Worst. Day. Ever.

So the past couple of days, I've been having pain in my chest.

Yes, that's what I was afraid of, too. But I didn't have any other symptoms for heart attack. No shooting pains. No left arm numbness. No dizziness or sweating. Just chest pain, which honestly I thought was either heartburn or a pulled/strained torso muscle.

Today, Steph and I walked to El Tap for lunch. As we were crossing the street, I told her about the pain in my chest, how I thought it was a muscle strain or something. She made a crack about a heart attack. I said, "I don't have any other symptoms." And that was that.

Get back to work after lunch and plop down in the chair. Taxi and I start talking about the Wii and the 360 and other miscellaneous geek nonsense. All of a sudden, I get this headrush, like something warm flowing up from my lower back to my head. My vision swam and I felt lightheaded.

My first thought, given the earlier chest pain conversation, was oh, fuck, I'm having a heart attack. I reacted irrationally. I got up, got my water glass and went for water. I needed to be moving. I'm not taking a heart attack sitting down, and I suppose deep down, I still have the "walk it off" mentality from childhood sports. Get up, walk for a bit, see if it gets better or worse.

Didn't get better. I had another wave. Then I felt clammy and started sweating. I Googled heart attack symptoms and came up with: chest pain, sweating, lightheadedness, dizziness... fuck. Panic hit me.

So I called Steph. Probably should've called 911, but I called Steph. I'm sure that's another denial mechanism. If I don't have to call the ambulance, it's not as serious. But I was scared shitless by then. I just wanted her to come help me, comfort me, whatever. Again, should've called an ambulance.

By the time she got there, I felt worse, and I kept having panic-induced adrenaline rushes, which made me feel even worse. I was shaky, sweaty, clammy and freaked the fuck out.

We got in the car and drove to the hospital, getting stuck behind the slowest motherfucker in the world, of course. Got to the hospital, parked, went inside. Steph explained I was having some chest pain. The chick behind the counter didn't panic, but kept looking me over, as though she expected me to drop right there. I guess probably that is a possibility when someone shows up claiming chest pain.

Took the ER nurse all of 60 seconds to come get me. She took me to a small room, hooked me up to a blood pressure monitor and asked me a bunch of questions. Finished there, she trucked me back to an ER room. They made me shuck my shirt and put on a gown, though they left me the dignity of my pants. Then they hooked me up to the monitor and prepped me for an EKG.

In order to do that, they had to shave patches on my chest, so much like Steve Carrell in 40 y.o. virgin, I now look like a smirking man0lantern. I had 12 patches on me, which were fun getting off later (fuck that). About then, the Doc showed up and asked me the questions. "How long? Does this hurt? Does that hurt? Do you feel nauseous?"

Then they did the EKG, and the doc said the magic words: "This isn't cardiac. His EKG looks perfect."

They took five vials of blood and did a workup. I had to pee in a bottle and they did a urinalysis. After lying there for 45 minutes, the doc came back.

"Everything is normal. You're as healthy as a horse. So I have no idea what caused this. Come back if it happens again. I'll have the nurse come check you out."

... I thought of that clip from the Choke trailer where the nurse says, "Come back and see us," and Sam Rockwell replies, "Isn't that the worst thing someone can say to you in a hospital?"

Yeah, no thanks.

So... much ado about nothing, I suppose. But the scariest day of my life. All I could think was, "I want to see my baby girl." Ugh. I think I'm cleaning up my diet and getting this weight off. That whole situation was the dog's balls. I don't recommend it.

I'm going to bed. Hope the girl sleeps through the night.