Mono

25 April 2010

About 19 years ago I caught glandular fever. or "mono" as the Americans call it. It wasn't very nice, from the strange Dr commenting on how big my neck glands were ("Gosh, those really are very big glands") to the faux sympathy from my lecturers ("Where's the essay? Yes I said I sympathised with you having a seriously debilitating illness that wipes out your energy and makes prolonged bouts of concentration next to impossible, but you've had a whole extra week").

To make matters worse I had just been cast in a production of Neil Simon's Fools. Rather than give up the delicious part of the chief bad guy with only a few weeks until the production, I decided to muddle through, but obviously struggled with certain parts of the rehearsal activities and had to spend a lot of time sitting - or even lying - about the place when I wasn't actually practicing my bits. So I skipped warm ups and while everyone else was doing tongue twisters and stretching I was generally to be found looking rather relaxed on three comfy chairs preserving my precious energy for the key moments

I thought everyone understood. Indeed I rather naively thought I was being a bit of a hero, muddling through so that they didn't have to re-cast. I was sure it was appreciated - certainly no one said anything to the contrary. Or not until after the play, when the Director collared me at a post show drinks and decided to give me some very flattering advice about my potential (sadly all squandered), and some very pointed advice:

"You really could go far: if only," she enthused. "You could get rid of your attitude problem."

Oh.