The Bride That Almost Died Pt. One

September 27th 2003 my life was forever changed… and not just because it was my wedding day.

I woke up the morning of my wedding feeling extremely ill. Fresh out of bed I ran straight to the bathroom to vomit. I continued to do so throughout the entire day. It was a complete nightmare! I was very weak and couldn’t keep anything down. Everyone kept saying “you’re nervous” or “you have the flu.” I responded with “I’m not nervous. This is way worse then any flu I’ve ever had! I feel like I’m dying!” Well guess what… I was.

Everybody came to my house to get ready. We had a ton of food and even a champagne fountain that my friend Lisa brought. Hair and makeup being done. I however couldn’t partake in the festivities because I was to busy with my face in the porcelain throne vomiting on a regular basis. I remember thinking to myself, why is this happening? Of all days to be so sick, why the day of my wedding?! I was so pissed this was happening to me!

The limo bus picks me and my bridal party up to take us to the church. I was still vomiting and didn’t want to puke on my dress so I didn’t actually get dressed until right before I walked down the aisle. Only to discover that my dress was to big on me! How could this be? I was just fitted a week ago! I was super irritated! Not only am I so sick, but my dress doesn’t fit either! I was so pissed off!

The plan was to have both my mother and father walk me down the aisle, thank god because I wouldn’t have made it without both of them. One on each side, basically holding me up to walk down the aisle. I knew once I got to the altar I would have to have the strength to stand on my own. I was going to have to pull it together and dig deep for that kind of energy. Don’t ask me how, but I did it. I was determined. I was also strong enough to walk out the side door of the church so I didn’t puke in front of a church full of our guests. That was fun. NOT! The priest handled it and kept going with the ceremony as I bolted out the door. Miraculously, I managed not to puke all over my dress! I came back in the church and all I hear is chatter about what had just happened. You see, nobody really knew I was sick, or how sick I was, so then all of the assumption and rumors started.

When I came back in the church it was time for me to sit next to my husband (now ex-husband more about that later.) He was frustrated and didn’t know why I was so sick.Who knows what he was thinking? We were arguing “quietly” on the altar! Are you kidding me? Could this day be any crazier?! The priest turned to us and shushed us! I can laugh about it now but I was so embarrassed, embarrassed about everything. I felt like  I poured my heart and soul into this day and it was a complete nightmare! Why me? Why today? Why do I feel like I’m dying? Why is this happening?

The ceremony was over and I was progressively feeling worse. We had some time before the reception so myself and a few other people went back to my house so I could lay down for a bit. I was able to sleep. The weather was gorgeous so the rest of the bridal party stayed on the limo bus and went to take pictures outside at Lakeview Cemetery. Sounds creepy, I know, but it is a historical beautiful cemetery and was very close to my house.  The irony is that I felt like death. My sister was on the phone with my doctor and the doc called in a prescription for a suppository. Excuse me a what? Are you Fucking kidding me? What the hell is that going to do? I was told it would help and I was desperate to feel better so I did it. The first and last time I will ever do that! It did absolutely nothing except further piss me off!

The limo bus came back to the house to pick us up to take group pictures before the reception. Aside from the church I wasn’t in any pictures and that was not cool with me. Initially we were going to head downtown for pictures but everyone thought it would be a better idea if we stayed local and went to a park close to the reception hall. Thank god we did because we were also close to the hospital.

By this point I had probably puked at least 60 times. No exaggeration, I was barely able to walk. I was getting worse as every minute passed by. Everyone was insisting that I go to the hospital, but I refused! I was determined to make it to my reception…

To be continued…