The One Where Patwoman Has Chest Pains And Ends Up In The ER

So about 4:40 on Wednesday--after a pretty good day at work, I must say, and as things were winding down--I got some really massive pains in my chest and back. When I say massive, here's what I mean: Imagine an ogre standing behind you, with a rusty spear. And then the ogre takes that rusty spear and stabs you in the back. And the rusty head of the spear pokes through your chest, almost right through your breastbone. And it makes it really hard to breathe. That kind of pain.

Listen to the state of denial I was in. I looked at the clock, thought "Oh, well it's almost time to go, anyway." And then I washed out my coffee cup and closed all my computer windows and cleared off my desk.

The whole time I'm doing that, my coworkers are saying "Are you okay? You look terrible." Eventually, I decide to leave at 4:55 instead of running out the clock. By this time I am feeling so bad I can barely breathe and apparently looking so bad that two people offered to walk me downstairs.

Now, you know M and I carpool, right? But it just so happened that her car went down and so T had driven us to work that day. So T is waiting in the car with M when I get downstairs. He sees I can barely get the door open and asks if I'm okay.

These are my words: "Now don't freak out or anything..."

So now we're on the way to the ER.

They take chest pains pretty seriously in the ER, btw. They make you sit in a wheelchair, even if you insist you can walk. They slap that beepy thing on you right away. And they make sure you get to show at least ten people your naked breasts.

Seriously. If you are shy, don't have chest pains. Because they put those snappy things and wires on your chest and then they take them off so you can go get your CAT Scan and then they put them back on and take them off again when you have to pee because of all the fluids they've flushed through your IV and put them back on again and take them off when they have to do some other test and put them back on again... You get it? You're flashing your boobs so often you should be getting paid for it.

I know, I know. They don't care. It doesn't embarass them. They've seen it all and worse. That's probably why they don't even both to shut the curtain when they do it. Whatever. It really was the least of my worries. Just kind of funny annoying confusing now.


That CAT scan is weird. They told me the dye they inject in the IV would make me feel like I was peeing my pants. And it did. I wonder if anybody ever pees their pants for real when they do that? Like, "OMG I peed my pants! Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound."

Okay, I won't keep you in suspense any longer. If you've read this whole thing, you deserve to know the ending.

I didn't have a heart attack. My chest pains were caused by pleurisy, which is a fluid buildup between the plueral lining and the lungs. Causes pain, shortness of breath, all that. Feels really effin bad, like a heart attack.

That seemed so crazy to me, that it would be a lung inflammation, because I didn't feel sick. Not like pneumonia sick or any kind of lung sick. But the doctor said I may not feel sick right away. And she was right. Because I felt worse on Thursday.

Now, I can breathe okay today, but I'm getting really tired over the most ridiculous things. Yesterday I finally felt like knitting again and spent 15 minutes looking for some yarn I bought last week. I had to take a nap afterward! WTF?

Anyway, I am taking this weekend off--no work in the store, no laundry, no cleaning--in the hopes that I can go back to work on Monday. Because you know, if there is one thing your friend Patwoman hates, it's having to use sick days for actually being sick.