Be still my heart

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Hubby and I are at that age (61) where ailments are going to start catching up with us…even if we work out three times a week, like my Hubby does. (I plead the fifth.)  Thursday, after his “normal” three-hour workout at the YMCA, he called to say he was going to Costco to pick up a few things. A little while later he called back. I was expecting him to tell me he’d found something cool on his trip (he loves Costco), like the latest and greatest big-screen-TV, but instead, he said, “Kay, I’m in trouble.” Of course, as my heart dropped to my feet, my response was “What’s wrong?” Had he been hit by a car? Lost his wallet? Something worse?  Hubby: Both of my arms hurt—bad—and my chest…
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