After preaching and baptizing a darling little girl, I come home. In carrying out some trash, I suddenly experience pain - PAIN - in my upper chest. It's very intense. I take some 81 mg aspirin and wait - the pain fades.
The afternoon continues; I visit my mother and avoid the Broncos game (why cause myself any further grief?). Then Rita and I go out to dinner at Red Lobster. In the middle of the grilled platter (stuffed flounder, shrimp and marshmallows - oops, actually scallops), the pain returns. We quickly put the remaining seafood in boxes, pay the bill, and head for Lutheran's ER. After several EKG's, heart scans, sonograms, BP and temperature measurements, blood tests, and a night in the hospital... the diagnosis is: strained muscle. Better than any heart problem, after all, so I'm dismissed and able to head home.
Poor Rita, and all she has to put up with.
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