Nothing will slow down wedding planning--and responsible blog-updating--like illness.
I woke up the other day, feeling fine. Really, really fine, the kind of fine where you immediately start planning your wardrobe because you're going to look THAT fantastic today. It was my last day off for the week (so, my Friday), and I was looking forward to a few hours of wedding planning and blogging before derby meetings and practice. Instead, just about noon hour as I was wrapping up some of the less fun tasks for my day, I experienced the panic-inducing symptoms of a very irate stomach.
I have no intention of detailing the next few hours to you, but suffice it to say, stomach bugs SUCK. Every day seems to bring a new opportunity to enhance my relationship with Bri, however, and this was no exception. Just as I was at the most intense point of wretching, teary, moaning, agonizing digestive misery, Brian came home for lunch. He stood outside the bathroom door and asked if there was anything he could do. It was a moment of truth: early on in our relationship, I had helped Brian through a three-day stomach flu that made Linda Blair look like a girl scout, and I never batted an eye. I did not judge him, I do not look at him today only to find some gruesome detail of that epic event inexorably linked to my mental memory of him. Yet somehow, it's different when it's the other way around. Standing outside the door yesterday, he asked if he could come in, and I said no; but within the next breath I changed my answer, my 'yes' so weak it sounded like a sad kitten. I'm confident many of you out there know that depth of illness where you'd rather just give up all semblance of dignity and have a caring soul there with you, as you're fairly certain you're going to die anyway, and then what will it matter how horrific you looked?
Brian was gallant. He held me in his arms on the bathroom floor, and when I was able to leave my white-tiled hell, he had put my pillows and blanket on the couch for me, made me chicken noodle soup, and had turned on Gilmore Girls. He tucked me into the couch, gave me my laptop, and told me I had a one-day-only special permission to look at the wedding blogs (from which I have been banned by Mo, due to the overload of ideas I was getting). He made sure I was comfortable before he returned to work, and when he came home a few hours later, he made me scrambled eggs and toast, and surprised me with something wonderful: he'd found a favourite movie of mine at the grocery store in the bargain bin--a movie I have not been able to find anywhere in the city! ('Dave', before you ask...an oldie but a goodie.) It felt as if letting him care for me through something as vulnerable as digestive pyrotechnics had actually brought us closer together; like sharing that level of trust was another step on our path together as a couple...albeit a horrific, unappealing step, but a step nonetheless. We lay on the couch together, Brian keeping me supplied with tea and crackers while I shivered and repeatedly apologized for being so disgusting. Brian passed no judgement, took tender care of me, and carried me to the bedroom like a Harlequin heroine when I was ready for bed.
Sometimes a mate does something so incredibly sweet for you, you're certain you could not ever fully return the favour. Taking care of me, as he did, is definitely one of those instances. I thought all day today about what I could get, make, or give him that would express my undying love and gratitude for his kindness. All I have been able to think of so far is to lavish him with kisses, which I have been doing quite diligently all evening.
He's smiling at me adoringly now, so I'm going to take my leave from the internet for the night. We will get back on track shortly with entries detailing offers, venue visits, and more. In the meantime, if you have a special someone, I heartily recommend cuddling up with them right now.
No comments:
Post a Comment