Every year since 2016, I made a new years resolution to write 500 words a day. Originally I didn’t have many rules aside from the 500 words. Slowly though, they became 500 words no matter what, every single day. Either a Daily SPUF article or a Phoviverse story. And generally closer to 700 words on most days, because passing 500 was never quite enough.
Either way, I did it. I wrote 500 words a day, minimum, every day.
I even managed this throughout 2020.
Granted, 2020 WAS a bit easier than most years. There was more to write about. But I also spent most of 2020 at home, staying inside. After all, I am a high risk person, and frankly I don’t need more excuses to not go outside.
I survived 2020. Mostly. Didn’t get COVID or anything. Thought I’d made it through an otherwise hellish year without a scratch.
I even wrote a chirpy 2021 article, saying hi to the new year. In fact, in my confidence, I wrote it in advance, like I do with most of my articles. After all, the end of the year was days away, I’d be fine, nothing would happen.
Or so I thought.
At 3am on Dec 31st, I felt horrible stabbing pains in my chest. I’d had pain in my arm and shoulder since 9, and some more shoulder pain the day before. The 3am stabbing sensation sent me into a panic and I asked my brother to drive me to the hospital.
Luckily, it didn’t seem to be a heart attack, which is what I feared it was. But the doctors in A&E weren’t sure either so I ended up being transferred to the Cardiology department. I got multiple blood tests, an x-ray, heart scans, the works. They didn’t really find anything aside from elevated blood pressure. But, because of the nature of the pain, they kept me in.
They were planning on keeping me in until Monday, but there was little need. Based on the six blood tests I did, I was mostly fine. The big one, for Troponin, a protein made when your heart is damaged, came out negative. I was given five days worth of painkillers and a prescription for a tiny daily dose of blood pressure tablets.
I started 2021 in hospital.
Really, it could have been worse. I could have had an actual heart attack. I just find it both annoying and amusing how… certain I was. Thankfully, I live in the EU and all of this is covered by the national health service. The whole ordeal will cost me €15.
Also had three COVID-19 tests done. Those were worse than the multiple stab wounds from trying to draw blood. Even worse than the canula I had shoved into my hand. Turns out, my gag reflex is pretty insistent on nearly making me throw up.
But still, what a way to start the new year. Especially when yesterday’s article was so optimistic. I suppose that will teach me for writing articles too far in advance.
Anyway, this is my first 500 words of 2021. A ramble about chest pain and being in hospital. Mostly caused by anxiety. Then published on the 2nd of Jan, as not to ruin the good vibes of the Jan 1st article.