Triage

The pain was sudden and intense, a band across my chest, taking away my breath. I had been bent over, lifting several books from a lower shelf, and the pain hit as soon as I straightened up. I dropped the books and fell back into my chair, clutching my hand to my chest, just like they do on TV. Heart attack. I was having a heart attack. I was home, alone, having a heart attack.

I grabbed my phone to dial 9-1-1, but then stopped. If this was a heart attack, I should go to the hospital. However, if this was not a heart attack, the paramedics would still want me to go to the hospital. The hospital would want to do tests, and tests cost money. In my mind, I started adding up charges...probably 250.00 for ambulance, a couple of thousand just for entering through the emergency door, EKG, saline drip, that test with the paper and squiggly lines...

Let's just stop for a moment, and re-evaluate the situation. Consider the circumstances. I had been bent over in an awkward position, and the books I was lifting were heavy. I imagine heavy lifting could cause a heart attack, but heavy lifting can cause other things, too, like muscle strain. I felt at the pain, trying to gauge its location. Yes, yes, the pain was focused in the right side, not the left. That's good. I mean, that's good.

The pain was still intense, though, making it hard to breath. I grabbed the phone, but instead of calling 9-1-1, I called my roommate. I told him what happened, how I felt. Are you going to the hospital, he asked? I'm not sure, I replied.

Is the pain on your left or right? Right, I answered. Is it persistent? I thought about it, doing a mental check, and responded affirmatively. Are you having a hard time breathing. Y-e-e-s, I replied, though hesitantly, because by this time the band seemed looser, less urgent. Breath in. Hurt? Breath deeper. Hurt more?

Of course, I said to him, if I were having a heart attack, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation. True, he said. What were you doing, anyway? I told him I was lifting books from a bottom shelf. Well, does it feel like you pulled a muscle? I don't know. It just hurts, hard to breath. Try lifting something, he said.

I picked up Zoë, and felt a twinge, in my right shoulder and chest. I put Zoë down, and it seemed like the pain was less. I picked Zoë up again. Yes, the pain was more intense. Zoë was happy, though.

I think I'll live this time, I told my roommate. That's good, he said. That's good you'll live, this time.

Zoë just purred.

When I go musing all alone  
Thinking of divers things fore-known.  
When I build castles in the air,  
Void of sorrow and void of fear,  
Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet,  
Methinks the time runs very fleet.   
All my joys to this are folly,   
Naught so sweet as melancholy.

When I lie waking all alone,   
Recounting what I have ill done,   
My thoughts on me then tyrannise,   
Fear and sorrow me surprise,   
Whether I tarry still or go,   
Methinks the time moves very slow.   
All my griefs to this are jolly,   
Naught so mad as melancholy.     

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