I spent most of the start of the 21st century not worrying about medical stuff. But everything changed when the Fire Nation diabetes attacked.

For various reasons, and I’m going to guess that the ongoing, possibly never-ending COVID situation is high on that list, the primary care physician I’ve been working with since mid-2020 is leaving the clinic I was going to, which means I need to line up a new doctor. You’d think that in the year twenty twenty two I could just go to a website and click a few times to set that sort of thing up, but no, a phone call is still required.

I hate phone calls.

But I sucked it up and made the phone call anyway, because “not dying” is kind of important to me. Yay, I pretended to be an adult!

Hopefully by this time next week I’ll be properly assigned to a physician again and I can keep getting my stay-above-ground medicines.