So I decided to start with a nice cough, and after a couple of weeks to make things more interesting. As soon as I mentioned to the Man I had a high temperature (over 39°C) he immediately shipped me to the closest hospital in order to get an x-ray, although I kept telling him I would be perfectly fine very soon (this guy can be incredibly stubborn sometimes).
I was mentally ready to wait several hours in ER, but after ticking the boxes:
I magically bypassed the whole line and was taken care of.
Turns out I was in Germany 2 weeks before (not very exotic), and the chest pain was due to my cough (but nobody asked for details, right?).
As expected by the Man (who learnt a couple of things in med school) I had a pneumonia, which in the last month prevented me from taking care of the kids, doing anything in the house, having any type of social life or a functioning brain (maybe the latest cannot be blamed on any illness).
Now the Man is a hero and I owe him a month of household chores.
Time to book this one-way ticket to South America.