Here's a funny one.
We'd just opened up at Dan on Sunday and three new folk arrived, from Réunion Island. As I was getting to know them a little I was aware that I had lost part of the sight in my right eye. Or at least that that part of my field of view was not clear. I blinked and rubbed. No, it wasn't tears. Maybe some strange retinal problem. I could still see, however. I said nothing and carried on.
Then during the service I had a paragraph to read from Acts 2 in French. Much to my horror, I read it like a 10-year old, or possibly like someone with dyslexia. I skipped words, read things that made no sense to me, then realised what it said and had to go back over it. I realised that something was wrong, and I was concerned, but there wasn't anything anyone could do, so I carried on.
"That was a struggle!", said Pat. "Yes," I said.
By the end of the service I was feeling OK again. It had lasted about 1/2 hour. In the tram on the way home I told Pat what had happened. We wondered what it could be - it didn't seem to be a stroke, though I have maternal aunts and paternal uncles who died young of strokes. It didn't seem to be anything permanent. Perhaps one of those transient ischaemic attacks people have? Or a migraine?
I decided that unless it happened again I would not worry about it. Then I thought the better of it and decided to phone my doctor.
"Oh", she said, "that's a vagal malaise - a fainting fit, a sudden drop in blood pressure - come and see me early tomorrow morning and we'll check you over and get your bloods done. Meanwhile rest today with your feet up."
I hate resting with my feet up, especially on sunny days, but hey...
And so I went. She said, "You've lost weight!"
"Yes, about 5kg since I've been running."
"Hop on my scales. No, you've lost about 10 kg, and you look well."
She listened, measured, counted and did the stuff doctors do.
"Tell me all about everything", she said.
"OK. Everything you've said is reassuring. I think we need to reduce your meds. I think as well that it's just your way of coping with a stressful and busy weekend. I think it doesn't do any harm to faint now and again. It gets stuff out. I don't want to philosophise medicine, but you're a man who takes the Word and looks life and death in the face. I'm not concerned about you. We'll check your bloods, however."
So there we are. Now then, do I tell folk in the church or let them just think I had an off-day? I mean, in a way, that's what it was.