Is this the new hypochondria? I've torn the medial collateral ligament on my left knee (so says Dr Surliness Incarnate That'll Be $55), and, you will be rightly appalled to hear, I'm mildly chuffed. This is my first ever sporting injury - we're assuming here that tripping down the stairs at the gym constitutes "sport" - and I'm planning to wring from it every drop of athletic street cred that can be wrung from a sore knee by a bespectacled nerdypants inept in the ways of the gymnasium stairwell. Expect casual exposures of my beige support bandage, exaggerated winces, a steely grimace as I haul my withered limb onto streetcar 86.
To my abject horror, Dr Surliness Incarnate didn't prescribe a month of novel-reading and mangoes, but suggested I go back to the gymkhana and pedal my way to health and happiness. Bah.
In other medical news, I appear to be post-wart.