My next doctor visit will go something like this.

Me: Hey, doc. How's it going?

Doc: Pretty good, son...come on in and take a seat. How have you been feeling?

Me: All things considered, alright. Is there any way we can bump up the lithium dose to the dose I was on while I was in the hospital? I want to crank it up from "mildly numbed" to "zombified."

Doc: You  told me that you had trouble steadying your hands to drink a cup of coffee at that doseage.

Me: Well, so be it. It's a tradeoff that I'm willing to make. I guess no more coffee for me.

Doc: I'll see what we can do about that.

Me: Besides, I'm tired of seeing dead bodies hanging from doorways every other time I turn around.*

Doc: It seems like you've seen some traumatic things. Tell me about it.

Me: I will.
For example, the last time I used a public restroom at a gas station, I saw a blood clot in the garbage can large enough that it had its own pulse.

Doc: Wow, that is traumatizing.

Me: By the way, this ADD medicine stopped working for me. Mind if we try something else?

Doc: Sure thing, son.
Sure thing

*The author does not really see dead people. It is a metaphor for brain cooties.