How Food Poisoning Got Me Engaged

Scott always loves to ask me questions about when he first came home. He's a pretty nostalgic guy, and loves to reminisce about special little moments. This weekend he asked me when I knew I wanted to marry him. I gave him the romantic answer of: "I dunno... just seemed like it was right I guess." That answer right there is why Scott, days after we got engaged, exclaimed, "Kels, you're just not romantic!" when I burped after he told me how much he loves me...

I have been thinking about when I really knew, and for some reason I can only think of one specific time. I wish I could say this was a really tender, romantic moment, but really it was a mess. Literally, a MESS.

Scott and I went to dinner at State & Main, and, feeling adventurous, I opted out of my usual meat and potatoes (like a real man!) and went for a spinach and balsamic flatbread. I can honestly say this is one of the worst decisions I have ever made. After some weird flavours I couldn't quite place, and some unbelievably soggy spinach, I finally gave up on the dish and ate some of Scott's food. Scott entered that restaurant with a girlfriend and left with Satan's spawn. I was the definition of "hangry".

 We drove back to Cardston, and I knew my whining was driving Scott nuts. I decided to shut up before he changed his mind about ever wanting to be around me again. When we got back to his house his whole family seemed to be there. I had planned on staying over, but didn't realize just how many siblings would be staying there too. Scott has eight, by the way... yep. I decided it was probably better for me to just go home and settled down for some conversation and games. At first I was fine, but then something started to turn in my stomach. It wasn't nausea... It was just a really weird pinching feeling in my stomach. I've been having stomach problems since October, so I figured it was just another bout of cramping that I tend to get when I eat too much fatty food, dairy, or basically anything that's not a vegetable. I laid down on the couch while everyone talked around me, Scott rubbing my feet, and pretended like I was just "really tired" when in reality I was imagining the scene in Alien when she becomes impregnated by those aliens and it's super creepy.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up around 1 with Scott sleeping at the other end of the couch. I nudged him, told him I was driving home, and that I would see him the next day. Scott, being the nice guy he is, just told me to go sleep in his bed and that he would sleep on the couch so I wouldn't have to drive home so late. I countered that I didn't feel well and should probably just drive home. I stopped in mid sentence, looked at scott, and said:

"Scott, I think I'm si------"

I didn't get to finish that sentence before I was hurtling towards the bathroom fighting back projectile vomit. I'm not kidding, I have never barfed that hard in my entire life. I'm also not kidding when I say I didn't quite make it to the toilet. Aka I barfed all over his mother's bathroom wall. I curled up in the fetal position, thinking that this would be the last of my life. I heard Scott knocking softly on the bathroom door, "Kels?! Are you okay?!" I told him to "get out, don't come any closer!" and cleaned up the mess I had left. After I laid on the ground too afraid to move. I knew this war was not over, and I wasn't sure how prepared I was for it.

Some time passed and Scott attempted to come in but I wouldn't have it. We had been "re-dating" for three weeks, and even though I had dated him for years before, I felt like this was something no one should ever see. I had puke all over me, you guys. I started to cry from embarrassment, and puked some more. It was a horrible routine. I would curl up in a ball, puke, clean the toilet again so his mother would never know, and resume the position. I thought things were eventually getting better, but I was wrong.


The food had started to go down my digestive system, and suddenly I was faced with the dilemma. Those who have experienced this know what I'm talking about. Which takes priority? It's never an easy decision. I won't go into details but basically I was switching from front to back for about 20 more minutes. Along with that, I had also been puking so hard my nose had started bleeding.... So when I was crawling over to the cleaning supplies I realized I had been dripping blood all across his mothers bathroom mats. Sue, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I did this to your bathroom.

So where was Scott this whole time? He was coming in and out of the bathroom whenever there was an intermission between attacks, holding my hand, and bringing me a glass of water. By this point I just really didn't care, and being the drama queen I am, I wanted to see his face before I died. Eventually the storm passed and I tentatively left the bathroom in hopes of some sleep. What did Scott do? He held me close while I shook uncontrollably. I smelled like something that no one should ever smell, and he didn't say a word the entire time. That is love. I'm pretty sure he even kissed me once, as disgusting as that is. I remember constantly begging him to breath through his mouth, and apologizing for the mess I was.

"I had diarrhea and barfed at the same time..." I informed him. why did i bring this up?! I was seriously so delusional all night...

"I know... I could hear you."

"And you still love me?"

"Of course, don't be silly."

"Okay... Tell your mom I'm sorry I ruined her bath mats."

I then passed out for the night, but not before thinking about what he said. "Of course, don't be silly." Up until that point I had been silly and insecure, but some how puking and knowing that if Scott could handle holding someone who looked and smelled like... well, you know... that of course he could love me at other times too.

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