Like my other support workers, Leftwing Idiot uses my tics as a sort of sonic signal that I’m all right and not having a ‘ticcing fit’.

The other morning I was working in my bedroom and he was in the next room.

‘Are you OK?’ he shouted, ‘I’ve not heard you make any noise for a while.’

He was right. I’d been so deep in concentration that my tics had stopped ticcing.

‘Oh yeah’ I called back, ‘perhaps I’m cured.’ This was followed immediately by, ‘Hedgehog, biscuit.’

So there’s probably some way to go still.