(First of all, I need to offer an apology for my absence lately. You’ll understand after reading this post.)
On Friday night/Saturday morning at approximately 12:30 am, it started. I was sick. Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick.
We both suspect food poisoning. (Don’t worry, our Friday night Thanksgiving meal sharers, we don’t blame anyone!)
But no matter the cause, it was certainly unpleasant. Yikes. Ick. Blech. Blah. I’ll spare you the details, but long story short, neither of us slept much that night. (Well, to be honest, Wyatt started out sleeping just fine on the couch, but I woke him up and begged him to at least be close enough he could hear me if I needed him.) And we made it through the night, sleeping maybe 20 minutes to the hour for me, since I was up sick about every 40 minutes, and 45 minutes to the hour for Wyatt since I could hear him snoring while I was hurling my guts and lungs out in the bathroom. (Sorry for that visual. I’ll try to keep the rest of the unpleasantness to a minimum.)
When we got home from the party, I headed straight for the privacy of the bathroom (we’re newlyweds, I didn’t want him to hear me hurl) and he cleaned the entire kitchen, all the dishes and all the counters (since it was super messy from my turkey adventure…more on that later.) He also folded the laundry that was in the dryer. I didn’t know it at the time since I was a bit preoccupied, but it was a huge blessing when I realized it the next day.
And even though I didn’t want Wyatt to hear or see me when I was so disgusting and sick, there comes a point in every relationship that all that becomes less important. It’s safe to say that we reached that point. Yes, I kindly shut the door behind me every time I got up, and yes, Wyatt says the whole process wasn’t that gross for him because he didn’t have to clean up anything or “hold my hair back” (I’ve never understood that, why not use a pony tail?) I’d never thrown up in his presence before that night. And I certainly decided to break that barrier with a bang. And I wasn’t ashamed to groan with how much pain I was in, or tell him what was wrong with me or ask for him to get up in the middle of the night to bring me some water, or help me not pass out in the shower the next day…(reason #100 that husband roommates are the best)
All I can say is that I’m super thankful our bathroom is so close to our bedroom.
Finally, morning came, and things calmed down a little, though I could barely get out of bed and was so sore and tired (Hurling that often will certainly cause your insides to freak out, let me tell you.) I couldn’t have functioned even if I could have. He ran to Wal-mart and brought home Gatorade, which I don’t like, but he insisted I should drink, and Cheerios, my preferred sick food. And you know what else that sweet man brought home?
Yup, the man who thinks flowers are a waste of money because they just die and they cost a lot brought me flowers. I didn’t ask for them…how could I, in the midst of my misery? And I didn’t even know they were there because he just put them in a big pitcher on our coffee table and I didn’t see them until about 3 o’clock that afternoon.
But that’s why it was so sweet, he didn’t do it to impress me or show off. He did it because he knew that when I saw them, it would cheer me up.
And you know what?
Now, by Saturday afternoon, I was “better.” Meaning I was no longer hurling every half hour but could still barely stand, and I had a pretty severe “mystery pain/pulled muscle” in the left side of my lower abdomen which made it hard to sit or stand…or lay… (man, it hurt. You may be thinking I’m a wuss. I’m not. Ask my mom and dad, ask Wyatt, ask my sister)
And since we had plans in Sedalia, Wyatt helped me pack and we headed out in the Honda. We only had to stop once on the way, and we made it fast. (Thanks for driving fast and safe, Hubs, because that car ride was NOT my favorite part of the weekend.)
Our plans consisted of going to Lyceum Theatre to use our free tickets from Missouri Life magazine. But we almost didn’t go since I was still not feeling well when we got to my parents’ house. Finally, I decided I’d probably feel the same whether at the theatre or in bed, and since I wasn’t contagious, we might as well go. So we did. And yes, I felt sick, and yes, the car ride wasn’t fun (thanks for letting me lay on you, Hubs) and yes, I didn’t laugh nearly as much as I would have if I wasn’t in pain, but it was still fun, and I’m glad we didn’t miss it.
But we went to bed the second we got back to my parents’ house. It had been an 8 o’clock show, and we were both still exhausted from that long, sleepless morning.
And we spent most of the next day lounging around on my parents’ couch until it was time for their 30th anniversary surprise dinner that night, which I’m thankful I was well enough to enjoy, even if I only had salad and a baked potato.
So, that was my weekend, and why my weekend recap is a bit late this week.
All in all, even though I was so super sick and miserable, I wouldn’t say at all that it was a bad weekend. If nothing else (and there was a lot else, celebrating my parents’ 30 years of marriage, for one thing), I was humbled and blessed every few minutes by how awesome Wyatt was.
He was more than caring and more than wonderful. Yes, the flowers were a nice surprise, and I’m still enjoying them, but it was more than that. He took my temperature with the fancy thermometer I didn’t know how to work that he went out to buy to make sure I wasn’t really “sick,” and he kept me in supply of water, Gatorade, and 7up. He packed for me, he carried everything, he made multiple trips to the car when I forgot something or he couldn’t carry everything in one trip. He made me lunch on Sunday when I thought I could eat something. He cleaned, he did laundry, he woke up when I woke up (for the most part), and he rubbed my back and held my hand as I moaned and groaned in pain, even though he was in a sleepy stupor and probably was just trying to get me to be quiet. Most of all, he wasn’t grumpy or unpleasant or unwilling in any of it.
I hadn’t really given much though to the “in sickness” part of our vows. It isn’t something that’s especially pleasant or fun to think about or plan for. I mean, I’ve put a lot of effort into living out the “in health” part, figuring out how to be a wife to my husband, but I’m more thankful than ever for the other end of that as well. I’m almost excited (almost!) for when I can take my turn at taking care of him!
What about you? Anything great happen this weekend? Anything unpleasant to deal with? What about the “in sickness” thing, how has it come to play in your marriage?