In the 22 years that we have been a couple, there has probably been a lot more mornings where I have been the hungover one. Obviously this makes me much more sympathetic when it happens to OH….. Of course, that’s an complete lie – I am never sympathetic and definitely not on the morning of a family wedding.
The wedding would be starting at 2pm and was being held in a beautiful room in the hotel. This was lucky on two counts – 1) the storm was raging outside 2) OH could sleep it off for a few hours. But not before he took me for breakfast! Some might say I was cruel for insisting he accompany me down for brekkie – I prefer the term tough love.
Breakfast was one of those fabulous hotel ones where you can have a bit of everything – a fry up, healthy cereals, even pancakes. Having been shown to our table, we made our way up to the buffet and I took a bowl of cereal, intending to return for the hot food. I left OH trying to negotiate the toaster. After a good 10 minutes had passed I deduced OH must be lost – it was a big dining room I suppose. I have to confess to having a little snigger to myself, picturing him forlornly drifting round the tables with his little plate of toast; I know, I have a bad streak in me. Just as I was about to send out the search party, he appeared. He was completely delighted with himself. Not only had he worked the toaster, he had also plated up two cooked breakfasts. The fact that I have been a vegetarian for nearly 4 years had obviously slipped his addled brain and my plate contained sausages and white pudding (to be fair, this would have been my favourite back in the day). But, let me hear the applause, I thanked him for his amazing deed and covered said sausages & pudding over with my napkin.
We went back to our room where I finally allowed him to fall into a coma for the next few hours.
The delightful meds duo of Mr Mekinist & Mr Tafinlar have produced several side effects so far and one of them is teenage spots. To be truthful, I never really had many spots as a teenager, so maybe this is my punishment for that. I piled on the makeup and one of the gorgeous bridesmaids twirled my hair. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see the end result, but here you go
I finally woke up the snoring OH at 1pm and he made himself look handsome – men have it so easy – in about 10 minutes. But there was talk of ‘not drinking today’ and ‘I won’t be partying tonight’ – oh yes, we’ve all said the words, but do we ever stick to them?
The wedding was fabulous, the bride was very beautiful and the groom looked as he should – completely delighted to be marrying the woman he loves. For the record, I did a reading of Sonnet 116 – do look it up. OH suggested anyone reading it should be wearing a cod piece, but the bride chose it and it was incredibly fitting.
OH’s resolve not to drink lasted until 5pm. Surrounded by cousins he hadn’t seen in years, the drink and the stories flowed. The meal was served and I tested out my red wine worry. It was true! Red wine, my most favourite thing, did not taste right. Of all the things the meds wanted to take, did it have to be red wine? It couldn’t be brussels sprouts or cabbage? Sorry I can’t eat that disgusting cabbage stuff, my meds don’t allow it? Now that would be worth it. I drank two glasses to make sure.
The day drifted into the evening and I calculated there had been 2 hours since I had eaten so I took myself off to my room and took my meds. It became clear almost immediately this was a mistake. Either the wine or my time calculations were wrong. I stood about in the room, kind of pacing, but more like shuffling from one foot to the other. I am not a serial puker, I can count on one hand the instances of non-anaesthetic puking and they have pretty much all been alcohol related. Most mortifying was being sick in a pint glass at a party after too many jelly shots – I hope you’re not eating whilst reading this. Anyway, the point is, I knew it was coming and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Sure enough, the meds, the meal, the wine, the lot, all got a second viewing.
The instructions are that, if you are sick, you don’t risk taking another dose of the meds as you don’t know how much you might have already ingested. Truthfully, having been sick, I felt ok. My hair was still twirled, my make up wasn’t smeared down my face, so what to do? Go back to the party of course.
The dancing was in full swing and I normally get up onto that dancefloor and stay there until something I can’t dance to comes on. Sadly my leg was too sore for that and I sat back at the table to watch the rest of the party unfold. I called it a day at 2am. OH had found not just his second wind, but his third & fourth. As I left him to it they were striking up the guitars for a resident’s bar sing song.
Do you want to have a guess what time the sorry knock came to the door? 5am. But this time there was an added bonus. One of the bridesmaids couldn’t get into her room and my Sir Galahad had brought her along too! Luckily our room had a double and a single – good job really as I don’t think he had quite thought about the actual semantics of bringing another woman ‘home’ with him. I have to say I did have a giggle to myself as the two of them fell into snoring, drunken comas.
Whilst this has been a hard few months for me, I sometimes think it has been even harder for OH. All the attention is on me and he only gets to hear me have grumble about aches & pains. I was delighted he had enjoyed himself so much, he deserved every moment of it.