The next day, I was having a tight "pain" on the left side of my chest and radiating down my left arm to the fingertips, and generally not feeling well, so I called my primary care physician. The doctor then relayed to the nurse with whom I was speaking not to drive, but to have someone take me to the emergency room of a local hospital asap. While I thought the doctor was being something of an alarmist in making this request, I drove home where my wife met me to take me the rest of the way to the hospital.Upon reaching the emergency room entrance (and with a Mercy Flight helicopter buzzing away overhead), I was immediately guided into a wheelchair and whisked on my way to admissions. I felt a little guilty as I was clearly younger and stronger than the older gentleman who pushed me along, but he was only to be the first of a number people for whom I felt bad they needed to wheel me around or otherwise care for me.
My wife and I felt as though we had won the "Emergency Room Patient Lottery" given the wonderful service I received and the efficient manner in which they moved me through a series of blood tests, x-rays, and a myriad of "scans." Unfortunately I did need to stay the night, as we had arrived too late to have a stress test, and the doctors did not want me to leave without one, so into the observation area I went for the night...
Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!
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