I've been having chest pains over the past few weeks. A sharp, vertical blade of pain whose strength ranged from a barely-noticeable twinge to a slice of near-agony in certain positions.
That the onset coincided with my longer commute and my growing tendency to use the curls on my racing-style bike's handle bars; that it did not seem to correlate
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It's a strange thing, to hang around a hospital, hooked up to an IV, when you don't actually feel bad. But there I was, on the sixth floor of the Toronto General Hospital, awaiting surgery
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