I knew things were not right when I saw a comma and then the word happy. That didn’t make sense. Not at all.
So I started reading over again, and there it was once more. It hadn’t changed. I had read it right the first time. Week after week after week I write this column. I don’t have to spend a lot of time writing it because I pretty much know what I am going to say before I even sit down to write. You might say I take a trial run in my head and then I sit down at my computer.
That is not the problem once I come up with an idea that I want to write about. The problem lies in catching all the errors that I make. I can read over my Glibs a hundred times, and I will still miss a word that is misspelled or a word that isn’t quite right or something. I can catch mistakes in other people writings, but not my own. I have to depend on others to make mine come out shiny and clean.
Debbie and LeAnn both are pretty good at catching most of my spelling errors when they proofread. However, while they know what I am trying to spell, they have no idea what words I am trying to put there. So that let’s them off the hook as far as correcting those mistakes. But I do find things as I reread something of mine and of course make corrections. Well that is what happened this week. I went back to make a word correction and apparently it was over a paragraph that was highlighted and thus got eliminated.
I was devastated when I read the printed copy of my column in the paper last week. I did pretty well thanking most of the people who were so kind to me and helped me suck it up and get well. At least to start to get me on the way to bettter health. But one very importatnt segment of that column was completely eradicated by the simple touch of my fingers. I can’t tell you how badly I felt when I saw that my huge thank you to Michael and Julie had been taken out completely. Michael had gotten me to Birmingham on the day after the fourth of July to have all pre-op testing and so forth taken care of. Julie came up that afternoon after working all day in Selma at the Cahaba Center. So they were there from that day forward. They were there to take care of my every need from morning until bedtime.And it couldn’t have been easy sitting in a hospital room day after day watching someone you love in pain, and they couldn’t do much about that. But they most definitely were there for everything else. Things like helping me get out of the bed and into a chair, because the nurses said I had to do that several times a day even though I disagreed with them. They saw that my water pitcher needed filling before I even did, and started to pitch a conniption fit because I couldn’t reach the dad blame thing. That is what they spent the most time doing finding my cell phone, finding the nurses button, which I didn’t really need because I had both Michael and Julie, locating the TV remote. All of these things would somehow disappear and relocate themselves on a table behind my bed or on the floor. At any rate, I could not find them when needed and I would panic. But no fear Julie and Michael were there and took over the situation. There were many other things but it gets to be too numerous to write. But most of you get the meaning by now. I would truly have suffered a great deal more than I did if I had not had those two there to get me well enough to get back home. And Michael even made a special trip back to Camden for a day to make sure that my airconditioning was in and running properly before I came home. Yes, the greatest possible time for an airconditioning to give up the ghost and quit running, just happened to be the week I was in the hospital. I am so grateful for Michael, Turkey Jones and his crew at Jones Air Conditioning for taking care of all of that. They didn’t even bother me with the problem and just got it taken care of. I thought that was beyond kind to keep that worry from me. Course I still have to come up with the money to pay for it, but I can get that done. Oh, and one last thing that was also omitted, last week. Thanks Sandy for taking care of my sweet Bailey, she loves to be fed everyday. No, she really insists on it, so thanks for doing that for me. That too was one less worry for me. And may I once again reinterate to all of you who took part in my recovery, with calls, cards, visits, flowers, food, which is still coming, and above all prayers I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart.