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#upta2017
kittywildegrrl · 8 years
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MAMA CAT CLAWS HER WAY BACK
Good afternoon from Memphis, darlings! My, but it’s been a while. As I await my delightful bloody Mary here in the friendly confines of the Sun Studio bar & grill on Concourse B, a full two hours before boarding, it seems like a good time to catch up.
Here’s what I started for you on the evening of January 18th:
Good evening, darlings. Here I sit at the bar of VYNL, waiting for the lovely and talented Sharps (Adam & Bethany), that we may dine and catch up. Yes that’s right, Mama’s back in Manhattan. Flying out tomorrow night for Minneapolis, where three Murder Mystery shows and a commercial shoot all await me this weekend.
As you may recall, when last I visited NYC, in October, I was waylaid by illness and spent about half of my month here laying on the couch and ordering Grub Hub. Not as much fun as it sounds, believe you me. The lovely and talented Shannon Haddock, and her equally lovely and talented husband Phillip, gave me not just a place to crash while in the city taking classes and doing auditions, they ended up allowing their living room to be a sick room. For this, I probably owe them like a trip to Europe or something.
That’s when Adam showed up and we got talking politics and Bethany arrived and we had a wonderful meal and good times and solved ALL of the theatre and ALL of the politics. The wine helped. They even bought me dinner. I have a lot of very awesome friends. And later that night, the dreadful Cold From Hell kicked in bigtime. I spent my last day in New York packing and resting up for the plane. Shannon met me at Caffe Reggio (thanks for the tea and carrot soup!) and helped me to the train to the airport. Later that night, I found out how fun it is to receive emergency medical treatment on a plane. Good times.
So the next day, Phil took me to the doctor. My doctor gave me 2 inoculations, a prescription for antibiotics, and a prescription for Prednisone (the miracle steroid). Well one man’s miracle is evidently a MamaCat’s nightmare. The day after finishing the prescription for Prednisone, I started to feel really, really awful. I had thought I was recovering, but ZOOM! Down the rabbit hole of symptoms I went. By 5:30 on a Saturday morning, we were frantically searching for which ER is “In Network” for us. I literally thought I was dying. I told my dog goodbye forever. I gave Phil my last wishes. I really, really thought this was the well-known “It”. I have never been so terrified in my life. It was two days before my 59th birthday and I was crying all the way to the hospital because I knew I would never live to see that birthday.
So we get to the ER, I’m barely able to function, and just as I was asking the admitting personnel, “Can I get some help” -- down I went in a heap. I had been falling down and dropping things for a few days now, and I was pretty sure we were about to find a brain tumor.
Four hours. Saline IV drip, CT scan, chest Xray, CBC, you name it. We probably ran out our entire [idiotically high] out-of-pocket in one morning. And they told me, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Feel free to scream if you wish. I just about did.
For you see, in MamaCat’s innocence and delirium, when they asked me if I felt like I was having mental issues, I didn’t stop with, “Yes, tremendous cognitive issues. I am having trouble (big pause while I reached for the words) accessing polysyllables. That’s not like me.” Oh no. Silly girl. They pursued with, “Are you depressed?” and like a fool, I said, “Yes, frankly, I’ve been experiencing depression since around 6pm on November 8th. You want to make me feel better, get me a REAL President.” The ER doctor, in her wisdom, said, “I’m a doctor. I can’t change who the President is. Do you understand that I can’t do that for you?” Oh, please. Really, ER doctor?? “So, do you feel like you’re losing your mind?” “Yes, I kind of do, that’s what it feels like. I’m certainly not myself.”
I had thought we were discussing what my symptoms felt like. That’s when it took a turn.
“Well, we can’t help you here. We don’t have appropriate facilities here to help someone with your issues. We’re going to hold you until 2pm, when the psychiatrist can accompany you to an appropriate facility.”
WHAT the actual FUCK???
Oh yeah.
They wanted MamaCat committed.
My husband refused their request on my behalf, I refused their request on my own behalf, and that’s when the ER doctor informed me, “I’m sorry We can’t let you go. You have to be moved to the appropriate facility, where they have people who can help you.” Sweet bleeding cheeses on the cracker. Can’t LET me go?! Wanna hear MY thoughts on the subject?!?!
Husband Cat, being the hero that he is, politely (and with Captain Kirk-level firmness) informed the staff that what his wife needed was to be on the couch at home with Nellie the Yaris. (Our rescue dog is the most unique mutt, so we gave her a breed name. She’s a One-Eyed Yaris.) And he was right! But they were pretty nasty about it. They thought they had landed ‘em a big ol’ Crazee and they were most reluctant to catch and release. Nevertheless, we went right the hell home, and I slept something like 20 of the next 24 hours. Also, the film and the gigs? Didn’t happen for me that weekend. You saw that coming, didn’t you?
When I woke up, I was SO much better. Weak as the proverbial kitten, but clear of mind and ready for coffee. The thing is, I had been so out of it that it never occurred to me to simply look up my symptom set online. Me. Little Miss Research. Didn’t think to go to the Google machine. Guess what? That’s one of the many, many symptoms of a bad Prednisone reaction. Here a few of the symptoms I experienced:
agitation
blurred vision
decrease in the amount of urine
dizziness
fast, slow, pounding, or irregular heartbeat or pulse
headache
irritability
mood changes
numbness or tingling in the arms or legs
pounding in the ears
shortness of breath
trouble thinking, speaking, or walking
troubled breathing at rest
abdominal or stomach pain
backache
cough or hoarseness
diarrhea
dry mouth
eye pain
fainting
fever or chills
heartburn or indigestion (severe and continuous)
increased thirst
loss of appetite
lower back or side pain
muscle pain or tenderness
muscle wasting or weakness
pain in the back, ribs, arms, or legs
painful or difficult urination
sweating
trouble healing
trouble sleeping
unusual tiredness or weakness
vision changes
(source: WebMD, drugs.com)
One MD, one EMT, 2 nurses, and a PA, and nobody thought “drug reaction”. We had brought them the very pill containers themselves, so that they would have complete information right up front as to what I had been taking. And they thought, “Crazy Lady must be Mental” before anybody thought, “drug reaction”.
(”We thought ‘Indian headdress’ before we thought ‘hat’” -- HIMYM)
Well, guess what? I’m fixin’ to find out if that’s actionable, cats and kittens. MamaCat don’t allow no BS ‘round here. Smells like malpractice.
Anyway… all I have now is the good old “UPTA flu,” which is contracted by bringing about 700 theatre makers together for a long weekend, on planes from all over, so we can all audition and hug and so forth. It’s been a fun winter for respiratory contagions of all varieties, all over the country, and those of us who have been on a lot of planes are having the most fun with that. And I have learned a little something about my relationship with Prednisone – I had been given a smaller Prednisone dosage in Cortland when I was so sick during KITCHEN WITCHES and had experienced milder versions of these symptoms, but never connected it with the steroid. I think it is not good for me. Good for some people, but not for MamaCat. 
Well, as I said to some beloved producers I saw at UPTA, I may as well avoid steroids altogether. If I want to switch careers to Major League Baseball, I’d never make it to Cooperstown if there were steroids involved. And the way my Minnesota Twins play, the MLB is a viable option for me.
Love you, darlings. Be well. Do good work. Meow.
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kittywildegrrl · 8 years
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Ah, Sun Studios bar and grill, we meet again. #actorslife #upta2017 #goinghome #auditionlife #travelinglife (at Memphis International Airport)
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