After spending the whole day waiting at the hospital, the pain kept getting worse. After the examination, I came away with a lovely case of tenosynovitis. I'd been writing like crazy for my previous two books, and my wrists and butt had never bothered me at all. I thought I was born with a special talent for writing. Turns out nobody in the real world is special. The doctor advised me to get more rest, but after asking a few questions, I came up with a new plan: tenosynovitis flares up intermittently and unpredictably, so when it isn't acting up, I'll write extra and build up a backlog. When it does flare up, I'll use up the backlog. Once the pain's gone, I'll start the cycle again. The doctor said, "You'll be miserable when you get old."
I said, "What job isn't tough on you? The older you get, the harder it is."
The doctor said, "I'm not."