You Can't Make This S**t Up

Because...you can't.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Mayday

I have not posted for about a million years because May was a ludricrous month. I think it was for a lot of people. A lot of shit went down, let's just say.

My story goes like this:

Part 1: The Show
I work on what apparently is now a bona-fide "hit" cable show, one of those cute lifestyle reality shows. Because it's been successful, the network is paying a lot more attention to it. This means perks like extra cameras on shoots, makeup for our stars, and brand-new segments of the show.

But the downside is they are using our talent for these new segments, which means travel. Which means we lose our talent for a good portion of the time. In fact, we lost one of our talent for the entire month of April. AND part of May.

So while we attempted to make up for the lack of shoots in April, we couldn't even schedule freely in May. So there was one week in May, in particular, jammed full of shoots.

On top of that, we had a new producer start, who is wonderful, but I was helping out on her sets to make sure she got what she needed for her episodes; and our boss was in the process of leaving.

This was a hectic, crazy time where there was little rest for the weary. I find it a small price to pay however, knowing the show is a success; though free coffee on sets has yet to come. That will truly be a day to rejoice.

Part 2: The Illness
I live with my cousin. She moved here a year ago and is the closest thing to a sister to me. Though being very young (early 20s), she is very worldly and wise in that old-soul way and has been working nonstop in production almost since she touched ground in L.A.. She can really take care of herself.

But even a young sturdy person can't keep up with 18-hour shoot days and 6-day work weeks, and one weekend in May, she had a fever. And it broke that night...and then it came back again. And again, and again. It was like tiny sick Beth in "Little Women"--the kid never got better. No matter how much water and tylenol she ingested, nothing kept the fever away for good.

She called her HMO, oh, about 3 times to get assigned a doctor, only to find out the doctor had retired the week prior. Then finally she found a PRACTICING doctor, and saw him. Five days later and multiple promises to refer her to a specialist, no referral materialized. (By now, she had a fever for two weeks.)

Remember Hell Week at work? The second day into it, a Monday (I had a shoot Sunday), she called me at work. "My fever is at 104," she said. "Find me the number for a cab. I'm going to the ER."

Once there, doctors kept asking, "Have you been traveling?" You could tell they were fishing for anything that could, once and for all, establish that the avian flu has indeed hit the US. She kept saying no, no no, she hadn't traveled. "But I moved here a year ago." "From where?" they'd ask excitedly. "Troy, Illinois?" she'd wheedle. Disappointed, they retreated and continued to ask her boring questions about her general health.

However, the infectious disease specialist assigned to her refused to believe the reasonable diagnosis that this was probably a viral infection. JUST IN CASE, she was tested for everything from ebola (despite the fact she was NOT bleeding from her eyes) to leukemia. In fact, knowing that she is slavic, he researched a feverish disease that plagues Macedonians. (I googled this like crazy and found nothing about this. But it's begging to be a plot point on HOUSE - hairy high cheekboned woman comes in with fever, has Mediterreanean disease that can only be cured by eating massive amounts of kalamata olives.)

Poor thing was a total trooper all week. People called, visited and sent flowers, and I ran over there every night to hang out. I was relieved when in the final analysis, it looked like she had a viral infection, which is obviously non life-threatening, but can hang on for weeks.

But there's no medication you can give for a viral infection, so she pretty much had to wait it out. Almost 30 consecutive days of fever later, she finally got well.

Of course, that's just the half of it. The HMO's traumatized her even more than the illness, but I won't get into that here--it's too effeng depressing. Did you know that Medicaid--which works with only the government as the middleman between doctor and patient--operates on about 2% of administrative costs, but the typical health care company allocates a whole 20%??? You know, to pay for all the paper pushers. And speaking of health insurance...

Part 3: Girl Trouble
The last portion of my crazy month or so occured when I had some routine medical "issues" that required an outpatient procedure to fix things. This meant going under (for the first time ever--it was like being on Quaaludes - for a WEEK) and and no heavy lifting or exercise (!!) for 6 weeks. So I'm going to get fat. Fantastic.

And that in and of itself was a mild ordeal, but my friends and family helped out just wonderfully and work was more than understanding.

All this wound down just in time for my 30th birthday. I'm hoping that's a convenient marker meaning the end of all this drama, for me, my cuz, and some friends who had some dark times too. A friend and I were chatting at my party this weekend and we agreed that things happen in threes, and it's such a relief when you finally hit that smooth sailing period in the aftermath. Until of course you hit a bump or two, but as my mother says, "Someone always has it worse." And right now I really feel bad for that person!

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