The past few days I've had a mounting health issue, centered around what is most likely problems with my problematic heart. I have an appointment for tomorrow morning. If I don't survive the night, let me break from stereotypes and declare that I regret everything
The appointment was made by calling the medical office's 24-hour number tonight, just a bit ago. Whatever graveyard-shift medical center guy who picked up the phone, I kid you not, he sounded just like
Vandal Cleaver, the blood bank guy from Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines. Most of you, disregard. Anyone who's played that game, you know why that call was one of the most bizarre moments of my life.