The day of my wedding started off similarly to how you may imagine the first day your stay in hell may begin. Or, maybe, just my first day in hell personally.
At 6:00 AM I jolted up with a horrible gurgling sensation in my stomach and the desire to puke up my intestines. I definitely did not feel hungover. I only had about three drinks the night before and ate a normal amount of food. I didn’t even gorge myself like I normally do at party-type functions. It was a weird sensation.
“Nerves,” you say.
No, not nerves, just my overall sensitive stomach acting up like I feared it might. So I lay there thinking, “This is some type of bullshit karma.”
I call Mr. P. and beg him to go downstairs and get me some Pepto pills from the front desk. HE, however, WAS hungover, and hating his life. Remember his 3:00 AM bloody mouth situation? This is a normal way to start your wedding day, yes?
Smart aleck called the front desk, who sent someone up with Pepto pills. The guy smirked and turned away after I gratefully snatched them from his hand. I WASN’T HUNGOVER! Sheesh.
I then texted my mom to see if she was awake, and asked her to get me some dry cereal from the breakfast buffet downstairs to hopefully absorb the acids bouncing around my belly.
She brought me some Rice Krispies, and I lay in bed mumbling to myself, ate half a box of Rice Krispies, then stuck my hand down my throat and puked up dinner from the night before. Sorry, too graphic.
Anyway, my life is a sitcom, and after my little situation I was just wondering what would happen before the next commercial break. I let Bridesmaid Blondey, who is a nurse, know about my predicament. She asked me what the antibiotic was called that the dermatologist had prescribed me. Sure enough, she let me know that the major side effect of it was nausea, vomiting, and upset stomach! So, enough of that attempt to kill my pimple of death.
My hair lady came early, by the way. Which USUALLY I really appreciate. This time, however, I just wanted to die and be left to my own suffering.
Something about her coming to set up sorta snapped me to attention. I took a shower and felt a little bit better. I lounged in bed, then popped up, let people into the suite, lay down again and mumbled, sat in the suite looking glumly around, and something like five hours later started feeling better.
Some of the hair spread
Misery with my Rice Krispies under my arm
Misery slowly subsiding
Getting my face did
Bridesmaid Little keeping me entertained
I thank the sheer adrenaline that runs through your veins the day of your wedding for bringing me out of my stupor. After we got ready, my bridesmaids went back to their room to get ready. I packed up the crap lying all around the suite, and we were on our way to get me married!
Looking alive and ready to go-go in the lobby
(No, that’s not my wedding ensemble. I changed at the venue.)
Did you feel less than spectacular the day of your wedding?
- I become the BK Bride
- The pimple of death threatens to ruin our day
- We exchange presents
- We don’t rehearse, but we laugh