May 15, 1982 . . . . the wedding that almost wasn’t. Well, let me rephrase that. I should say, ‘the wedding that was almost held at the hospital chapel.’
That’s right....hospital chapel - I had been admitted to the hospital 4 days before KJ and I got married. I had come home from work on Monday whining to my mom that my stomach hurt. And, it really wasn’t my stomach, it was this constant pain right under my breast bone. Later that night, my dad called our doctor and the doctor said, “Now Glenn, she’s getting married this weekend, it’s just nerves. Or, maybe she had something for lunch today that didn’t agree with her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” So off to bed I went and spent the next few hours talking to KJ on the phone. I mean hell, we were getting married in less than a week - we had lots to talk about!!
About midnight, I couldn’t take the pain any longer. I went upstairs to my parent’s bedroom and they were both still awake, reading. I was in tears as I told them how much pain I was in. My dad was in the process of getting up when my mom said, “No, I’ll take her.” Now, this was coming from a woman who seriously hated driving at night. She’d have rather had a root canal than have to drive at night. That night, she was the best mom in the world.
Once we got to the ER, it was quite obvious to the doctors that I was in immense pain. They got me hooked up to an IV and immediately gave me Demerol. Which I immediately proceeded to throw up. Finally, at 2am, they decided to admit me. My bloodwork came back fine but they had no idea why I was in such pain.
My mom, along with my future mother in-law, sat with me at the hospital all day. About 4pm, my dad called to see what the doctor had said. Well, the doctor hadn’t been in to see me, but when we were in the ER, they had told my mom my doctor knew I was there and would be there later on that morning. My dad immediately called my doctor who had no idea I was in the hospital. He came up after his office was closed for the day, ordered some bloodwork and did an exam on me. He immediately had me sent to the OR to be prepperd for surgery...my appendix was ready to burst.
While I was in surgery, KJ and my dad were checking out the hospital chapel, thinking we’d have to get married there! No way, I said. I begged my doctor to let me go home. So, on Friday, the day before I got married, he sent me home and KJ and I got married at 2pm the following afternoon . . . 3 days after I had major surgery. It was the shortest Catholic wedding in the history of Catholic weddings.
Those few days before our wedding should have been KJ’s first clue about what a whirlwind of chaos our life together would be. Instead of running away screaming in the opposite direction, he met me at the alter, ready to say “I do.”
28 years and two kids later, we’re still going strong. It’s been a lot of work but it’s also been a lot of fun. We’ve laughed and we’ve cried and yet it’s been worth every milestone and every speed bump we’ve had along the way. Marriage is never easy, it’s not always pretty and it’s not always pure bliss. But if you really love each other, if that person is the one you’re meant to be with, then you do what you have to do to make it work, to make the marriage as fresh as it was on that beautiful spring day when you said, “I do.”
Happy Anniversary, KJ . . .I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment