let us be undeniable
in our love
let us be fearless
and baldly resolute
unflinching and reckless and true
let us sound all alarums
let our presence be known
so no one may say
this is too young
this never can last
but let them find nothing
in our hearts
that lacks for fire
let us be fierce
let us be an embarrassment
we shall cling in the centre of the room
and be as fireworks
twinkling in the eyes
of them all
who deny
for they shall look upon
us defiantly hungry
mouths agog
and say
ah
yet
let us be still
and let us be secret
so no one may know
what jewel we twirl
or kitten we kiss
in a tangled embrace
of darkness
rocking
them all
away
oh let us be undeniable
in the marketplace
in the streets
in the parlour
and in our
big
burning
hearts
Monday, September 5, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
PINK EYE
It either all started when I stayed up all night in Toronto, or visiting my dad at the hospital.
I had started rehearsals for a play, a British Bedroom farce. At the end of the first week, I woke up in the morning with a tickle in my eye. It looked vaguely pink so I called the doctor and ended up at the walk-in clinic. After a 2.5 hour wait, the doctor told me she sees this sort of thing 5-10 times a day, use this cream daily, and it will be gone in 2 days.
2 days later, I walk into rehearsal and everyone asks me first thing, "How's the eye?" lifting up my sunglasses I say, "Looks worse, feels better."
That night I go back to the walk-in clinic. I wait 3 hours. A different doctor sees me. I show her the cream. "I don't know what that is, but you have pink eye and I usually prescribe this other cream. Use it daily, and the pink eye will be gone in 2 days.
2 days later, I walk into rehearsal and everyone asks me, "How's the eye?" I lifted up my sunglasses, "Looks worse, feels better." It's now spread to the left eye.
My parents tell their friends who have a private doctor. They will get their doctor to see me. I opt to go downtown to the hospital Friday after rehearsal and wait 6 hours in a packed waiting room with a homeless guy who has a scarf tied around his head wandering around bumping into furniture.
Finally getting through, I wait again in the back room and watch the shift change. I ask a nurse for a glass of water. A different nurse brings me a glass of water half an hour later.
I see the specialist and she looks into my eyes.
She tells me that if it's pink eye, it's the worst she has ever seen. She calls another specialist at another hospital who will see me tomorrow at 11:30. I tell her, I can't go, I have rehearsal. She tells me that she's worried about my eye, "This is your health we're talking about." She strongly recommends I go to the appointment.
The next day I come to rehearsal. Everyone asks me, "How's the eye?" I lift up my sunglasses, "Worse. Much worse."
We have a short break in the morning and they work another scene so I can make it to the appointment with the specialist. I only wait for one hour.
He takes me in and sits me in front of the machine. He looks in one eye. He looks in the other eye. He puts a brown dye in my eyes, and it drips down my cheeks. He shines a blue light into my eyes. The left. The right. He turns off the machine and washes his hands.
"You have a very bad viral pink eye infection."
"What does that mean."
"Its extremely contagious, and it's very strong. It won't respond to any treatment or cream. You just have to let it run its course. You'll have to take about 2-3 weeks off work, and stay away from people."
"That's not possible, I'm opening a show in four days."
"I am advising you strongly to take at least two weeks away from work or any public space until the infection goes away or dies down. It's obviously a very strong strain and could spread easily. You may have already passed it on to your coworkers. Isn't there someone that can do you part until it's gone?"
"No. There isn't. Listen man, this is the longest contract I've had in ages. This one job basically makes my year. If I can't do this, I don't-"
"I've told you what you need to do. I'll just give you some of time to process it." He left.
It was like a death sentence. What was I going to do? Last year I'd broken my leg and had to lose work because of it. How could this happen again? I had to do the show. What if it spread to the other actors? The crew? It was a dinner theatre, what about the kitchen staff or the buffet? If it got into the food could it start a whole epidemic, was it really that contagious? No one had caught it yet. But what if they all had it already? They all needed this work as much as me.
The doctor came back in and I asked every possible situation that would help. "What if I cut out my eye?"
"But its in both eyes."
I walked out to the hallway of the hospital and called the stage manager. I had my sunglasses on and brown tears were streaming down my face.
I told her what the doctor said. I told her I didn't think I should come back to the building.
She told me to come down and they would talk about it.
By this time, my eyes were so extremely sensitive to the sun, and it was so bright, that I had to drive back to the theatre with my ballcap and two pairs of sunglasses on. I would hold my hands up on either side of my eyes and steer my car with my elbows.
The Director, the Production Manager, everyone came down, it was by now just after lunch. I stood in the rehearsal room, sunglasses on, brown streaks on my face and tissues in my hands. I told everyone what the doctor said, word for word. And awaited the reaction.
"If we haven't caught it yet, it's not going to happen. We'll be careful. No touching. Cut the kisses. And hand sanitizer. Hand sanitizer. Hand sanitizer."
We ran the show. Our last full run before moving on to the stage. The cast from the previous show came to watch. I wore my sunglasses. We mimed kisses and hits. And we doused ourselves in hand sanitizer between every scene. And every time I was on stage with someone I would gaze into the whites of their eyes, subconsciously looking for a hint of pink moving in from the corners.
They gave me the next day off and the following day was Monday. I slept the entire time.
I wandered aimlessly around the house, cold compresses on my eyes, bumping into the furniture.
Tuesday morning I came into the theatre for Q 2 Q. Everyone asked me, "How's the eye?"
I lifted up my sunglasses.
