And Here's the Crash

I haven't done a play since last summer and as soon as rehearsals started on Saturday, I felt that blissful high invade my body. If you are an artist, or perhaps and athlete, of any kind, you know what I am talking about. That incredible rush, a mixture of joy and adrenaline, that comes solely from doing what you love more than anything else in the world. We've had 4 incredibly amazing rehearsals for Little Martyrs where we've explored, tried new things, made discoveries, and, yes, played (there was even a Nancy-sandwich at one point, so you know, I'm not complaining). We've so far managed to work through every single scene in the play at least once and things are looking good.

And tomorrow we get a day off.

My body knows this and, like any good addict being separated from his or her junk, I'm crashing. Hard. Yup, rehearsal ended a few hours ago and the crash was almost instant. I'm feeling moody, experiencing body aches from moving into new physical areas, and then there's the pain.

Yes, actual pain. Because this is more than some kind of show crash.

You see, yesterday, I had minor surgery. Just a couple lumps that I had been on a waiting list to have removed. Seriously no big deal and I've had it done in the past without any trouble. Of course, me being who I am (which is totally crazy), after my surgery, I showed up for rehearsal.

Yes, I showed up for rehearsal after being told to "take it easy" by the doctor (rehearsal is easy, right?), looking pale, queezy probably from the local anesthetic leaving my body, and with blood seeping through the bandages from where the stitches were placed... Cuz I'm a trouper (also RE: totally crazy). I was promptly forced home by the stage manager once the whole bloody bandages thing was discovered and we couldn't find any replacements in the building.

Even showing up today probably wasn't the smartest move because of the awkward location of the stitches, but you know what adrenaline does? It blocks pain! Which is awesome! Until the adrenaline goes away. And you end up going home by yourself crying into a bottle of wine you just bought but realize you probably shouldn't drink because you're not sure how that would work with painkillers. Also, I really wish I had someone to tuck me in. Because when you're sick or you have a booboo, you immediately turn 5 again.

So part of me is happy to have the break to rest and get better, but the other part of me really wishes that I could have more of those adrenaline rush rehearsal blockers because this ibuprofen is just NOT CUTING IT.