Drunk's the word, apparently

We went to the fourth annual conference for the Angioma Alliance last weekend, down in DC. Fascinating. About 70 people showed, mixed about evenly between the afflicted like me and their caretakers like Chris. I was, in the whole spectrum, pretty well off. A lot of folks much worse than me, and some who'll never get better. The highlight for me, besides having our choice of surgeons (I did mention that the big mahaff in Phoenix thinks he can cut the landmine out of my head, didn't I?) confirmed by others who'd had great results using him, was when I overheard one of the women noting that her internal sensation was just like being drunk. Hey, me, too, I said. Unfortunately, my doc wants me to stop drinking, so I can only be angioma-drunk now, I guess. Doesn't taste as good as single malt, that's for damn sure...