pity party update

“i’m not a doctor, i just play one on tv,”, is a tag-line popularized by a series of american commercials. 
some well-known tv doctors(some famous tv doctors)

well, seeing that i play a doctor on tv, each time i’m ill is an opportunity for research. i check out the doctor’s office and bedside manner, looking for tips to make my portrayal more believable. 

today’s doctor, though, is not someone i’d like to emulate for my character; bored, disinterested, reading her paper on a messy desk, eating, more interested in a previous conversation with the nurse. not an ounce of empathy. 

i try to pick up what i can, but i’m not really interested in being a “method actor” – there are other ways of being believable – so right now there’s way too much of a parallel between shooting scenes of my character getting sick and feeling this miserable myself. 

at least the day is looking up. the runner picked up my meds for me (i’m not even going to go into what this is costing!) and the publicist managed to get the magazine shoot postponed. it still feels like i’m swallowing rocks, and we’re running about 2 hours behind schedule in the studio, but at least i can go straight to bed from here.


pity party

ok. at this point i’m feeling very sorry for myself.

before i went to bed last night, i gargled with warm salt-water, i cooked with as much garlic as i could stand, echinacea’ed as much as i could, went to bed by 9 and slept for at least 10 hours.

woke up feeling miserable. throat full of razor-blades, lungs on fire and full of gunk, lymph nodes painfully swollen, my face feeling as tight as that character from the movie “brazil”, though thankfully no longer raw.

no kidding - it feels like that.

angi puts on my make-up and my skin feels thick, my face a bit more swollen than yesterday. it feels like she’s applying my make up through cardboard. i see some hyper-pigmentation forming along my jawline. i have a lot more thoughts about his micro-laser-peel, but more about that at another time.

i rush back over to the work doctor before my first scene and she diagnoses me with pharyngitis – an upper respiratory infection. my system seems to be in shock. i get another script for antibiotics. i foresee more gymnastics for my credit card, but at this point i’ll do anything to feel better. 

oh, and i have a magazine photo shoot this afternoon as soon as i finish shooting my scenes for the day. yeah. right.

oh woe is me.

what was i thinking?!

i wake up this morning – 5 days after my micro-laser peel and periorbital resurfacing – and as i’m washing off the antiseptic powder around my eyes, i realize that putting make-up on today would be insanity. the swelling has gone down considerably, though i’m still moon-faced, looking like i’m wearing a polynesian mask and  the orbital area is still crusty. being in the raw takes on a whole new meaning!

i call CENSORED only to discover that he wanted me to keep the powder in place. i don’t think he has any idea of the fact that even the tiniest blemish shows up 1000 times magnified under the studio lights.

i call magda, the production manager. it really sucks because i know how disruptive this is to the production schedule, but i think that it will be crazy for me to shoot today. after what happened saturday night, i realize that i run the risk of getting even further infected. magda’s not happy, but knows that this was unforeseen.

i feel so foolish.

i turn on the tv and leona lewis is singing, “it’ll all get better with time”.

i hope so – and sooner than later, because time is not on my side.