Wednesday, September 12, 2012

A Life Parable.

I'm not one to use sick days.

I think I have something like 400 hours of sick time accumulated; but I think I can count on one hand how many times I've called in to ANY job with a sickness.

Of course, in most of the theatres I worked at, there was no such thing as "sick days."  You were allowed to be sick on your own time.  But other than that, you got your ass on the stage and were as brilliant as you could be.

And the theatres I worked in that DID have understudies...well, more than once the understudy would come to me and beg me, BEG ME to never get sick.

Remind me to tell you about the time I worked in an outdoor drama for six weeks without being able to feel my legs; or doing two performances as Scrooge with a high fever and unable to speak above a whisper without coughing up my lungs; or the famous food poisoning incident of 1985.

Yeah.  I'm a tough guy.

Until yesterday.

I had a headache that turned into a migraine that turned into what can only be called a concussion. It radiated from behind my eyes, down the back of my neck and into my arms.  I tried to stay the course, but wound up bailing after 8 hours.

Went home, scared the wife that wasn't expecting my home at that hour, went to bed, and did not awaken until five o'clock in the afternoon.

With a headache.

But a bearable one this time.

Let that be a lesson to me.

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