As I mentioned a while back, I was in a senior thesis production this semester. It was a two character play called Running by Arlene Hutton. I took on the role because I needed to have a creative outlet while pushing through my last year at WAC. It was a tolling process and there were many times, like two weeks ago when I could barely stand without fainting, when I thought that I had made a horrible mistake when I committed to the show. I was terrified of fainting on stage or falling into a brain fog period while performing. I took a major gamble.
The crew worked to develop a plan for every possible situation that could arise. I had an understudy ready to take my place in the worst case scenario and the ushers and house managers were alerted to the possibility of a potential episode. I had a heart monitor on the whole time and the stage manager monitored my heart throughout the performance, with a threshold in mind for an indiction that I was symptomatic. We even had a "fainting kit" with water, salt, my medicine, and a teddy bear ready backstage. We ran drills and had charts ready. We were prepared. Our hope was that if we were prepared for every potential outcome, nothing could go wrong.
We had three performances; an open dress rehearsal and two shows. I was on stage for 90 minutes straight. I stood up from the couch on the set several times throughout the show and I even sat on the floor a couple times. I yelled in anger while standing twice. I was hitting all my triggers. And yet, the syncope gods were smiling on me and I made it through every performance without ever fainting. Did I black out and lose vision a few times? Yup. Did my heart rate skyrocket every time I stood? Yup. But to everyone in the audience, I was a perfectly healthy 40 year old woman from London whose husband cheated on her. It was simply brilliant.
After both performances I fainted. I'm utterly exhausted and have a bit of a cold, but I'm proud of what I did. I wasn't sure when I signed up for this that I would be about to perform out of the wheelchair, but for the 90 minutes every night, I got to be healthy. (Terrified of my body letting me down in front of a hundred people, but that's besides the point). It felt so good to be on stage again and prove to myself that I could do this. I can live a full life, even if it isn't the life I used to live.
In the show, a major theme is the idea of breaking through your personal walls and finishing your race. At one point, my character asks the other character, Stephen, why he signed up for a marathon and his response is "To prove that I could do it." Lots of people questioned me when I took on this role. It was a gamble and a huge time commitment. It was dangerous and seemed a little crazy to some people. I wanted to get back on stage and do something that I loved again, but I also wanted, and frankly, NEEDED, to prove that I could do it. I needed to prove that my illness wasn't holding me prisoner in my own life. I was making my own decisions and doing what made me happy. I needed to finish my race.
Ending the show was satisfying and relieving. It will be very nice to have more free time and the ability to relax a bit. I have Fall Break next week and I'm really looking forward to resting, I can feel my body begging for exactly that. I can't run a marathon, I still succumb to my illness with some limitations but it will not be an unbreakable wall.
The crew worked to develop a plan for every possible situation that could arise. I had an understudy ready to take my place in the worst case scenario and the ushers and house managers were alerted to the possibility of a potential episode. I had a heart monitor on the whole time and the stage manager monitored my heart throughout the performance, with a threshold in mind for an indiction that I was symptomatic. We even had a "fainting kit" with water, salt, my medicine, and a teddy bear ready backstage. We ran drills and had charts ready. We were prepared. Our hope was that if we were prepared for every potential outcome, nothing could go wrong.
We had three performances; an open dress rehearsal and two shows. I was on stage for 90 minutes straight. I stood up from the couch on the set several times throughout the show and I even sat on the floor a couple times. I yelled in anger while standing twice. I was hitting all my triggers. And yet, the syncope gods were smiling on me and I made it through every performance without ever fainting. Did I black out and lose vision a few times? Yup. Did my heart rate skyrocket every time I stood? Yup. But to everyone in the audience, I was a perfectly healthy 40 year old woman from London whose husband cheated on her. It was simply brilliant.
My mom and sister came for the weekend to see both shows.
My amazing group of WAC friends came too.
Saturday, Fabiola and Hannah came with the best surprise I could've gotten: Kate. They stayed the night and met my WAC friends. It was the best collision of my two worlds ever. I was so giddy.
After both performances I fainted. I'm utterly exhausted and have a bit of a cold, but I'm proud of what I did. I wasn't sure when I signed up for this that I would be about to perform out of the wheelchair, but for the 90 minutes every night, I got to be healthy. (Terrified of my body letting me down in front of a hundred people, but that's besides the point). It felt so good to be on stage again and prove to myself that I could do this. I can live a full life, even if it isn't the life I used to live.
In the show, a major theme is the idea of breaking through your personal walls and finishing your race. At one point, my character asks the other character, Stephen, why he signed up for a marathon and his response is "To prove that I could do it." Lots of people questioned me when I took on this role. It was a gamble and a huge time commitment. It was dangerous and seemed a little crazy to some people. I wanted to get back on stage and do something that I loved again, but I also wanted, and frankly, NEEDED, to prove that I could do it. I needed to prove that my illness wasn't holding me prisoner in my own life. I was making my own decisions and doing what made me happy. I needed to finish my race.
Ending the show was satisfying and relieving. It will be very nice to have more free time and the ability to relax a bit. I have Fall Break next week and I'm really looking forward to resting, I can feel my body begging for exactly that. I can't run a marathon, I still succumb to my illness with some limitations but it will not be an unbreakable wall.
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