Yep, wedding week.

But first I’m going to skip a little backwards and maybe a little forwards to continue on with my little story. 

I have frequently mentioned, ok boasted to MoD, that I have an exceptional high pain tolerance.

Post the ‘incident’ – that would be the car dooring – we have laughed about that one – its been clearly a BS statement. Apparently. 

I even googled to see what the worst pain fracture was.

Turns out it’s not a fractured clavicle, it’s a fractured femur.

Exactly what MoD had in 2018.

I don’t remember him whining like Moi of course.

Another grand statement I have been known to make is that ligament and tendon ruptures are far worse than fractured bones.

I’ve felt well equipped to make that statement given I have broken both arms at the same time and then the right arm again, right leg (twice), coccyx, right shoulder, torn my right ankle ligaments, torn thumb ligaments and ruptured my ACL. 

One could say I might be accident prone but it’s not really that.

It’s just life. As it has happened.

One might also say, the beauty of bad health is to recognise the gift of good health. 

Which I have certainly attempted to do but still managed to whine about. 

A lot.

Poor MoD. 

I’m pretty sure he didn’t sign up for this. 

Six weeks post the accident, I asked the fracture clinic why I might still have numbness in my arm, and strange nasty electric jolting sensations.

They diagnosed radial nerve damage and sent me off to the physio.

Who further diagnosed whiplash and frozen shoulder.

Commencing treatment for all.

All of the above were unfortunately missed by the hospital E.D and Radiology. 

Three weeks into physiotherapy I was sent for an ultrasound.

Turns out I have torn tendons in my shoulder. Both ends. 

I am redeemed!!!

And MoD….I stand by my previous claim.

Torn tendons are far worse than fractures.

Just sayin’. 

Of course we didn’t know that at the wedding.

Or for the next month when we were lucky enough to have time with friends and family who stayed on to explore this great country. 

For all intents and purposes I had a fractured clavicle.

Of course, it does explain why I don’t remember much of the wedding and felt like I was in over-the-top type of pain.  Why I had to lie down during the reception. Why I couldn’t eat anything and felt so unwell. Why I don’t remember from our first dance to the end of the evening.

I just hope our guests didn’t find me rude when I potentially either didn’t talk much to them or looked at them blankly when they talked to me.

Along with my high expectations of the dancing I was also very determined to get around and talk to everyone.

And I’m pretty sure I didn’t. 

It explains why I can’t remember as much as I would like to about having the privilege of spending such quality time with our friends and family post the wedding. I can’t even say I was drug induced, the 20 codeine ran out pretty fast and I don’t think paracetamol and ibuprofen really cause memory loss.

But I may be wrong. I am sure I was wrong once. Or twice. Or maybe a gazillion times.

Anyho, it is what it was…..

Acceptance. 

Our wedding week commenced with 1/3 of MoD’s American family arriving at ours. 

Exciting times. 

I hadn’t met Mitch and Lori’s sons or daughter in laws to be (exciting times with their oldest son actually popping the question in New Zealand). 

What an amazing family. 

Truly beautiful accepting loving human beings.❤️

I really had a wonderful time getting to know them all. 

Our neighbours were away and kindly let the ‘kids’ stay over. 

Mitch and Lori stayed with us, whether they wanted to or not. 😜

Naturally, the week of the wedding included a lot of beauty prep (this beauty isn’t effort free you know – or real for that matter😜).

Fake tan, false nails, false eyelashes, hair colour.

You know the deal for a post 60 year old.

All a little problematic with the loss of shoulder movement.

Hell I couldn’t even get dressed properly. 

I’ve had to go out and buy clothes that pull up from the bottom.

True shame (right 🤪) but had to be done. 

Anyway I definitely needed help to look like a bride. 

At my age. 

Nothing for MoD of course, perfect as he stood.

In between all of that, greetings and reuniting with our family and friends arriving from Aus.

We spent a lot of time at the airport.

My kids all arrived.

Best time of my life having us all together. 

Make no mistake about that. 

The day before the wedding it was all hands on deck as we had to set up the venue.

Turns out, regardless of the cost, you still have to do this yourself. Who knew?

The Inner Circle to the rescue along with Mitch and Lori.

We headed over to Akaroa in the morning and with so many hands to help, plus of course, yes, I had run sheets, we did the whole thing in good time.

Time enough to have a nice lunch at Akaroa before heading back to Chch for a wedding rehearsal. 

We chose Jellie Park for that, took all of 10 minutes, we were pretty chillaxed, and then headed into town for dinner with those who had travelled and were staying in town that night. 

Chosen venue was Little Fiddle, a cute little red box Irish Pub down one of the spectacular little lanes off The Terrace in Chch city.

Great choice, we had a side room and were well looked after by the manager and staff there.

Even a glass of champers for the bride.

That would be me….

And of course there is more to follow.

Just one post. 

I can’t torture you for too long.