Day 127 (Thur, 10th August 2006): It was a painful Thursday morning for me. I couldn't believe that two weeks had passed since my last session with Aunty Polly (the physiotherapist). I tried to fake being asleep, but Papa saw through my ruse. So there I was on the torture table, being tossed around and forced to do countless repetitions of situps, stomach turns and sideway flips. The discomfort seemed to last for an eternity. I tried to tell papa that I wanted out by staring at him with my pouty lips, but he only had a pained expression of encouragement and support on his face in return. It was just as uncomfortable as the first time. I was not happy at all. The only positive outcome was that papa had been as traumatised by the whole session as I was. He is seriously reconsidering the benefits of this exercise. I hope I don't have to go back again.