In my past life, I had the pleasure in being in a few of my girlfriend’s wedding ceremonies. They always advised you to slightly bend your knees as you stood next to the glowing bride – something about blood flow to your brain. It’s hard to remember this because the shoes and dress are usually uncomfortable, and being in front of a room or church full of strangers isn’t a walk in the park, either. It’s easier to just stand there, stare into the distance and wait for the words, “I now pronounce you…”
Somehow, I got through the weddings I was part of, but when I attended a ceremony once, one of the bridesmaids didn’t listen to the simple advice. It was a lovely gathering, and the church was beautiful. The bridal party preceded the blushing bride and the vows were nice. All of a sudden, one of the skinny bridesmaids fainted. In a matter of two seconds, the attention of everyone in the church shifted from the lady in white to the lady in the pink number. Well, everyone except the bride, groom and pastor. The three of them carried on like nothing had happened. It was the oddest thing; it was almost as if the whole event had been rehearsed.
Someone in the front pew carried the girl off and we never saw her again. I’m assuming the person was a family member, a nurse or someone who had been hired to take away any “wedding disturbance.” That ordeal happened about 10 years ago, and I haven’t witnessed another fainting, until recently.
“Intern Anthony” and I were at the Clinton School recently to hear one of their weekly lectures, and during the talk, a man in the audience passed out. It was really surreal. Tables are set up inside Sturgis Hall, and about eight people can sit at a table. We sat in the back – that’s where they put the media, just in case we get rowdy.
Sitting in the back allows you to see everything that is going on in the room. I caught the kafuffle out of the corner of my eye – an elderly man had turned white as a sheet and slumped over in his chair. One of the Clinton School employees flew into action and ran to hold up the man. The man was unresponsive for several minutes, and he didn’t appear to be breathing. While this was going on, the woman continued her lecture, not noticing the traumatic event taking place at the back of the room. I looked at the speaker and then back at the fainted man like a tennis match.
Finally, she picked up on the disorder, apologized and told the audience that she would like to stop talking until everything was taken care of. The man was still unconscious even though everyone in the room stood up and started moving the tables for the paramedics.
Another Clinton School employee called 911 and they came in a matter of minutes – I was very impressed. Thankfully, there was also a nurse in the audience who attended to the man and stayed by his side until he was wheeled away. The EMTs rushed in and loaded the man onto a gurney, and before he left through the double doors, the fainted man, who was now awake, gave a little wave to the audience. It was so nice to see him attentive and somewhat alert.
This was Anthony’s first lecture at the Clinton School, one I’m sure he will never forget. Just like I won’t forget that petite bridesmaid who fainted and disappeared.