I am married to a happy man. Unfortunately, I can’t claim much credit for this, because Mark was born happy. His childhood nickname was “Sunshine,” for heaven’s sake! (Mine was “Calamity Jane,” but that’s another story.) I have written previously about his lack of worry, his enthusiasm for any outing, the way he wakes up smiling. But I have not yet written about the laugh.
Mark loves to laugh. And we love it when he does, because his laugh itself is entertaining. He’s a silent laugher. Instead of emerging as sound, his mirth causes a face-stretching grin and an internal tremor that quakes his shoulders, shakes his chair, vibrates several seats to either side when he’s in a theater. It’s quite a powerful force! But it’s a silent force.
Recently, we were sitting around the table after dinner with our son. We were all feeling witty and were amusing each other thoroughly. Mark was grinning and shaking as usual. Suddenly, his head fell forward. I thought he had inhaled a little something, since that’s the movement he makes when he coughs or clears his throat.
“Are you okay?” I asked. He didn’t speak. Alarmed, I jumped up, got behind his chair, and started to attempt a Heimlich maneuver. But I didn’t feel like I was doing it well, and I started to panic. “Call 911,” I said to Sam. To Mark, I said, “Honey, stand up so I can get a better angle to do the Heimlich.”
That’s when I finally realized he wasn’t choking — he was unconscious. I was trying to Heimlich a slumped-over man who had abruptly passed out. Thank goodness, just then Mark started to come around. Sam reported this to the 911 dispatcher. “Have them come anyway,” I called to Sam as Mark opened his eyes.
“Do you know what just happened?” I asked. He looked at me with the expression of a little boy who always wakes up happy. “I was sleeping,” he said sweetly.
The ending of this story, like Mark himself, is happy. By the time the EMT team banged on the door, he was feeling completely fine. The EKG was normal. But his blood pressure was high, and he was “diaphoretic” (in layman’s terms, kinda sweaty), and then there was that unexplained…uh, sleeping.
“You know you’re going to the hospital, right?” asked the lead EMT. Many hours and many tests later, the E.R. doc brought us a journal article on a rare phenomenon: laughter-induced syncope (syncope = passing out). Turns out that people can pass out from all kinds of activities that involve some kind of internal pressure — weight-lifting, trumpet playing, what Elvis was doing when he died. Mark revealed that he has always gotten light-headed when he laughed hard, but he never told anyone because he thought that everyone did!
No, honey. Only the really happy people, perhaps? Thank goodness he’s fine and it was probably a one-time thing. The cardiologist has cleared him for laughing. But we’re taking it slow, so if you see Mark, keep any really great jokes to yourself!
As always, thanks for reading Our Town!
Your publishers,
Sandy Bailey Lipten and Mark Lipten
April 2008 Click here to return to home page.