One Year.

Today, March 8th, marks one year since I had CoVid.

I’m writing this from a stream of consciousness. I’m still bleary eyed as I just woke up and kissed my puppy, my boyfriend, and my first show ticket good morning. It’s a ritual I do every morning and every night.

Rituals have become an interesting part of my persona these days - with anxiety and OCD spiking at times because of how different life has become compared to the other 28 years I’ve spent in this body. My ritual used to be get up, do some photo edits, do two or three photoshoots a day, go see a show, or photograph backstage of one, and then go out for a drink or five with some friends. We all know that’s changed.

It changed the moment I did something I’ve never done before - I canceled a rehearsal and seeing a show - and went to Mt. Sinai Hospital. I had rehearsal with the Skivvies in preparation for Florida State Thespians, when I woke up feeling plain ‘ole crappy. I was looking for a cough and flu like symptoms, which the news had been warning us about, but didn’t have that. It was different - and to this day I can’t pin it.

The first time I experienced the flu terribly was at the Tower of London in 2012. I thought a negative spirit was attacking itself to me. This wasn’t what it felt like.

Staying home from rehearsal, I thought I’d be able to shake off whatever I woke up with before heading to see a matinee. I had photographed the Playbill cover of Beth Malone in The Unsinkable Molly Brown revival at Transport Group and was on my way to see the show with my friend and MKPhoto make up designer, Tina. I was in the Uber when I started to turn and felt I should go to the hospital. I barely take Tylenol - so I was feeling bad. And scared.

At this time no one was telling you to stay home. Many people believed it hadn’t even hit the US yet. Many people didn’t even believe (and still don’t) that it’s real (but that’s beside the point). I wanted answers because I felt alone and terrified, so I went to Mt. Sinai Hospital for answers, where I received none. The doctor had lovely bedside manner, but she said - and I quote, “You have a non-contagious virus. Go home. Get rest. Everyone is going to get this thing.”

While that was extremely foreboding, it was mildly helpful I guess? I think of that doctor often and I hope she’s okay. I know they saw too much.

I went home. I had some rolled up turkey for lunch and while I was chewing - I noticed I couldn’t taste it. Must’ve been bad, flavorless turkey or something. So I put on a little more of my mayo and mustard concoction to get more flavor in there. Nothing. No banana. Couldn’t smell anything either - no Sharpie. No deodorant. Nothing.

And then the Forbes article came out that a symptom of CoVid might be loss of smell and taste. And there you have it - the monster had made it’s way into my own home, my own body. And I was existing with it for who knows how long. Luckily - I didn’t give it to anyone I had been around with the previous days, not even my boyfriend. And I know I’m not the only one who has that experience.

I remember feeling better and by this time, we needed to select our pod. The shows had shut down. My studio had started to become a storage unit. And we were all waiting, still optimistic that Broadway would reopen in two weeks despite the News becoming grimmer. While the virus took away my smell and taste - Quarantine had it’s own which will take me back to this time for the rest of my life. The smell of the hair dye I experimented with. The smell of the Tobacco and Wood candles we lit while my boyfriend Remy did yoga at 5pm mixed with the smell of my honey whiskey I sipped while painting until 7pm. That’s when the applause outside grew louder and louder by the day - applauding and sending energy to the front liners. Sandwich, our puppy, always thought we were throwing him a party.

I can also taste it - the breads I made, the routine pasta, the cakes, the straight vodka, the honey whiskey - all because on social media people were saying, “It’s a pandemic and we’re going through something traumatic so don’t worry about what you eat or drink!” I said - yea, that’s right and wound up putting on probably 20 lbs or so.

When I started eating and drinking the way I did during the pandemic, I realized I should quickly get a move on with some exercise. A friend who was in my pod at the time encouraged me to do an at home workout with him. I literally cannot stand those, but I knew he was right. We started a dingy 20 minute full body work out and about 4 minutes in, I thought I was going to die. And not in the haha way.

I’m not exaggerating. I became beat red. Nauseous. Breathless. I felt like I was going to pass out and vomit at the same time. No amount of water could help. And though I pushed myself to complete it - I knew something was wrong. It had only been a month in Quarantine, and though I barely stepped outside only to walk to the store, I knew a month couldn’t possibly fatigue me this much. And thus began my long hauler awareness.

