Ever since I joined this ship on December 12, people have been ill. Not vomitously disgustingly nauseous, as in the dreaded shipboard Norwalk virus, but just.... sick.
I tend to have my illness, be it cold, flu, or whatever, on an annual basis. About once a year, I'll be under the weather for a few days and then back to normal.
Not so much here. For the third time since I joined this ship, I have caught a mutation of the same frickin' malady that has pestered in this petri dish for God knows how long... and let me tell, you, the third time is the charm.
It has aimed for my throat before, but like a poor marksman it KEPT... MISSING... the TARGET. This time, it got me. Whammy. The other night in the midst of performing CINEMATASTIC! I was riding a bike around the stage whilst singing a ditty and repeatedly found myself losing track of where I was, physically. I nearly rode off stage left... then into the audience toward stage right. These errors were not so much that and audience member would notice, there was no need for abrupt correction, but in my head it was as though I was watching myself and trying to maneuver my body via a sluggish remote control. This, achiness, and then my throat was just plain finished. By the end of the second show I had nothing left - CINEMATASTIC is the most vocally demanding show for me, with big giant money notes that are higher than I even COULD sing not so many years ago, and if it weren't for soul-crushing alterations that I made and the efforts of a talented sound tech (Mark Taleski!) I would have been even more humiliated than I was. I was feverish, somewhat nauseous, and generally not much fun.
I went to the shipboard doc yesterday morning, which I tend to avoid like the plague. I figured "Since I HAVE the plague, I may as well see (one of) the doctor(s)." I had already told our line captain there was danger of me being "signed off" for the next day, which would entail rehearsals and stuff for the cast and a lot of big headaches for everyone. I did my best to avoid being signed off, and instead I got a pile of medications, which is unusual on ship. Usually, they give you a lozenge called "Strepsils" for everything ranging from a cold to a broken arm to feminine disorders. Not for a singer on a show day! No, it's an armload of pharmaceuticals ranging from plain old Sudafed to dispersible gargling aspirin to a range of anti-inflammatories and painkillers. I spent the day in my cabin, not speaking, also not studying the new show as I should have been. I'm downing hot throat-remedy tea by the gallon, with all the accompanying extras that are rumored or have worked in the past as remedies. Around 5pm I try to see what will come forth from my voice, and it's not sufficient to bring on the show. I know it's not. So I have one shot - literally - Glenfiddich. I had been recently given a nice bottle of the single malt scotch by our other male singer as a thank you for a favor, and I thought maybe a nice belt of that would turn the sounds of mucus to the sound of music. It worked! Like magic!
Fifteen minutes later, though, i was back where I started. Another sip of scotch - back on my game! I poured a healthy measure of the cherished, for special occasions only beverage into my "I Wish I Were Dead" coffee mug, because I'm just that classy. I took it to the show along with me, and told the line captain the scoop - I'm not going to get trashed, I said, but I am using this to get through the shows. I hope you'll be okay with this, because... well, it's what we've got to work with. Horribly unprofessional, perhaps, but you gotta do what you gotta do.
I called the sound booth - because for this show we're in a different theatre - and let our PM there, Andy Anderson, know that I could use his help. We are very lucky to have two excellent sound guys here, and Andy made last night a VERY easy sing for me. Both shows. So last night, I made it through the shows thanks to single-malt scotch and Andy Anderson.
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