{Thursday} Guest Post: Julie of Rosy + Tart on her most memorable vacation

As most of you know, I'm in New York City this week attending the Independent Fashion Bloggers Evolving Influence Conference. Mostly,, though, I'm dodging the rain. NYC has gotten over five inches since I arrived on Tuesday, which does not do awesome things for my hair, which is why you will probably not see outfit photos from me, because I'm mortified.

Lucky for you, I've arranged a few fantastic guest posts to share with you while I'm gone. Today, say hello to Julie of the blog Rosy + Tart! Julie had quickly become one of my closest friends here in Dallas. She's funny, and smart, and generally a joy to be around. I am sure you'll love her too!

Oh hey kids! I'm Julie from rosy + tart and I'll be your cruise director guest post aficionado for the day. Elissa and I go way back... like... to March of this year. She's one of a few amazing women I've met thanks to this crazy blogosphere. Luckily, she & I both live in the Metroplex so you might see us out at happy hour or something on occasion. Not that we A.) like happy hour or B.) like to shop for sparkly, shiny things or anything absurd like that... *cough*...

Anywho, I've been asked to share my most memorable vacation with you guys. And boy... do I have a doozy.

I got married in October 2009. The future hubs (Brett) and I had traveled to St. Lucia in December 2008 to celebrate his graduation from college and my graduation from business school and I loved it. It was my first trip out of the States and I couldn't get enough of the perfectly tropical beach, fruity drinks with umbrellas in them and swim up bars as far as the eye could see.

... needless to say, I wanted to go back to the Caribbean for our honeymoon.

So we decided to go to Antigua. More perfectly tropical beaches, more fruity drinks with umbrellas in them and even more swim up bars as far as the eye could see. The trip started out innocent enough. We spent a few days just soaking up the sun and relaxing by the pool... it's all I wanted to do after spending a year planning the wedding. We went snorkeling... even though the waters were infested with baby jellyfish.

... by the way, I don't recommend doing that unless you want to attempt walking on water back to the boat. I didn't know I could move that fast.

Anyway, three days into the trip, Brett starts coming down with some sort of stomach bug. I didn't think too much of it until he practically turned down a steak dinner one night. The man has never turned down a steak dinner. I figured we'd load him up with fluids and see if the resort had a doctor on call.

The next day? He spent it in bed. Yeah. The whole day. Fortunately, it was a Saturday and we got all the American channels... so I got my fill of college football on our honeymoon after all. But still, he insisted he was okay... just not feeling well enough to get out and about.By the time we were scheduled to head to the airport, it was pretty clear that this stomach bug had taken a big, nasty turn. He couldn't keep anything down, he was cold all the time and his heart was beating like crazy.

... and then our flight was seven hours late, forcing us to stay in Miami overnight due to a missed connector and then, oh yeah, everything was closed so getting food was practically impossible. All I wanted to do was get him back on U.S. soil to find a doctor. That was the main goal.

Brett kept getting worse. By the time we got back to the Miami airport, I almost had to carry him. (PS: I'm 5'5" and he's 6'1".) Our original flight was like this: Antigua --> Miami --> Dallas. Our new itinerary was Antigua --> Miami --> Houston --> Dallas. He kept saying he was okay... just get him home. By the time we got to Houston, he could barely walk. I didn't know what to do. At least we were in Texas and we had friends in Houston. I contemplated calling them to come pick us up so we could go to the hospital. Looking back, I should have. But the AA people kept saying our flight was next, even though it was repeatedly delayed... in the end, it would've been faster for us to have rented a car and driven back to Dallas than it was to sit there and be lied to for 5 hours.

When we got to Dallas, Brett started panicking, saying he couldn't breathe. I could feel his heartbeat coming from the top of his head. What kind of stomach bug was this?!

I carried Brett off the plane and screamed for paramedics. They immediately took his blood sugar readings and sure enough... it was so high he was almost at the 'comatose stage.'


Brett is Type I diabetic. He's known this for ten years. I knew this. What I didn't know was that he had forgotten his night time insulin and failed to tell me about it the entire trip. I didn't know until we'd taken a quick trip to the hospital via ambulance, spent two hours in the ER and stepped onto the elevator with the doctor, nurse, his parents and myself... with him strapped to a bed. It was at this point he decided to come clean and admit he'd forgotten his insulin. And the whole elevator full of people looked directly at me as if I had something to do with it.

... I nearly jumped up on that bed and strangled him myself.

It's called ketoacidosis. Basically, his body didn't have insulin (even though he was taking his daytime shots like normal) and it had started using fat as a fuel source. He thought that by keeping close watch of his food/drink and blood sugar readings, he'd be okay. Stupid? Absolutely. He nearly killed himself trying to keep his new wife happy. Do I have nightmares about this whole experience? All the time. I still get leery and nervous when he has to travel. It brings up all the memories and anger... and there's still a lot of both.

Needless to say, our honeymoon got extended a full week where we got to stay at the luxurious Baylor Regional Medical Center Grapevine.

In case you're wondering, Brett has since gotten an insulin pump that keeps him regulated and his blood sugar much more normal. He's healthier, happier and I'm able to sleep at night knowing he's much better off now than he was when we got married.

Moral of the story: don't do something stupid and risk your own health & safety just to keep those you love happy. Because when you do, there's a good chance that once that loved one recovers from the trauma, she's going to want to kick your ass ninja style all the way to the moon. Twice.

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  1. Oh, man. That *sucks* -- and that's coming from someone that had a similarly sucky honeymoon. We had a great week planned in Clearwater, FL, at a resort and spa, when the day after we arrived my husband became incredibly sick. More explicitly, his nether regions felt like they were being gnawed on my a pack of wolves. I was in the middle of a self indulgent spa morning the first I heard of it -- when I came out of my massage, he was hunched over in the lobby, looking like he wanted to die. Now, my husband WORKS at a hospital, so he knows when things get serious. However, he's a typical "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine" tough guy, so he neglected to tell me that he was feeling bad even before we got to the hotel the day before; he just thought it would "get better" on its own. Turns out he had a major bacterial infection of the epididymitis. There was no reason for it, it just happened, but the poor guy was in so much pain. We stayed at the ER for a few hours, they pumped him full of morphine, and then gave him a prescription to take, which basically turned him into a slug for the rest of the week. We made the most of our stay there, and even managed to make it out of the hotel a couple times, but yeah. Not the funnest trip I've ever had.

  2. How scary! My husband is Type II and recently changed to meds that were dropping his sugar into the 50's. Way too low! Glad you have things regulated, the pumps are the way to go for people who need multiple doses a day.

  3. Oh, my gosh.. That is SO. SCARY!!!! So glad he was okay!!!!!!!!!


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