'Is it call for an ambulance?' asks a lone voice at the back.
10 out of 10 - tick!
So a few minutes later my friend and colleague, Sarah, was driving me down to the local walk-in medical centre.
I was still snuffling a bit because I was still a teensy bit frightened that I was having a heart attack. Mainly though I thought I wasn't having a heart attack and that I had over-reacted to a minor twinge.
I conveyed this thought to Sarah. Because we share our hypochondria and are both aware that sometimes we may be more concerned than is strictly necessary, she was quite sympathetic.
'Shall we just go for a KFC instead?'
Before going on to say, 'Do you still feel any pain?'
'I feel like I'm being a pain,' I said. 'And a little bit like everybody is going to think I'm an idiot. But other than that, yes, maybe still some pain.'
'Then let's go down the doctor's,' she said. 'We can always get a KFC afterwards.'
At the surgery, I explained what had happened to the receptionist. Sarah and I were in our work uniforms and looked like medical professionals so I think the mutters of annoyance that I was fairly rapidly rushed through to see a doctor must have been due to the massive queue of people thinking there was a bit of bloody favouritism going on.
I explained to the doctor what had happened and that I was feeling better now and maybe I should just go back to work. The doctor examined me and asked a few questions and then, probably fairly happy that I was just a timewaster who hadn't had a heart attack sent me down to the local accident and emergency department.
The local A&E has a pay and display car park. I confessed to Sarah that I had no change and she stumped up the cash for parking and then wandered over to reception. As we were doing this I realised that I didn't have my phone with me because I was in my uniform and wished that I could let Denise know what was going on. Probably somebody at work would have tried to phone her.
At the reception we presented the referral note that the doctor at the walk-in had given me. I had hoped that this was like a magical 'Get out of Jail free' card that would get me seen quickly. It was not. I did not pass go, I did not collect £200.
So Sarah and I sat in A&E for about an hour. Sarah got chatting to a couple of pensioners who were looking after each other and had been married forever but were very happy and clearly cared for each other a lot. That was nice. I thought about Denise and thought about how much I love her (a lot - fact fans!) and how I didn't really want to have a heart attack miles away from her - all round probably best not to die, I think.
Yes, I think that perhaps getting stressed at work is probably not the correct way to shuffle off this mortal coil. Better do something about it. What kind of a bloody idiot would not start to sort things out? Lose a bit of weight, get my blood pressure under control, get a job that doesn't stress me.
I've just checked my phone messages over the last year and found out when this incident happened.
21st June 2013.
Clearly I am a bloody idiot. But I am doing something about it now.