In which I malinger

I've manged to do something to my foot. Monday I caught my heel in a hole in the pavement, twisted my ankle, and tripped and fell. Everything seemed fine at first, but by Monday night my foot was in tremendous pain, and although the night's sleep seemed to cure it, on Tuesday it started to hurt again after my walk down the hill to the bus stop. So this morning I went to the GP, where the extremely harassed duty doctor told me that I hadn't broken it, which I already knew, and suggested that I wear better shoes and wait for it to mend itself. Hmpf. So now I'm limping around Oxford in a rather undignified way (is it possible to limp in a dignified manner? probably not) and milking this for all the self-pity I can muster. BH suggests that amputation would cure everything.