It’s Day 3 of taking a walk every day, and I was optimistic. Days 1 and 2 had been physically draining, but I detected a whisper of strength my legs hadn’t had recently, and planned to walk a few blocks farther today than yesterday. I’d have breakfast at my favorite diner, busing there but riding two stops beyond, and then walking the six or seven blocks to Little Pat’s Place. A short walk, then breakfast — how delightful!
For an old, obese man who was in the hospital a week ago, recovery & recuperation seemed to be right on schedule. Had muscle aches left over from yesterday’s walk, but other than that I was upright and chipper, so I slipped into pants, shoes, flannel shirt, and a jacket, and walked half a block to the bus stop.
It was 52° this morning, which is autumn weather, but not particularly cold. Yet I began to feel chilled. If it had been 5-10 degrees colder I might’ve worn a second pair of sweat pants or a heavier jacket, but it hadn’t seemed necessary, until it did.
The bus came, and I got on, took a seat, and shivered. During the ride what felt like mild indigestion hit me in the upper chest, like last night’s meatballs out for revenge, only there hadn’t been meatballs last night. Hadn’t eaten since a light lunch yesterday, so maybe the sour stomach was from emptiness?
At the bus station, I sat and shivered and waited and wondered. My second bus came, but a wave of nausea and an urge to vomit hit as we rolled along, and the indigestion felt worse.
Yes, I’m aware that these can be symptoms of a heart attack, but — “Is there any history of heart disease in your family?” That’s the question a doctor would ask, and the answer is no. Hollands have healthy hearts. Then again, I’ve always been the guy who disappoints the rest of the family, and the doc did tell me I’d slightly stressed my heart before last week’s surgery.
When the bus reached the restaurant, riding two stops farther and walking back seemed like the dumbest idea since Trump for President, so I rang the bell and stepped off and into the restaurant. Eating a meal would steady and strengthen me, right? After breakfast, I’d walk some blocks to a more distant stop for the exercise.
At the counter, I sat and studied the menu, though I’ve eaten a thousand meals at Little Pat’s and have the menu memorized. Again an Arctic coldness hit me. I was shaking, and then came goose bumps and sweats like an addict in withdrawal.
I ordered oatmeal, thinking something hot and thick might cling to my innards and warm me. I was soooo cold, and nauseous, and the acid indigestion was plain painful. Sometimes Alka Seltzer is in my backpack, so I unzipped every pocket and dug around, but this was not one of those sometimes.
The oatmeal came quick and hot and I shoved it down my oatmeal hole, and it helped. Paid my tab and tip and walked to the bus stop, feeling almost alive, but when the bus came the shivers came too, and I shook all the way to the bus depot.
Waiting for my bus home, the shivers and shakes and indigestion burning in my chest became frightful. There would be no walk today, obviously.
From the stop at my house, walking half a block home was difficult. Once inside I went straight to the Alka Seltzer, which is actually Picot, a Mexican knock-off brand. Had three glasses of water plus Picot, and felt 10% better. Got into my recliner, under the blankets, space heater blasting at me, an electric heating pad spread over my torso, and sat and shivered for the longest time.
With all that warmth the shivers eventually faded, but the indigestion stayed at 90%, with more nausea plus a few dry heaves. More and more suspecting a heart attack, I unplugged my charger to bring it with me to the hospital, but I couldn’t call for an ambulance because my phone was still in my backpack, across the room, and I was too weak and weary for the half-dozen steps it would take to reach the phone.
But yes, damn it, I was going to the hospital again. The decision was made. All I needed was to gather the gumption to rise up, walk those few steps to my backpack, and dial 9-1-1. Just a moment’s grace as I struggle to my feet… but instead I fell asleep, perchance to die.
Woke several hours later, feeling better than fine. All my symptoms are gone, along with even my baseline muscle aches. I could belt out the theme from Oklahoma — “Oh, what a beautiful morning”…
It’s sunny and warm out, and I’d cheerfully take a walk, except I’m not that stupid. Whatever the hell I survived this morning, my preference is that it not happen again.
Today’s shivers and tummy discomfort must’ve been the last remnant of flu from a few days ago. Yeah, that’s it. Thought I’d already recovered, but the flu fought back. That’s the explanation.
And I’m still feeling fine a few hours later, so here’s what I’m going to do about all this:
Ignore it.
Take two aspirin and swallow more Vitamin C.
Bundle up warmer next time I step outside.
Drop some Alka Seltzer knock-off into my backpack.
Maybe take a walk every second day, instead of every day.
And of course, I’ll stash any worries in an inaccessible corner of my mind, along with my emotions, the big philosophical questions, and some especially unpleasant childhood memories. Other than that, let’s agree that nothing happened this morning.
10/12/2025
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