This past week, Johannah attended the PMEA All-State Festival for Chorus. It's been a rigorous past couple of months for her, qualifying for Districts, and then earning top honors at both Districts and Regionals. She's had to learn a LOT of music and has done really, really well.
The crazy thing? She came down with the flu at both Regionals and All-States. Not only is it strange that she got sick at both festivals, but it's strange that she got sick at all. Hannie is NEVER sick (much to her chagrin for the fact that she doesn't get sick days from school). She has some chronic health issues that she manages like a champ, but colds and flus? Never!
Glo and I drove up to Erie, PA the night before and stayed in a hotel. It was a four hour drive, and with the concert starting at 11 a.m. on Saturday morning, it felt better to drive up early. The concert was held in a historic theatre in downtown Erie.
Much to our surprise, this is what we saw out the window in the morning:
Yep, end of April and it's still snowing in PA. Crazy! Boy, was I glad I had decided to drive up the night before. Windy, skinny roads in snow? No thank you!
We got to the theatre in plenty of time, and I actually stopped in a Rite Aid downtown. Knowing Hannie was sick, and knowing that I was headed to Grand Cayman in two days, and knowing that Glo and Hannie were going to be home alone for the week, the last thing we needed was for anyone else to get sick. A four hour car ride home with a contagious, ill, breathing human did not seem like a good plan for any of us, so I did the unthinkable (and yet common activity for the Kennedy family): I bought pollen masks for the ride home. More about that later...
The hall was beautiful, and as we were waiting to go in, I saw this great statue. I forced Glo to pose for it. Being 13, this isn't her idea of a good idea, and there was lots of eye-rolling and refusal to do it. It was only when I reminded her that Mark would have been all over this that she finally conceded, and let me take the picture.
Once inside, we waited for the choir to walk down the aisles and up to the risers on the stage. I could see immediately that Johannah wasn't doing well. She was on the top riser (and on stage first), but her shoulders were slumped, and she honestly looked like she was going to topple over.
And here's where I give advice to all parents who have performing children. We have seen multiple children pass out on stage during choir concerts. Between the lights, the robes, the adrenaline, and the intense minutes of standing, it can be too much for the body. John has gotten quite good at spotting kids who are going down--the color of their face changes.
With this in mind, we have told our kids one thing to remember on stage. If you feel nauseous, or shaky, or light-headed, or if your ears start to ring, or if you see stars, SIT DOWN. Don't try and be a hero and remain standing, because believe me, you won't be standing for long, and being the tallest (and consequently always on the back risers), you will fall and crack your head open. Don't even try and get off stage--you won't make it. Just SIT DOWN.
While Johannah didn't look well, she kept singing. She made it through two songs, and then the big boy of the performance began: Carmina Burana. There were eight or nine movements of it, and after two, Johannah went down. Like literally straight down. I was watching her intensely, and saw her say something to the girls on either side of her. And then, like she was on a string, she just went down. No fanfare, no one even noticed, and because she had warned the kids on all sides, nobody stared. She was just gone.
I felt like I was going to vomit with worry. Was she okay? She had a shell directly behind her, so I knew she couldn't get off the risers.
A couple of minutes later, she was back up.
And she was white as a ghost.
Oh my gosh, if I could have willed her to sit back down, I would have.
No need though, because five minutes later, she was gone again.
And a couple of minutes after that, she was back up.
And GREEN!
At this point, I didn't care about the music. I didn't care about anything but hoping that the music would end, and I could rescue the poor girl. Our family mantra has always been "The Show Must Go On", but this was ridiculous!
She sang another song, and then while the men had a song alone, she went back down. At this point, I couldn't look anymore. I was worried sick.
The crazy thing? No one else even noticed. Not even her choir director. There were probably 200 kids on stage, and she was so cool and collected.
Her final time of coming back up? She was GREY! Glo said that she looked like death, and I had to agree. There was no denying that she was more ill than even she knew.
The final movement was sung (which is the main theme from Carmina Burana--an exceptionally appropriate soundtrack for what was happening with Johannah), and I couldn't clap more eagerly. In fact, I rarely give standing ovations (they are given without thought here in Central PA), but you better believe I stood up for that--if it meant getting her off stage sooner, I would have done cartwheels down the aisle!
Did she exit immediately? Oh no. The official picture of the choir still needed to be taken. Holy smokes, I should have forked over the $20, just to see what she looked like after that performance. I certainly didn't have the presence of mind to take pictures during the performance!
I ran to the back of the auditorium so I could catch her as she exited. When she saw me, she just ran into my arms and starting crying. And feeling her head against my neck, I realized she was burning up with fever.
While she walked into the adjoining hotel to get her stuff (I sent Glo with her in case she passed out), I ran back into the Rite-Aid and bought everything: Tylenol, Motrin, zinc, water and candy.
We grabbed some food on the way out of Erie, and she was quickly asleep in the car. When we got home, it was all about taking care of her. You better believe though that the pollen masks didn't come off--I was wearing one as well. And unbelievably, none of the rest of us got sick. What's that, Cheese? I'm always what?? That's right, baby--Mommy is always right! :-)
The crazy thing? She came down with the flu at both Regionals and All-States. Not only is it strange that she got sick at both festivals, but it's strange that she got sick at all. Hannie is NEVER sick (much to her chagrin for the fact that she doesn't get sick days from school). She has some chronic health issues that she manages like a champ, but colds and flus? Never!
