The Pope and I have a knee pain. To the Pope, the right; to me the left. I find out about the Supreme Pontiff on the radio, as I walk through the park with a slight limp and smile at this coincidence that unites two people so distant. Then I think that the world must be full of people whose joints ache: French, English, German, Swedes, Finns… Different languages and beliefs, but identical pain.
My knee hurts.
Je mal au genou.
‘My knee hurts’.
I don’t know how to say it Esperanto. I would ask my father, who knew this universal language, but he left us a long time ago. My father believed that Esperanto would triumph, but what has triumphed is knee pain. Sometimes we stop naming things so that things disappear, but things are still there, hurting, hurting. It is not strange that heor that less is named is what does more damage. What is least mentioned is encapsulated in the unconscious, which is a concrete box with pores through which the truth comes out under pressure, translating into bodily discomfort for which there is no known medicine. Is named somatization.
Francisco’s knee problem, however, is wear, old age. If the Pope were to read these lines, he would recommend that he take magnesium, a chemical element with symbol Mg and atomic number 12. Among us, it was made fashionable by Ana María Lajusticia, a 97-year-old scientist who wore a corset of rods for 21 years. She dispensed with it thanks to the ingestion of this element that promoted in his book ‘Magnesium, key to health’, published in 1979 and translated into several languages. The best, from my point of view, is to combine magnesium with collagen, a protein that represents 25% of those available to mammals. I say all this a bit blindly, because I don’t know anything about chemistry or physics, but Ana María Lajusticia’s pills work well for me, perhaps because I believe in them as Pope Francis believes in God. I wonder if God is a placebo.