Honestly the whole duration of the tower-as-violent-video-game incident counts. You had to fight your way to the house call, it was far from sanitary, and supplies were limited. If an angel hadn't arrived, there's one person who probably still wouldn't be walking to this day.
Lucky lucky you, twice the life span. You're really a friend of mine's brand of nerd (and by you I mean the fictionalized version of your life peeking in like a peeping tom), so I don't know all the gory details. But life is life, it matters.
Short term, I get dumber... and you all start looking like walking talking food selections. Ravi's head once looked SO MUCH like a cartoon ham it wasn't funny. And the moaner and groaner thing you don't come back from, no matter how many brains you eat. Well, long as you eat brains, you have about as many options as anyone else. Mind you some people use that to set up brains as drugs rings for zombies they may or may not have made until they get shut down. But zombies do need to eat somehow. It's not like defiling graves is a great option. I became a Medical Examiner back home. Oh, and a psychic sidekick to a detective. Eat brains, solve murders.