Was it the cheese?
Some things sound better than others pulled. Taffy or a leg or, even perhaps, pork are more inviting, for example, than “the plug,” or, as I found out last night, a pectoral muscle. (Maybe forget the pork.)
I think it happened at the gym. My tendency to rush around goofily is not particularly healthful when applied to weight machines.
I didn’t notice any problem when I was actually on the machines, but about an hour later, an intense pain began in the upper left side of my chest.
The pain was initially met by disbelief. (The words “angina” and “vegetarianism” just didn’t seem to fit.)
Then involuntary tears took over. (Did I mention that the pain was intense?) My protests of vegetarianism were pretty quickly replaced by all the full-fat yogurt I have eaten, the whole (rather than skim) milk that I put in my tea, and the heart attacks suffered by grandfathers.
(Yes, I was macrobiotic for a while and religiously used soy milk, but that was years and year ago.)
Agh.
In the hours of pain (did I mention that it was also kind of unrelenting!? ), I learned several important things: (i) it is hard but not impossible to tap the stopwatch button on an iPhone while also keeping a finger on one’s pulse; (ii) practically nothing in the world short of draining blood loss will induce me to go to a New York City emergency room; (iii) I have a truly wonderful husband; (iv) soy milk really doesn’t taste that bad in tea; (v) if you want to change your life, it is important to take actual concrete steps sooner rather than later.
Thankfully, I am quite a bit better today and am pretty sure that the pain was all muscular.
(What was that about changing my life?)
ManicDDaily 
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