When I walked to the store - I was out of breath. I was tired by the time I got home. But I never paid attention to it. I guess I thought it was just depression or anxiety or whatever it was social media was giving me the permission to experience. I thought my exhaustion was just because my body was tired from a busy January and February and that I had recovered from CoVid ran it’s course and was done.

Flash forward to blood, body pain, loss of breath, brain fog / loss of words and thoughts, and extreme anxiety and exhaustion. And I fought through it.

I don’t care to ruminate on the health stuff.

About four months into the pandemic is when Phase II began and small businesses could open up. I remember dusting my studio space, getting it cleaned for the arrival of my first client back. It was emotional and I began to cry. A space that had once been so peopled had become so alone and dark. The lights were coming back on, and while I’d a masked photographer - it was simply better than nothing. I anticipated a shoot a week MAYBE - but clients were eager to get back in the studio - and I was a busy little bee again.

Before the pandemic, I was doing two shoots, maybe even three a day, because I had the energy to. Why not, right? No more. After one shoot - I could barely stand. I would have to lay down and ice my legs because I spent the energy I had that day. It was gone - and now it was time to watch America’s Funniest Home Videos and be mindless for one second. Though I can never fully relax or pay attention because I’m thinking “how did we come to this?” and wondering when life would go back to normal.

It won’t go back to normal. With what we learned about our country, our health care, or racial injustice - we can never go back to what was. Part of our healing from this pandemic is acknowledging and actively fixing the racial pandemic that has circulated us for hundreds of years, just as contagious and just as deadly.

I marched. I donated. No matter how I was feeling, I made sure I marched and protested.

Yet while there was unrest, and a mass exodus of artists leaving the industry, I was able to make extreme advances in my career without even leaving my apartment. While I was proud of myself, I still had this strange form of Survivor’s Guilt - the fact I was able to garner an income from my art alone, while others were moving out of NYC and finding other ways of life. It broke my heart to see this - so I began to focus much of my energy (which wasn’t much) on my podcast to spread far and wide that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing - do not give up.

I think the reason why I sort of took Quarantine by a choke hold was because I had no other choice. Without this industry, without my ensemble, without my art - who am I? This was the time I relied on my bag of tricks to guide me. As my high school acting teacher (now friend and confidant) Elena Maria Garcia once taught me, “All you need is a can and stick, baby.” And it’s true - all I needed to start creating again was myself, a story, and now internet access.

So while I was welcoming clients back into my ventilated studio, I also was creating virtual programming that would be seen by over 100,000 people and would raise over $45,000 for different non-profits and charities. I began to teach, to lead workshops with colleges and high schools. My goal was to inspire during this time - to remind people that more than ever, Broadway is a mindset.

And I felt like I did something good.

I can list my accomplishments - I can list what 2020 could have been. But all I know is what it was. And what I learned.

I learned that no one will give you permission to create. We’ve all been told that once or twice, but this is when it really comes into play.
I learned that sometimes you get hit and yelled at by the practitioner who is doing your EKG. When I tell you I sat up so fast…
I learned that some doctors have really incredible bed side manner. And some don’t even make eye contact.
I learned that rest is beyond important - too important. And that I’ve been harming myself in micro ways because I have never implemented rest into my schedule.
I learned that relationships of all kinds come and go and sometimes it takes a pandemic to understand that.
I learned that I’m confident in my body even if I put on 20 lbs., which I’ve always been terrified of.
I learned that Whole30 might be healing my CoVid symptoms as I’m currently on my way to happier health. Since doing Whole30, I’m almost long hauler symptom free. I’m on Day 65, so I think I might keep it up - yeah? No sugar. No carbs. No alcohol. Let’s do this.

I also learned that it shouldn’t take a pandemic for us to listen to ourselves, listen to others, and take action. We should be doing that everyday of our lives.

Under a mask, we’re all the same. Actors. Agents. Managers. Casting Directors. So there’s no reason to be afraid anymore. If you’re reading this - you survived a pandemic - so tell your story, audition with gusto, lead that meeting, and continue holding your head up high.

That’s my new ritual. Holding my head up high.

I love you,

Michael