So yes, I spent a few endless hours in the hospital emergency room today. Time stands still there. Seconds stretch out like pizza dough, and no one is laughing. That’s when my brain scans every nook and cranny in search of dopamine. I know there’s some somewhere, because I always save a little for times like this. Then you walk into triage and the drill begins: "Do you... and do you..." while they type away deftly.

I'm not complaining—doctors are terrible writers, so I think it's safe to say we all appreciate getting prescriptions we can actually read. “Take one pill every eight hours” is not the same as “Take eight pills every hour.”

Anyway, today’s doctor was a cheerful one, and I appreciated that she put some anesthetic in my eye. I thanked her by not squeezing her hand during the procedure. I'm a patient patient most of the time and don’t bite, but sometimes, I like to remind these gods of pills that I’m not a frog.