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06.02.03 |
Okay, for those of you who are playing along with the home virgin of "As Jann's World Turns Into General Hospital" ... let's recap:
Way back ... way back ... about four, perhaps five marriages ago for Erica Kane ... I stuck my hand into the vortex of a spinning ceiling fan and not only broke a few bones, but had stitches to repair the surface damage. No stunt woman was used.
A couple of seasons and many "sweeps weeks" later, I am in a scene that included tornado type winds turning backyard umbrellas into high speed javelins. The script called for me to run out the door, fly down the steps ... and stop one of the Cinzano spears from impaling an extra. However, the set designer did not account for rain and flora being cast upon the steps, allowing me to slip hard ... very hard ... and crash down upon my right foot.
The Director got a great performance out of me that day ... as I accomplished the stunt whilst limping profoundly. The portrayal of the wounded heroine was stellar. And later, a close-up was shot of my very swollen, purple hamhock of a broken foot and the makeup department had very little to do. Nature and physiology took care of the special effects.
The next few weeks ... on the set known as my life ... were difficult due to the necessity of crutches and later, a cane. (Note: Cane with a "C" not Kane with a "K" ... she has her own plethora of problems!)
I followed the script of my life comfortably. Since I am a mature woman and no longer the young and the restless ... life began to settle without complications. Ah, good ratings.
However, along comes a spider and did more than "sit down beside her". The script called for some sort of toxic arachnid (it is hypothesized to be a Widow of the Black persuasion) to sink its fangs into my soft flesh. Okay. But did the ratings indicate that the targeted flesh had to be my derriere?!
Life had to use a wide angle camera lens to immortalize THAT stunt, eh? *grin*
Of course, no classic heroine would go a season without suffering from a deadly disease, right? A snip or two here and there in the Marcus Welby Surgical Arena of Life and the malignant melanomas I was sporting are sent post haste to the lab seeking clear margins. A few radiations later, more drama in my search for tomorrow... and I am on my way.
Okay, where is the stunt woman when you need one?
The Scriptwriter thought it would be appropriate for my character to travel to increase ratings and where better to go but to the bright and guiding light of the land with no clocks, Las Vegas. Since I portray a business woman, it is often necessary for me to tote brief cases, computer cases ... and cases of wild hysteria. *wink*
Working without a net, I threw myself into contortionist positions. Working without a net, I tore my rotator cuff (left shoulder). I assure you, there is nothing bold and beautiful about a hard headed woman who thinks she can lift, tote and clean jerk like an Olympian.
In January '02, the Scriptwriter decided that my character needed high drama: I threw a pulmonary embolism (the same thing that killed NBC's David Bloom in Iraq) which nearly ended the show. However, the Big Scriptwriter chose not to kill me off ... just yet.
It made for very high ratings. Families called in from around the USA to say goodbye. Clergy offering comfort. Alexis Carrington had nothing on me in the dynasty of healthcare drama.
The recuperative process was long and tedious. Many days of dark shadows and secret storms led me to the edge of night. Not being able to do for myself, to be independent ... well, it led me to a depression found only in another world.
My character was given a bit of a reprieve and allowed to catch her breath (literally and figuratively speaking).
Just as the Great Scriptwriter seemed be be granting me more than one life to live, tragedy again was written into the scenario.
This time, the big hospital scene included paralysis, pain and a bleak future. Yes, the Scriptwriter exercised His editorial license and I was destined to spend months recuperating from a very serious injury to my back ... bound to a bed and paralyzed by pain.
It was at this point I decided to renegotiate my contract. I mean, after all, there was just so much one actress, in the stage play of life, can take!
Well, like sand through the hour glass I began to count off the days of our lives. Days that seemed to go on and on for generations. There were good days when my mind took me to laying comfortably on a sunset beach and there were bad days with my muscles tightening up painfully with knots landing in my back, buttocks, hip and thigh.
Life led me on a journey of twin peaks where falcons crest and later, to low valleys ... seeking hope. Any hope. Ryan's hope?
I had good care. My family and friends were patient and loving. I have no biological progeny but all my god-children came to visit.
I am far from fully recovered but alas, I am once again home and living my life in a solo performance. I am grateful. I am humbled.
I am terrified.
Yes, my life is indeed great fodder for the storylines of soap operas past and present. But it is my life.
And I truly hope the chapters to come are written with less drama, less fear ... and far less pain.
Um, how about a sitcom?
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