I’m just going to pretend there has been no huge gap since my last post, we’ll just carry on like nothing happened and catch up eventually. OK?
I’m applying the same logic to the state of my house and size of my ironing pile.
The Wedding. We, The O’D’s, never EVER get to a wedding both on time and still speaking to each other. Sometimes we manage one, never both. I once missed a family wedding that I really wanted to go to, because I just wasn’t confident I wouldn’t throw my dinner at Pat.
One Thursday, in August (Shhh, we’re ignoring the gap – keep UP!), I had a bit of a day scheduled. Penultimate radiotherapy session first, dash (whilst not breaking any speed limits) to another hospital for a herceptin injection and then get home and get ready to see L & S get married.
Radio usually takes 15-20 minutes. 30 minutes later and I’m still lying on a fairly uncomfortable ‘bed’ and nothing is happening. People come in and measure up, deem everything satisfactory and disappear…then nothing fucking happens. 3 sodding times. Don’t they KNOW? I’ve got to get out of here, come on…ZAP!
“We’re having a problem with the machine”
No Shit! “Oh, can you fix it, or can we use another one? Can I come back some other time..add the session on to the end?” I don’t want to seem unreasonable, and normally I wouldn’t care…but not today, please not today. Oh Fuck, it’s the O’D wedding curse.
“The other machines are all booked up. Do you mind if we bring the IT guy in? He has to look at something behind that wall <waves vaguely behind my limited field of vision, since I’m still flat on my back>, we’ll cover you up. Is that ok?”
I’m married to an IT guy. If there’s some big techy problem no covering up is required, they won’t see people. Promise. They might even fall over naked people whilst heading towards the techy stuff. They will never fall over techy stuff.
“I have to be at a wedding this afternoon. I don’t care if you bring the entire IT dept in here. Please, just get it working. <pause> Have you tried switching it off and on again?”
Apparently I’m not as funny as I think I am. I was being bloody serious.
The machine eventually worked. I’m fairly sure they switched it off and on again. I was off that ‘bed’ and running before they’d lowered it back to ground level.
Thankfully the traffic was light and the needle worked faultlessly at the next hospital. I think the first hospital might have called ahead and warned them I was slightly stressed, and getting me out of there as fast as possible would be wise. They sort of darted me and let me go.
Not long after and we’re all suited and booted and on our way to the wedding. Hurrah! Not having any hair to do takes quite a lot of stress out of getting ready. It’s only a matter of time before bald weddings catch on (no eyelashes also equals no running mascara – there are benefits).
I couldn’t work out why Pat was stressed. We were in the car, plenty of time to spare, T had called to warn that the motorway was closed due to rampaging sheep or something, so we had diverted. I could tell that he was still uptight though, the way my head kept bouncing off the window as we went round corners was a total giveaway. The boys were looking up from their phones and everything.
“What’s up? Why the rush?”
“We’re not going to make it in time, we’ve only got 10 minutes”
“Eh? The wedding isn’t until 3”
“No, 2:30. S told us”
Laughing “No, it’s 3. He told you that so we wouldn’t be late”
We got there on time, but not speaking to each other. I still think it was funny.
The wedding was everything a wedding should be. It was a fabulous day and night, surrounded by friends and family celebrating. We laughed and danced and partied hard. We forgot we were cross with each other and all the shite we’d dealt with over the past few months. You reminded us of what matters, and what we do, “for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward….”
Thank you Mr & Mrs B, for letting us share your day.
I did make my last radiotherapy session the following day. Pat drove me there as I was still a little wobbly, there was no jumping off the bed and running that day.
“Are you OK, what’s happened?”
“Wedding. Hungover. Shhhhhh….”
It is good to be getting back to normal.