impact on the limited movement I normally experience. Through the week things got progressively worse and during a fifteen minute encounter with the London underground in rush hour, I stood in agony and contemplated my options. These included things like sitting on the floor in the middle of the heaving tube carriage or begging someone for their seat, through to stabbing myself in the eye with a pen or pulling the emergency break lever. The pen option seemed like the option least likely to anger the suited commuters surrounding me, but quite frankly it wasn't very appealing. Needless to say, I didn't do any of the things I contemplated; instead I told myself to breathe through it, and breathe through it I did.