Health and wellness

 Twenty seven years ago today, I had my right kidney removed.  

Physically, it definitely weakened my immune system.  I used to get sick twice a year, and now every sort of plague is visited upon me several times a year.  Emotionally it was even more devastating.

For those of you who don't know the story, here it is. (If you do or don't care, maybe this isn't the blog for you). I was in a very popular production of a rock and roll version of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at the Bathhouse theatre in Seattle.  It ran forever, and kept getting extended. One morning I woke up and was barely able to get out of bed before I was doubled over in excruciating pain.  I spent most of that day on the floor of my apartment unable to move. My then wife (name omitted to protect the innocent) came home from work to find me there and took me to the ER. I was diagnosed with kidney stones (it wasn't) and passed what I thought were stones (that were actually blood clots). They did all kinds of tests and got fluids in me. They sent me to a specialist and told me to keep hydrated.  I finished up the show while spending my days seeking second and third opinions. 

As Midsummer ended, I had the opportunity to do a one man show about Henry David Thoreau, that I had been working on for years, at the Bathhouse.  They were featuring fringe type shows, and Arne liked me and the concept and he gave me a slot.  This is when I was officially diagnosed with the cancer and told my kidney had to come out. "The sooner the better!" I told my doctor that I had this slot in a month to do a show for a couple of weeks, and "if I die on the table, I want to have done this." I was very earnest. My doctor got it.  He was pretty cool and told me that I had to live my best life and that a month wouldn't really change anything. (I heard the unsaid part. Kidney cancer is basically a death sentence).

So I went to work in earnest on "Castles in the Air." And I have to say that month being one with the works of Thoreau, developing a one man show while thinking I was finishing my journey was quite something. Little did I know at the time that I was merely preparing my cocoon, from which I would emerge a completely different life form. I felt alive in a way I hadn't before. I was journaling, and connecting with people on a whole new level...most people.  And I did the show!  My friend Fara ran lights for me. (She and her husband are the only two people from that time that I have actually seen in person and even worked with since my departure.  They are the best).  

So they took my kidney out. It wasn't cancer (my doctor had actually never seen anything like it, couldn't explain it. Seemed like a malformation of blood vessels. He said he'd put it in a medical journal--although maybe he was just trying to avoid litigation). Everybody was so happy. I was in pain. Everybody was so relieved. I was sick and puking and passing out from the pain. Everybody just expected me to return to my life as it was before.  But, I had left the cocoon. It was awful and bloody and painful and destroyed the body I had once had. My then-wife wouldn't even look at me in the hospital bed because she couldn't stand seeing me like that. And I couldn't blame her, because I couldn't stand myself. Within five months we were separated, before a year had passed, I moved to LA. 

That year was rough. I basically burned all my bridges, salted the earth, and pushed everybody as far away from me as I could. So much so that I spent that Christmas watching three movies in theaters and eating a gas station sandwich for dinner.

I also thought a lot about death. I felt cheated, in a way. I was prepared.  Man, I was ready. I had all the epiphanies you need and was at peace.  But life had other plans. And yes I thought about ending that life.  I'll spare you that. It was a dark time.  And believe me, Seattle in winter is dark enough without suicidal thoughts.

I know a lot of you were worried about me when I wrote that I whisper to myself  a hundred times a day: "Jesus I hate myself."  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to worry you.  Those dark clouds never really go away, although I have so much sunshine in my life these days with my family and my community here in LA, that there's no real worry of complete darkness.  I'm finally over Covid (for the second time...much easier this time than the first which also made me pray for death).

I'm just sad. This world is such a terrible place right now. It's just filled with hate and terror. And I don't seem to have a place in it.  Theatre is about to disappear completely. Covid and AB5 have really decimated the landscape. I don't know what else to do. See, I was the one actor growing up that everybody told would make it, so I just assumed that I'd have this career that afforded me things like enough money to live and have a house. So, I feel like a failure in my career. I also feel like a failure as a father, because my kids are far worse off than I was when I was there age. And so, I do hate myself for that. Because I could have played the game of Capitalism, but I chose not to. I was an artist and a romantic, and I bet on myself and had no fallback plan. And I don't really know what to do.  I work a lot, but it's not enough. The "industry" has no interest in me, I can't get in a door. And so, I guess I keep acting on theatre until I get thrown in debtors prison or whatever the modern equivalent is (homelessness?) 

So, it's been a rough couple of years...decades...

All that being said...I'm glad I chose to live.  I'm glad I chose to move to LA. Every good thing that has happened in my life is a result of that choice. I have actually become an actor. Not just somebody who acted. I've met the best people. Fell in love! Had kids! So, although this world continues to be filled with horrors and disappointment, I love the people who are in my life enough to counter balance my self-loathing. 

This is not a cry for help.

I really am ok.

This is just where I am right now on this weird anniversary getting over Covid which had put my mind back in that terrible hole it was in two years ago. 

Thank you for you love and care. It literally means the world to me.