posted
The final curtain has fallen. It was a hell of a run. Big River is now a memory. A good memory but alas a memory none the less. These last 3 performances have been awesome. But, to give you a better picture of the people I have been working with these last few months I must take you back slightly further. To this past Wed. night. We had a Closed Performance for Arvest Bank. The day started off a little off kilter for me but I rolled with it. Then CURTAIN. Got through the opening number fine. Then I started having seizures. Unless one knows what to look for, they pass un-noticed. I ended up going to sleep shortly after the first number. I slept though the rest of Act 1 and woke up during intermission. I knew what was going on as soon as I woke because I was suffering from the after effects. I quietly passed the word to my fellow cast mates about my problem. Then came time for my scene. I made sure that those on stage with me knew what to do in case. I couldn't let my cast mates down. Nor the audience. Nor, to be honest, myself. These people, cast, audience, were dependent on me to perform. I WOULD not let them down. How I mustered the stamina to proceed, where it came from, I'll never know. The Director could find no flaw in my performance that night. Tech adjusted the usual lighting to exclude the variations in light on the spot. When I exited Stage Right, the Director was there waiting on me, asking if I was ok. To be honest, I was scared, upset and nearly in tears because I thought I had flubbed the scene. Every one was very concerned and they decided to call Susie to come get me. Later, they called her (I was in bed asleep at the time) to check on me. They dedicated the Finale to me. I spent the next day mainly sleeping off the effects of the seizures. With great trepidation, I went to the Center that night, fully expecting to be 'fired'. Instead, I was greeted with concern that I was ok, relief that I was ok. Acceptance.
That is a strange word for me. It is something I have had very little experience with in the last few decades of being an epileptic. Thinking of this, and writing this post even now brings tears to my eyes. Not of sadness. Not of anger. But of wonder. Of Awe of the people I have found. I have found a family and a home at the ACO.
For that I will forever be greatful.
My apologies for rambling like this. I am trying to share the joy I am feeling but my words are a pale comparison.
I just wanted to share.
Thank you for listening
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