nasty virus

I'm not talking about a computer virus, either.  
Cliff went to work as usual Tuesday; he hadn't been there long when he called to say he was sick, and needed to come home.  So our ever-faithful son-in-law came over and picked me up, and we went to fetch my husband.  Since he rides to work with someone else, he had no way to get home.  
Now, Cliff is never sick enough to miss work, so as soon as he called I started worrying... because that's my job.  My concern kicked into overdrive when I saw him looking pale as a ghost.  He crawled into the back seat, lay down, and groaned all the way home.  Not good.  
Neither of us got much sleep that night, thanks to Cliff's groaning and dry heaving.  Yesterday morning I suggested to him that we pay a visit to our doctor's office.  In my head I was thinking he ought to go to the emergency room (what if it's his heart again?), but I didn't figure he'd do that.  
I made an appointment with a nurse-practitioner, and we headed out.  The son-in-law was driving again, because Cliff felt too weak and nauseous to drive.  Weak and sweaty, just like when he was having heart trouble.  
It turns out, though, that there's been a vicious stomach virus going around; Nurse Joyce said their office has been overrun with people of all ages with this complaint for more than a week.  I mentioned to her that when Cliff's heart trouble first showed itself four years ago, he thought it was indigestion.  So she ordered an EKG, probably more for my benefit than anything else.  She told us to pick up some Mylanta on the way home (we never have anything like that on hand) and to let them know if he didn't start feeling better soon.  By the time she called in the late afternoon to check on him, Cliff was indeed feeling better, and actually dozing a little.  By late evening he was able to eat a bowl of cereal, and he slept soundly all night.  He's still asleep as I write this entry.   
I suppose the fear of Cliff's ticker acting up again will always be at the back of my mind.  I still lean over him occasionally when he's asleep in bed and listen for the sound of his breathing, just to make sure he's alive.  
Isn't that silly?