Monday night Warren started having a bad reaction to the beta-blocker the doctors put him on. He called the advice nurse, who in turn told him to call 911 and have an ambulance take him in.
Wanting to avoid ambulance fees, he instead had me throw something on and shlep him to the ER. This was something like 9:30pm, so we didn't have a choice. It was good I was with him because it gave us a reference point for what his skin color is supposed to look like (we normally match up). His was really dark red and was also marbled on his palms.
Eventually they sent me home -- around 5am. He was allowed to sleep for a couple of hours, then was given a treadmill test. His heart was in primo shape. One of the internal medicine docs who administered the treadmill had studied under Warren's neurologist and feels it's the cyst causing the heart problems. Warren sees his "regular" doctor again Thursday.
Meanwhile, I've been sleeping a lot to recover. Someone called wanting to telephone-interview me while I was with him at his doctor's appointment Monday, but she neither gave me a return phone number nor called back. Grrrf.