(no subject)
My friend John Michael, gay solo performer extraordinaire, and I went over yesterday afternoon to visit our friend and colleague Matt Tomlanovich in the hospital. He is in an extended care place. He was stricken with a pretty harsh MRSA infection in his spine last April and has been in hospitals since then. I went to see him earlier in the summer, after the Dallas Solo Fest. The infection did not spread to his lungs and for a while earlier in the summer it looked like he may come out wheel-chair bound, but ultimately okay.
He did not seem okay yesterday.
He was on a feeding tube and had assistance breathing. I chiefly noticed how small he was, curled up in bed, head propped up on a towel and pillow. He's lost so much weight and muscle mass. His muscles have atrophied.
We chatted for about half an hour and then things got weird. We were talking about theatre, day jobs and television shows and then Matt asked us to help him.
"I want to get out of this box," he said. At first John Michael and I didn't know what he was talking about. Did he want to be helped into a wheel chair and taken outside his room? Was that allowed? Where did he want to go? He was even instructing us how to hold his arms and support him to help him up. His sister was there with us and she offered to get a nurse to boost his meds. We really could not tell if he was lucid or not. It was very disconcerting.
JM and I left when the nurse came to give the meds.
We both were really bummed out. Matt was a huge part of JM's life, acting as his director and mentor. He is my friend and a colleague who supports small theatres (he is the one that invited Audacity to be a partner group at the historic Margo jones Theatre last year). We've acted together before. We all really miss him and he is obviously really struggling with his situation.
JM and I went to get beers and sliders afterwards at the Truck Yard off lower Greenville. We did our best to cheer each other up.
We were both really sad and shaken and concerned, though. Matt doesn't look long for this world. His situation is about as sucky as it comes. Paralyzed and hooked up to tubes. Confined to a hospital bed. Hard to speak. An infection slowly making its way around his body, eventually to his brain. I mean, he is a real trouper, but I can see the fight is slowly draining out of him.
I don't know how to handle his situation yet. I just know it makes me sad.
He did not seem okay yesterday.
He was on a feeding tube and had assistance breathing. I chiefly noticed how small he was, curled up in bed, head propped up on a towel and pillow. He's lost so much weight and muscle mass. His muscles have atrophied.
We chatted for about half an hour and then things got weird. We were talking about theatre, day jobs and television shows and then Matt asked us to help him.
"I want to get out of this box," he said. At first John Michael and I didn't know what he was talking about. Did he want to be helped into a wheel chair and taken outside his room? Was that allowed? Where did he want to go? He was even instructing us how to hold his arms and support him to help him up. His sister was there with us and she offered to get a nurse to boost his meds. We really could not tell if he was lucid or not. It was very disconcerting.
JM and I left when the nurse came to give the meds.
We both were really bummed out. Matt was a huge part of JM's life, acting as his director and mentor. He is my friend and a colleague who supports small theatres (he is the one that invited Audacity to be a partner group at the historic Margo jones Theatre last year). We've acted together before. We all really miss him and he is obviously really struggling with his situation.
JM and I went to get beers and sliders afterwards at the Truck Yard off lower Greenville. We did our best to cheer each other up.
We were both really sad and shaken and concerned, though. Matt doesn't look long for this world. His situation is about as sucky as it comes. Paralyzed and hooked up to tubes. Confined to a hospital bed. Hard to speak. An infection slowly making its way around his body, eventually to his brain. I mean, he is a real trouper, but I can see the fight is slowly draining out of him.
I don't know how to handle his situation yet. I just know it makes me sad.