My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,23
This is what I get for thinking that I could just do a shred gym class randomly like that. Honestly! I think the universe is against me! Every time I try to do something in attempts at losing weight, it blows up in my face. Or in this case, blown up in my legs.
Finally, Callum comes home to find me a gasping heap of a messy woman. “Paracetamol now!” Is the first thing I shout at him as he enters the bedroom.
“Did you start your period while I was away?” Laughing, Callum heads back out of the room.
“How can you laugh at my pain?” I grumble at him when he returns. Swiping the two pills out of his hand I swallow them sideways again.
Cough!
The medicine is stuck in my chest!
“Damn it, Em,” Callum grabs the glass of water off the nightstand. “At least have some water with those pills.”
Banging my chest with a fist I’m trying to get the medicine to go down my oesophagus. I’m determined to never sit up again if it means my legs won’t scream with pain!
“Oh fuck it.” I’m going to have to drink some water.
Callum kneels and helps me to sit up at least at a tolerable angle. I gulp down the contents of the entire glass that my fiancé tips to my lips. Crashing back down onto my pillow I sigh with momentary relief.
“I’m calling the GP.”
Callum stands up and fishes through the pocket of his trousers. His hand comes away with a phone in it and he starts dialling. After a heated conversation with the medical receptionist, all of her words of which I can hear, Callum finally explodes. “Look.” He grumbles down the phone line. “My fiancé can barely move and I demand a doctor visits her here immediately!”
“If you’re sure she can’t make it into the surgery.” I hear the receptionist’s whiney voice.
“Of course I’m sure!” Callum shouts. “I’ve been sure throughout this entirely useless conversation!”
I’d tell him to calm down, but I’m quite enjoying his chivalry.
Eventually, a doctor does come out to see me, but it’s at the end of a very painful day. He confirms that I’ve torn a muscle near my hamstring in my right leg and that I’ll need bed rest to heal.
Well, I could have guessed that. It’s not like I’m in any hurry to jump out of bed anyway.
The doctor leaves me with some faster acting painkillers that I’m grateful for.
“You heard the man, Em.” Callum sits beside me on the bed. “You get some rest, my love.”
The only words I can reply are mumbled sounds. “Mmmmm hmmmm.” My eyelids flutter closed. The doc did say the medicine I took could make me drowsy. I’m feeling so drowsy in fact that I barely notice when Callum slips out of bed.
Finally, I drift off into dreamland without an ounce of pain.
***
Days fly by. I think. I don’t know because I’m depressed. I think my legs are gradually on the mend, each time I wake, but I am one with pain now, so I prefer to dwell in my misery.
The nights all blend together as I sleep and wake. I’m pretty sure Callum helps me to the bathroom time after time. He also gets me to eat a bit when I can stomach the thought of food. I’m just so angry at my legs for failing me so catastrophically. I dread to think how much weight I’ll put on from having to lie around in bed!
I think a few days go by and I wake feeling okay in the legs. “Did I recently take some painkillers?” I mumble to Callum. It’s a bright Monday morning and he’s doing up his tie before heading to work.
“You ran out of pain medication days ago, honey.” He says. “Why, are your legs feeling better?”
What do I say to that? If Callum is being serious then it means my legs are indeed feeling a lot better. There’s barely a dull ache near my hamstring.
“You’ve been in bed for a week. I should think that’s enough time to heal.”
Now what did he just say? “I beg your pardon?”
Callum sniffs the air. “It’s okay love, I can’t smell your fart.”
“Oh you!” Sitting up all on my own I throw a pillow at him. “I didn’t ask for your pardon because I farted… which I didn’t! I asked you how long I’ve been in bed for.”
“A week!” Callum smiles, drops his tie and comes towards me. “And I’d say it was all the