Glo and I drove up to Erie, PA the night before and stayed in a hotel. It was a four hour drive, and with the concert starting at 11 a.m. on Saturday morning, it felt better to drive up early. The concert was held in a historic theatre in downtown Erie.
Much to our surprise, this is what we saw out the window in the morning:
 |
Yep, end of April and it's still snowing in PA. Crazy! Boy, was I glad I had decided to drive up the night before. Windy, skinny roads in snow? No thank you!
We got to the theatre in plenty of time, and I actually stopped in a Rite Aid downtown. Knowing Hannie was sick, and knowing that I was headed to Grand Cayman in two days, and knowing that Glo and Hannie were going to be home alone for the week, the last thing we needed was for anyone else to get sick. A four hour car ride home with a contagious, ill, breathing human did not seem like a good plan for any of us, so I did the unthinkable (and yet common activity for the Kennedy family): I bought pollen masks for the ride home. More about that later...
The hall was beautiful, and as we were waiting to go in, I saw this great statue. I forced Glo to pose for it. Being 13, this isn't her idea of a good idea, and there was lots of eye-rolling and refusal to do it. It was only when I reminded her that Mark would have been all over this that she finally conceded, and let me take the picture.
 |
| What kind of bow hold is that, I ask you? |
Once inside, we waited for the choir to walk down the aisles and up to the risers on the stage. I could see immediately that Johannah wasn't doing well. She was on the top riser (and on stage first), but her shoulders were slumped, and she honestly looked like she was going to topple over.
And here's where I give advice to all parents who have performing children. We have seen multiple children pass out on stage during choir concerts. Between the lights, the robes, the adrenaline, and the intense minutes of standing, it can be too much for the body. John has gotten quite good at spotting kids who are going down--the color of their face changes.
With this in mind, we have told our kids one thing to remember on stage. If you feel nauseous, or shaky, or light-headed, or if your ears start to ring, or if you see stars, SIT DOWN. Don't try and be a hero and remain standing, because believe me, you won't be standing for long, and being the tallest (and consequently always on the back risers), you will fall and crack your head open. Don't even try and get off stage--you won't make it. Just SIT DOWN.
While Johannah didn't look well, she kept singing. She made it through two songs, and then the big boy of the performance began: Carmina Burana. There were eight or nine movements of it, and after two, Johannah went down. Like literally straight down. I was watching her intensely, and saw her say something to the girls on either side of her. And then, like she was on a string, she just went down. No fanfare, no one even noticed, and because she had warned the kids on all sides, nobody stared. She was just gone.
I felt like I was going to vomit with worry. Was she okay? She had a shell directly behind her, so I knew she couldn't get off the risers.
A couple of minutes later, she was back up.
And she was white as a ghost.
Oh my gosh, if I could have willed her to sit back down, I would have.
No need though, because five minutes later, she was gone again.
And a couple of minutes after that, she was back up.
And GREEN!
At this point, I didn't care about the music. I didn't care about anything but hoping that the music would end, and I could rescue the poor girl. Our family mantra has always been "The Show Must Go On", but this was ridiculous!
She sang another song, and then while the men had a song alone, she went back down. At this point, I couldn't look anymore. I was worried sick.
The crazy thing? No one else even noticed. Not even her choir director. There were probably 200 kids on stage, and she was so cool and collected.
Her final time of coming back up? She was GREY! Glo said that she looked like death, and I had to agree. There was no denying that she was more ill than even she knew.
The final movement was sung (which is the main theme from Carmina Burana--an exceptionally appropriate soundtrack for what was happening with Johannah), and I couldn't clap more eagerly. In fact, I rarely give standing ovations (they are given without thought here in Central PA), but you better believe I stood up for that--if it meant getting her off stage sooner, I would have done cartwheels down the aisle!
Did she exit immediately? Oh no. The official picture of the choir still needed to be taken. Holy smokes, I should have forked over the $20, just to see what she looked like after that performance. I certainly didn't have the presence of mind to take pictures during the performance!
I ran to the back of the auditorium so I could catch her as she exited. When she saw me, she just ran into my arms and starting crying. And feeling her head against my neck, I realized she was burning up with fever.
While she walked into the adjoining hotel to get her stuff (I sent Glo with her in case she passed out), I ran back into the Rite-Aid and bought everything: Tylenol, Motrin, zinc, water and candy.
We grabbed some food on the way out of Erie, and she was quickly asleep in the car. When we got home, it was all about taking care of her. You better believe though that the pollen masks didn't come off--I was wearing one as well. And unbelievably, none of the rest of us got sick. What's that, Cheese? I'm always what?? That's right, baby--Mommy is always right! :-)
 |
| She actually kept forgetting she had the mask on :_) |
 |
| At home at last. All is well. A new crocheted afghan from a friend, her Interlochen sweatshirt, and I Spy book, and her cat. It took almost a week for her to be feeling better again. Crazy thing? She still looks beautiful, sickness and all! |
Wow! I love the mask.
ReplyDelete