On 7/7/07, I went into the hospital for a heart attack.
OK, calm down, I merely suspected a heart attack. What I got was a pinching sensation in my chest and shortness of breath while washing our Chevy Venture in preparation for selling it. What it was, I still don't know; I had never felt anything like it before.
But my EKGs were normal, my chest X-rays were normal, my blood work was normal--my appetite wasn't normal, but that was, y'know, hospital food.
Yes, I spent the night at the local hospital--slept surprisingly well, in fact, considering I had a heart monitor on and a shunt in my wrist (which, oddly, was never actually attached to an IV). And on Sunday, it took so long to get a discharge that I had spent the whole day in bed, not eating much (hospital food!), and when K picked me up around 4:30 P.M. I actually felt worse than I did when I arrived. Not a good advertisement for the hospital, I suppose.
Anyway, it's nothing to worry about. I wish the whole thing hadn't happened. Failing that, I wish I had the talent to write something slightly more evocative about it.