I go in with Vivian to console her while she undergoes sedation. The doctor overseeing the procedure walks in, takes one look at me holding her hand beside the bed, and immediately addresses me as the patient's mother. I laugh it off, but he insists on apologizing for it no more than five times both before and after the procedure. I am, evidently, "mature" for my age. That age is thirty-two.
In the waiting room, I pull out my laptop to try and do some work to keep my mind busy. Unfortunately, I completely forgot about the big sticker I put on the back that reads "MILF" ("Mothman I'd Like to Find"). While there are several other stickers depicting the Mothman directly below it (copyright ATLUS), I decide that, perhaps, this is not the best forum for that particular joke.
I get exhausted and decide to go grab some water from the fountain. I pull down my mask and press the button gently, only to discover that the water pressure is so high that the stream shoots out and over the bowl, landing cleanly on the floor below. Upon further inspection, there is a tell-tale spot of discoloration on the otherwise pristine tile.
Vivian takes her time waking up from sedation. When she finally does, the first thing she does is roll over, look me straight in the eye, and tell me that she "got turnt on the shit that killed Michael Jackson." She then asks me for a high-five. This is not the last high-five she will ask for in the coming minutes.
