It wasn't a heart attack after all

Walter was away for 2 nights last week doing a "workshop" in the Drakensberg. On the first night, loving the idea of only sharing the bed with the 3 cats, I dreamt I was being stabbed in the chest. I woke up, looked around, realised I wasn't and immediately self-diagnosed a heart attack.
After a while of lying there waiting for the harps, angels and bright light, I realised it was on the right side, so probably wasn't a heart attack, and quickly ran through re-runs of Greys Anatomy and House in my head.
Right - so possibly a pulmonary embolsim, pericarditis, pneumonia, TB or a deep vein thrombosis from the overseas trip then.
After a few more nights of this I realised that it was only at night and finally took myself off to the doctor yesterday for some qualified advice (after my grandmother breezily told me it was acid reflux, gave me a tablet and told me to call her in the morning)
The good diagnostician GP listened to my tale of woe, my own carefully considered diagnosis, took my blood pressure (perfect), listened to heart and lungs and announced my grandmother was right.
The drugs I've been taking for sinus have a nasty stomach irritation side effect. Should clear up when the course is finished. He gave me more of the drugs my grandmother had dished out (don't tell her she's right) and sent me on my way.
So. No need to update my will just yet then.