Thursday, after running through the songs with the selected soloists, where I did a few adjustments on the selections and gave them notes about the songs and how to sing them, I told each of them that I didn't want Friday night's performance to be a dress rehearsal. I wanted them off-book and into a full performance.
I wanted them to imagine that they were opening in New York and that the audience expected their money's worth.
That night, we went to a restaurant downtown to have dinner with people from the PFLAG-Olympia board of directors.
By now, I was feeling very weak. I still wasn't feeling the kind of intense pain yet, so I kept my fingers crossed that this would be a mild attack, but knowing I had a full day of rehearsal ahead of me followed by a performance that night and one the following night, I was definitely scared.
I tried not to relate this to Gabi and Alec as we drove around, but they knew I wasn't in good shape.
At the dinner, I found myself needing to pee about every five or ten minutes. After a few times, though, it started to feel different. I began feeling a familiar tickling. Wait. I knew this feeling.
This is what it felt like, before, when the stone was exiting. It's hard to describe but it's very specific.
By this time, I was at my weakest, but a glimmer of hope was starting to pop up.
At the table, I kept slugging back water, WILLING this all to be true, that the worst was actually over and that I would not have to be hauled to the ER.
Every five or ten minutes, I'd get up. Go pee. Get back. Get up. Go pee. Over and over.
Somewhere in the middle of all that -- I was sitting next to a very kind lady who was aware of my distress and worrying about me -- I returned from the bathroom and felt a slight wave of relief. Could it be? Dare I hope?
But, yes, I felt better. I was afraid to declare the emergency over, but I was hopeful.
The next morning, Friday, when I woke up, I felt totally normal and back to full strength! I had done it!
Later, before rehearsal, we took a walk through the Farmer's Market down near the port of Olympia.
NEXT: The Friday night performance.
I wanted them to imagine that they were opening in New York and that the audience expected their money's worth.
That night, we went to a restaurant downtown to have dinner with people from the PFLAG-Olympia board of directors.
By now, I was feeling very weak. I still wasn't feeling the kind of intense pain yet, so I kept my fingers crossed that this would be a mild attack, but knowing I had a full day of rehearsal ahead of me followed by a performance that night and one the following night, I was definitely scared.
I tried not to relate this to Gabi and Alec as we drove around, but they knew I wasn't in good shape.
At the dinner, I found myself needing to pee about every five or ten minutes. After a few times, though, it started to feel different. I began feeling a familiar tickling. Wait. I knew this feeling.
This is what it felt like, before, when the stone was exiting. It's hard to describe but it's very specific.
By this time, I was at my weakest, but a glimmer of hope was starting to pop up.
At the table, I kept slugging back water, WILLING this all to be true, that the worst was actually over and that I would not have to be hauled to the ER.
Every five or ten minutes, I'd get up. Go pee. Get back. Get up. Go pee. Over and over.
Somewhere in the middle of all that -- I was sitting next to a very kind lady who was aware of my distress and worrying about me -- I returned from the bathroom and felt a slight wave of relief. Could it be? Dare I hope?
But, yes, I felt better. I was afraid to declare the emergency over, but I was hopeful.
The next morning, Friday, when I woke up, I felt totally normal and back to full strength! I had done it!
Later, before rehearsal, we took a walk through the Farmer's Market down near the port of Olympia.
You can see the state capital building on the left. |
Even better view of the state capital building. |
My heroes, Gabi & Alec Clayton. |
Look! Starfish! |
Mushroom starter kit! |
1 comment:
Ned needs Monkey Farts bath salts.
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