Why I wouldn't care if there was a Rapture tomorrow
Got up this morning, had breakfast, went into side bedroom, got dressed, sat down to put on socks, stood up, stab of pain in leg and buckling left knee made me sit down again very suddenly. Persuaded leg to sort of take my weight, gingerly limped downstairs, got brace and tensor bandage from bag, somehow manhandled bike down steps, trundled to walk-in clinic down the street which is closed till Tuesday. Remember second clinic near work, one-leg bike there, wait two hours, see resident doctor who (small world) is my own doctor's sub loc. He doesn't know what it is. Advises getting referral to UofT sports clinic (the ones who told me 'no arthritis' in May '06 when the MRI revealed 'severe arthritis' six months later); advises avoiding stairs; advises losing weight. Advises anti-inflammatories if my stomach will take them.
Google advises rest, ice compression and elevation. Thus my long weekend. Alone, because next door is at the cottage, where I was going too except for my knee.
