Some of you will remember when Ken Cannon had his fake heart attack a few years ago. I found him slumped over at his work desk, all drenched in sweatiness, the color of a scary wax icon, with a couple of his co-workers standing around, wondering what to do next.
Apparently calling an ambulance didn't occur to them.
Anyway, I ran him up to the hospital where they kept him overnight for observation--because who doesn't want to take a gander at Ken Cannon in a hospital gown now and then?--and then released him the next day without finding anything wrong.
Well, yesterday in church the same thing happened. Suddenly Ken was covered with sweat, and he went all yellow and gray. Also, he was a little disoriented. Finally, Rick Horne (whom I sometimes call Paul Bunyan--another story for another day) helped me get Ken out of the building and into the getaway car supplied by Geoff "the Hammer" Cannon, who drove Ken straight home and put him to bed.
I made Ken promise that if he felt any worse, he had to tell me so I could get him to the ER pronto. "Please don't put me in the position of having to explain to the ward why I let you die at home instead of taking you to the hospital," I said in a very loving wife voice.
He is much better this morning. In fact, he put on his going-to-work clothes and went to work. Hopefully we can get figure out what causes this, right?