I just returned from an overnight visit to the hospital

As it turns out, there was nothing wrong with me.

Monday night, I started getting chest pains--dull but persistent. As a veteran of two angioplasties, I thought I'd better be super careful and call 911. I knew I would feel like a perfect jackass if nothing turned out to be wrong, but what kind of a jackass would I feel like if I was wrong and woke up dead this morning?

After an overnight stay in a freezing cold room off the emergency ward, with the lights blazing and a blanket made of paper, I was pronounced fit and came home. I do feel stupid, yes, but overwhelmingly grateful to be home, where I have blankets to keep me warm and access to the 101 beauty products--night cream, moisturizer, conditioner, detangling spray, etc, etc, etc--which I find necessary to use before leaving the house.

I was none the worse for wear, but Mr Charm did not sleep a wink for worrying. He worries easily. I remember when my youngest daughter was in college she would call and pour her woes out on him. This undoubtedly made her feel better, but he would hang up with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She went her way rejoicing, and his whole day was ruined.