Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) and ended up in the hospital

Christmas 2007 is known around our house as "Worst. Christmas. Ever." Seriously, it was bad. About a week or so before Christmas I began having terrible chest pains. I assumed it was heartburn (though I never get that, but it seemed the most likely cause) and ate about 500,000 Tums. They did not work. I tried Zantac thinking it might be acid reflux, something I had suffered from in the past. It did not work either. The pain was sort of always there. In the day it was bad, but at night it was unbearable. I couldn't sleep because every time I laid down it got worse (see this is why I thought heartburn or acid reflux). I ended up sleeping in a chair several nights. On Christmas Eve the pain hit a zenith. I cried it was so bad. M tried to get me to the hospital, but I refused (I can be very obsinate-I know that's hard to believe, but it's true) because I just knew I'd sit in the ER for hours, see a doctor for 10 minutes and be sent home with Mylanta or something like that. No thank you. I could be miserable, but far more comfortable at home. I finally fell asleep (in a chair) and woke up the next morning to a very excited Indy and so much pain I could barely breathe. Indy opened his presents and immediately afterwards I went to the hospital. The pain was making me nauseated and dizzy. Something was up. When I got to the ER there were 8 people waiting. A couple of them had the flu and one kid had what was probably a broken arm (one of the hazards of getting a skateboard for Christmas). I sighed thinking I was in for a long wait, and went to check in. The moment I mentioned chest pains, I was whisked off to the back and surrounded by doctors, nurses and some scary looking machines. Apparently chest pains trumps broken arms. Ha! Take that skater boy! In the back they ran several tests including an EKG and told me they thought I was having a heart attack. Um, what? I was 34, a decent weight, ate right and worked out almost 5 days a week (sickening isn't it?). There was no way I could be having a heart attack! They argued that all my symptoms pointed to it and they were going to admit me. To the cardiac ward. I was so not happy. They gave me an IV, nitro glycerin shots (in the stomach!) and took me off to do some more tests. One of them, and I can't for the life of me think of what it's called, is where they shoot dye into the IV and put you in a machine. What is that called???? Anyway, about 30 seconds after the dye went into my IV I started itching. Everywhere! It was awful! I am allergic to the dye. Sadly, I found this out the hard way. I was covered in hives and in addition to the pain in my chest, I was on fire. They ended up having to give me a shot of benedryl, which knocked me out. I'm actually kind of thankful for that because I finally got some decent sleep.
About 3 hours later they wheeled me up to the cardiac ward where I was easily the youngest person there by a good 30 years. My roomate was 94. And naked. And flatulant. Fa-la-la-la-la! I spent 2 days in the hospital getting every possible test done, my vitals checked every hour on the hour (this does not make for a good night's sleep), drugged to the moon and being fed food with absolutely no salt. Blech. My tests all came back negative. See, I KNEW it wasn't a heart attack! Turns out I had something called costochondritis. It's an inflamation in the sternum. The symptoms mimic those of a heart attack and to diagnose it, heart attack must be ruled out. I was discharged and sent home with some mega pain killers. The pain lasted another 4 months, though never as severe as it was on Christmas. I feel totally cheated out of last Christmas. Christmas 2007: Worst. Christmas. Ever.