The Goggles, They Do Nothing

I was radioactive man the other day. I wasn't bitten by a radioactive super spider - I was injected with a phosphate marker dye so that a nice gnomish doctor could run a bone scan on my knee. Yes, I seem to have accumulated another injury that just won't go away, and seems to require a procession of medical practitioners, from basic physiotherapists to faith healers, crystal vibration experts and ancient juju curse-lifters. Unfortunately the scan didn't show anything, which is better than it highlighting that I needed to immediately have my leg lopped off at the clavicle, but it leaves me in the dark as to what I'm meant to be doing to get myself better.

I have a wild theory that nothing showed up on the scans because I've been looking after my knee too well, and I really should go and run up and down hills for a few days to really mess it up before doing the scans again. Then at least when the doctors went looking for inflammation and misalignment, they'd bloody well find it.