"Better. A little bit better."
"That's good."
"Yes. Yes it is."
I have never before in my life felt so grateful for living and working with the amazing people of the theatre. Our first preview, my first show without sunglasses on, went great and by opening even up close my eyes looked pretty normal.
We suffered many sickness together
including morning sickness
but no one caught the pink eye
On closing night the set came down within three hours as we sat with drinks and talked about it all.
We are show people. And the show goes on.
I had started rehearsals for a play, a British Bedroom farce. At the end of the first week, I woke up in the morning with a tickle in my eye. It looked vaguely pink so I called the doctor and ended up at the walk-in clinic. After a 2.5 hour wait, the doctor told me she sees this sort of thing 5-10 times a day, use this cream daily, and it will be gone in 2 days.
2 days later, I walk into rehearsal and everyone asks me first thing, "How's the eye?" lifting up my sunglasses I say, "Looks worse, feels better."
That night I go back to the walk-in clinic. I wait 3 hours. A different doctor sees me. I show her the cream. "I don't know what that is, but you have pink eye and I usually prescribe this other cream. Use it daily, and the pink eye will be gone in 2 days.
2 days later, I walk into rehearsal and everyone asks me, "How's the eye?" I lifted up my sunglasses, "Looks worse, feels better." It's now spread to the left eye.
My parents tell their friends who have a private doctor. They will get their doctor to see me. I opt to go downtown to the hospital Friday after rehearsal and wait 6 hours in a packed waiting room with a homeless guy who has a scarf tied around his head wandering around bumping into furniture.
Finally getting through, I wait again in the back room and watch the shift change. I ask a nurse for a glass of water. A different nurse brings me a glass of water half an hour later.I see the specialist and she looks into my eyes.
She tells me that if it's pink eye, it's the worst she has ever seen. She calls another specialist at another hospital who will see me tomorrow at 11:30. I tell her, I can't go, I have rehearsal. She tells me that she's worried about my eye, "This is your health we're talking about." She strongly recommends I go to the appointment.
The next day I come to rehearsal. Everyone asks me, "How's the eye?" I lift up my sunglasses, "Worse. Much worse."
We have a short break in the morning and they work another scene so I can make it to the appointment with the specialist. I only wait for one hour.
He takes me in and sits me in front of the machine. He looks in one eye. He looks in the other eye. He puts a brown dye in my eyes, and it drips down my cheeks. He shines a blue light into my eyes. The left. The right. He turns off the machine and washes his hands.
"You have a very bad viral pink eye infection."
"What does that mean."
"Its extremely contagious, and it's very strong. It won't respond to any treatment or cream. You just have to let it run its course. You'll have to take about 2-3 weeks off work, and stay away from people."
"That's not possible, I'm opening a show in four days."
"I am advising you strongly to take at least two weeks away from work or any public space until the infection goes away or dies down. It's obviously a very strong strain and could spread easily. You may have already passed it on to your coworkers. Isn't there someone that can do you part until it's gone?"
"No. There isn't. Listen man, this is the longest contract I've had in ages. This one job basically makes my year. If I can't do this, I don't-"
"I've told you what you need to do. I'll just give you some of time to process it." He left.
It was like a death sentence. What was I going to do? Last year I'd broken my leg and had to lose work because of it. How could this happen again? I had to do the show. What if it spread to the other actors? The crew? It was a dinner theatre, what about the kitchen staff or the buffet? If it got into the food could it start a whole epidemic, was it really that contagious? No one had caught it yet. But what if they all had it already? They all needed this work as much as me.
The doctor came back in and I asked every possible situation that would help. "What if I cut out my eye?"
"But its in both eyes."
I walked out to the hallway of the hospital and called the stage manager. I had my sunglasses on and brown tears were streaming down my face.
I told her what the doctor said. I told her I didn't think I should come back to the building.
She told me to come down and they would talk about it.
By this time, my eyes were so extremely sensitive to the sun, and it was so bright, that I had to drive back to the theatre with my ballcap and two pairs of sunglasses on. I would hold my hands up on either side of my eyes and steer my car with my elbows.
The Director, the Production Manager, everyone came down, it was by now just after lunch. I stood in the rehearsal room, sunglasses on, brown streaks on my face and tissues in my hands. I told everyone what the doctor said, word for word. And awaited the reaction.
"If we haven't caught it yet, it's not going to happen. We'll be careful. No touching. Cut the kisses. And hand sanitizer. Hand sanitizer. Hand sanitizer."
We ran the show. Our last full run before moving on to the stage. The cast from the previous show came to watch. I wore my sunglasses. We mimed kisses and hits. And we doused ourselves in hand sanitizer between every scene. And every time I was on stage with someone I would gaze into the whites of their eyes, subconsciously looking for a hint of pink moving in from the corners.
They gave me the next day off and the following day was Monday. I slept the entire time.
I wandered aimlessly around the house, cold compresses on my eyes, bumping into the furniture.
Tuesday morning I came into the theatre for Q 2 Q. Everyone asked me, "How's the eye?"
I lifted up my sunglasses.
"Better. A little bit better."
"That's good."
"Yes. Yes it is."
I have never before in my life felt so grateful for living and working with the amazing people of the theatre. Our first preview, my first show without sunglasses on, went great and by opening even up close my eyes looked pretty normal.
We suffered many sickness together
including morning sickness
but no one caught the pink eye
On closing night the set came down within three hours as we sat with drinks and talked about it all.
We are show people. And the show goes on.
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