For those that follow my instagram, you may know that I was in hospital over the weekend. My husband and I decided that I should try going to Emergency when I had my (may have lost count but I think it was my) sixth ovarian cyst rupture of the year. [Note: they did a blood test, poked around at my belly, and then told me to go get an ultrasound. But everyone was so helpful and it was just really nice to be taken so seriously about it that I didn't mind spending three odd hours there. I had a book.] Ovarian cyst ruptures are truly awful events, and I wouldn't wish them upon anyone. But perhaps more on that in a different post.
Anyway, yesterday, two days after I was in hospital, I headed to my cousin's wedding. And it was so beautiful (my cousin was radiant, her new husband dashing, and they made me laugh and cry a little with their vows and speeches). I am so grateful to have been invited to the event, and to have had enough spoons (please google 'the spoon theory' if you have no idea what I am talking about) to stay for the whole shindig.
But it took its toll. Even just when we left, I was having some bad symptoms. My interstitial cystitis was flaring a bit, my stomach was unhappy, and of course I was still recovering from having massive pain and nearly passing out two days beforehand. When we got there, I was feeling okay, but perhaps not what other people might call 'okay'. Perhaps, what they would call 'not so great' or 'a bit rough'. Luckily, I managed to grab a chair during the ceremony (helped), and was constantly offered chairs after the ceremony when we were waiting for the dinner (also helped). My husband was super solicitous of me, and even let me lean on him when I was too tired to hold myself up. People tried to lean in closer to me when they spoke so I didn't have to strain to hear them, or strain my voice to speak back. Drinks were bought for me so I wouldn't feel too faint.
And yet, in an ideal world where I am not unwell, this is not how I would really want to spend my time at my cousin's wedding. I would want to be standing and able to move around and chat to people. I would want to feel okay about going for a walk in the beautiful setting of the wedding. I would want to enjoy my lemon, lime, and bitters without having symptoms afterwards of tachycardia and dizziness. I say all of this without any bitterness (aside from my drink?) in my heart about this now being my lot in life (at the moment, anyway), but just with curiosity and more as an observation than a complaint.
Ultimately, weddings are kind of hard for a spoonie.
By the time Xin and I got back him, it was around 10:30pm or so, and we had been gone for eight hours. Even now, the day after that has been filled with stomach pain, exhaustion, and anxiety fallout, I am unsure how I managed it. I think even Xin is a little unsure how I managed it. When Xin and I got married last year, I was pretty sick during our honeymoon. My stomach was hating on me pretty bad, and I was more exhausted than usual for basically the entire three weeks we were away. It was just too much. A few of the spoonie friends I invited pretty much immediately declined - knowing their own limits straight away and realising that going to a wedding would just be too hard. This is where spoonie lifestyle and family obligation kind of meet, and it isn't always pretty.
I am not entirely sure what I wanted to say in this blog post, aside from recording my experience of what has happened recently. I have been on painkillers and such all day today, just so I could avoid being curled up in the foetal position all day, just trying to rest. I don't know if this is what will always happen at weddings, but I am glad and so grateful I got to go to this one.
Love to all who read.