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The Worst Bridesmaid Ever Pug's wedding was on the August long weekend, July 31st actually. We spent the night before the wedding decorating the hall and putting together bouquets and boutonni�res. It was really weird for me, I felt like I shouldn't be there. It was Pug, her sister, her cousin, her best friend from forever ago, another cousin and Mini (the guy who used to live in her closet - long story). All of them grew up together in the same place; they had all the same jokes, the same stories, the same past, the same taste�and I was the odd one out. It wasn't that they didn't try to include me; they're all very friendly and fun people, not at all exclusive, it was that you just had to be there and I hadn't been there. They all went home together and I went home by myself to bed.
In the morning Bear dropped me off at the hair salon. We started the morning off with Black Eyed Peas - 'Let's Get Retarded', which became the theme song for the day. The hairdressers were all quirky in their own way. Funky is amazing, she's super friendly and always has the coolest clothes. Jazz told one of the girls that her haircut was awful and she needs a new stylist. Spray told me that if I can handle the sparkle hairspray then my lungs are really tough, and proceeded to give me a terrible asthma attack and make me lose my voice. The rest of the morning and early afternoon was a whirlwind of high-speed pizza, spilled nail polish, and mad dashing. The hair was finished, the bags were crammed in a random car, the makeup hastily applied, and helping hands tugged dresses and straps. The rule for the bouquets was if a flower fell off "leave it where it lies." Soon we were crammed into the limo and speeding towards the church. Every few minutes the bride would call out, "Time?" and we would reassure her. We turned a corner and the church came into view. She paled visibly and said," Okay. Now. Now, I'm nervous. Whoo!"
The ceremony was both beautiful and humorous. We laughed as we counted our respective 24, 26, 24 and 38 second walks down the aisle (the groom over-planned a bit). We all cried as Pug appeared in the doorway, the crescendo of the piece. We chuckled at how 'supportive' we all were, crying at her coming down the aisle. We choked up from the reading, the poem that the groom wrote of his love for his bride, his proposal. We giggled nervously when the unity candle wouldn't light and the groom stuck his candle on top of it. We swooned at the beauty of the duet, soaring voices sending up a prayer of love.
All too soon it was over and I was dancing down the church aisle with my pint-sized partner; the youngest ring-bearer was my date for the day.
Pictures went well, we finished just as thunder threatened. As the drops started to fall the limo whisked us away to the reception. A few more photos in the mall and then we marched into the hall.
Within moments of sitting down with our plates, all the women slipped the high heels off of their tortured feet. I had somehow managed to get through several hours of stairs, hills, grass and more in high-heeled shoes without breaking an ankle. The speeches and slideshow and first dance flew past and soon we were dancing up a storm.
(I realise now that I look naked in this picture, but I'm really not). Later in the dance, I had finally retrieved all of my bags and my shoes from their various locations and was able to put on comfortable shoes and pry myself out of both my bridesmaid's dress and my creation-of-the-devil bustier. Free of crinoline and boning, I returned to the dance. Pug's only request of the Wammick contingent was to drink up at the open bar and to have a blast dancing. No problem! It was like old times, dancing at The Plant. Hel and Jen and I giggling uncontrollably at nothing at all, and then Hel would snort and we'd explode in a bigger fit of laughter, the kind that bends you over clutching your sides. Pug wandered over to dance with us every once in a while and I partied it up with Chnaners, Princess, Kristus and Africa. I was starting to get tipsy, to catch up with my friends, but I wasn't by any means drunk yet. Then 'Home for a Rest' started playing and Smacked and I started doing some basic Irish dance steps to it. I taught Princess a few easy bits, sevens and how to change directions. Then I thought I'd test out how well I remembered the new reel that I learned this year. It was going quite well; every so often I would mess up in the more complicated part and have to start over, but otherwise I was getting it fairly consistently. I hopped and turned and fairly flew over the carpet until suddenly I came down wrong on my left ankle which rolled over so far that the bony part touched the ground with a nasty snap and I toppled backwards, landing on someone's feet. People rushed from the midnight lunch line-up to help me to my feet, not realizing the extent of the problem. I insisted that I had to sit for a minute, but remained positive and decisive. Pain was shooting through all sides of my ankle and foot, and up to my knee but I decided that it was probably a sprain. Halo appeared at my right with, "What can I do to help? Would you like some ice?" I nodded. Within a couple of minutes I had two nurses and an almost physiotherapist there. Hel, in her final year of physio, touched my ankle gently and asked me to move it a bit and agreed that it was probably a sprain. This was a great relief to me as the cracking sound had alarmed me. By the time Halo returned with the ice I was ready to get up and go back to the Wammick table. Bear gripped my hand tightly as I hobbled toward the back of the room. Soon I was sitting fairly comfortably with two ice-filled napkins on my ankle. I waved friends away. "I'm fine. Go have fun!" I insisted. I didn't want to spoil the party for anyone, least of all the bride and groom. About then the alcohol caught up with me and I started getting a bit dizzy. However I rested it, my ankle throbbed at me, "Stupid! Stupid!" I muttered at myself in time to the pulsing. I started feeling sick to my stomach and closed my eyes. I was breathing shallowly, starting to panic, terrified that I would get sick all over everything. My head spun and my ears were full of cotton; my mind started drifting and I couldn't feel my arms. The room went black. I blurted out, "I have to lie down" and fell to the floor. My mind drifted further, losing almost all contact with my body. Far, far away I could hear Pug calling my name, I tried to speak and don't know if I managed it. The pressure in my ears increased and my arms and face went completely numb. I just wanted Pug to go back to her wedding, to stop wrecking her exciting day. Slowly, slowly my hearing returned. My arms began to respond and I forced myself to take deep slow breaths. Soon I was able to sit part way up. Africa admonished me, "I'm not a doctor yet; you can't do this!" I felt terrible; a large group had formed around me, including Pug on my right and her new husband on my left. "Go have fun", I wailed, "I'm the worst bridesmaid ever!" "No you're not!" insisted Africa, "If you were the worst bridesmaid ever you'd have run away to Mexico with the groom." I laughed and sniffled. Hotel staff arrived wanting me to sign forms promising not to sue. They brought a wheelchair and said I had to leave in it. I was horrified at all the attention: still disoriented and sick, I couldn't understand what they wanted from me. Africa took care of it, using her best 'leave her alone' face. At this point people started suggesting that I should go to the hospital. The closest one was a few blocks away and Smacked's fianc� (Flameboy) could drive Bear and I there. Halo brought me water and told me to drink as much as I could, "The sooner you're sober, the sooner you can have drugs." Finally I consented to be lifted to the wheelchair and wheeled out. I had the presence of mind to grab my purse and tell someone where my belongings were. Halo wheeled me through the building with Smacked, Flameboy and Bear following. My teeth chattered and I shook; they covered me with Bear's suit jacket and loaded me into the car. Soon we arrived at the hospital. I checked in and updated my contact information. My emergency contact was Bear. Relationship? They designated him as "other" having no computer option to explain our relationship. Two hours later I was the only patient left in the waiting room. Hopeful, Smacked checked at the desk and was surprised to discover that it would be several hours more before anyone could see me. A rush of ambulances had arrived with critical patients, including an elderly man who rolled past grey-faced on a stretcher, with paramedics performing CPR. A nervous pregnant couple had arrived too, ready to deliver their new baby. The adrenaline had worn off, and with the prospect of several more hours to wait I suggested that Smacked and Flameboy might want to go home, there was no sense in four of us staying there and losing sleep. Finally, around 4:30 a.m., I awoke to Bear saying my name and a doctor crouching in front of my wheelchair. He manipulated my foot and pressed on my ankle to see which spots made me leap the highest out of my seat. My ankle was starting to look grotesque with swelling, and my foot was ice-cold, purple and blotchy. The doctor said that he thought it was a bad sprain but we should x-ray in case, the x-ray department was nearly caught up with the long-weekend blue moon backup. Five-thirty rolled around and an orderly arrived to take me to x-ray. Another patient with a broken ankle had arrived and as the orderly was wheeling me out the doctor came to examine her. The doctor told the orderly to leave me in the waiting room because they would do a portable. The orderly and doctor both disappeared. I hadn't had any food or liquid in over five hours at this point and was painfully dehydrated. My lips felt cracked and my throat was a misery; my tongue had swollen in my mouth and I was nauseous. Suddenly the nausea increased and my head spun. I started panicking again. I threw my belongings into a chair and croaked, "Bear. Bear I need to lie down," and lunged out of my wheelchair and on to the waiting room floor. The room went black and the ocean rushed into my ears. Bear was at my side, stroking my hands, which were pressed to my eyes. I tried to swallow, tried to still my gasping breaths and tried not to think about what I was lying in. The ocean slowly subsided. When I had recovered a bit, I realized that the waiting room was deserted and none of the staff had registered these new developments. Soon the orderly arrived again and stopped in confusion. When he left there were three people in the waiting room: two in wheelchairs with ankle injuries and one visitor. When he returned there was one visitor, one empty wheelchair, one patient lying on the floor, and the other patient and wheelchair were gone. He kept asking, "There was another one here, right?" I think the orderly was having a bit of a bad day. He and Bear got me back into my wheelchair and I went for x-rays with an excellent technician and back to the waiting room again. Closer to six-thirty I was feeling sick with dehydration and dizziness when the doctor finally returned to inform me that there was a suspicious line on my x-ray. He suspected that I had cracked a bone since the line on the x-ray matched up with where the worst of the pain was. I was to get a cast and come back in a week for further examination. Each time hospital staff complimented my hair or my dress I lamented, "I'm the worst bridesmaid in the world." I chose a cast in blue, to match Pug's wedding colors and was soon hobbling to the cab for home.
Events like this make me realize just how amazing my friends really are. Hel examined me and several others offered help. Africa fended off the hotel staff. Halo kept me calm and icy and drove my wheelchair through the hotel. Pug and her mom came to hug me as I left, Pug reassuring me that I was not the worst bridesmaid and that the party was nearly over anyways. Smacked and Flameboy drove me to hospital and sat with me for hours. They lent us cab fare and said to call if we needed anything. Hel brought my camera home. Foreman drove Bear's truck back to the party house and Kristus got up at 4:30 to put the keys in the mailbox for us. Bear sat with me through the night in emergency, slept over when we got home in case I needed anything, and even helped me to wash my hair in the morning. He decorated my cast with the title "The Best Bridesmaid Ever". He's so much more than an 'other', more than an emergency contact, more than my best friend. There's no option on a form to define us.
2004-08-2 || 8:57 a.m. |
