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I just wanted to take a significant moment here to extend my heartfelt gratitude for your kindness, support, and well wishes...all of which, I'm quite certain, contributed substantially to my recovery. I had my second Hernia surgery in less than two years on Tuesday, January 12th and, as it was during the Spring of 2008, my recovery was somewhat challenging. Having no wife, and not even a girl friend on the distant horizon, I was left to care for myself after the surgery. Living by myself, I thought I had prepared for every possible contingency prior to the procedure. What I hadn't counted on was developing an infection and fever during my recovery at home. With staples in my right groin area, I wasn't allowed to drive to the pharmacy in order to pick my antibiotic. The surgeon wanted to see me in his office, but I had no way of getting there. Then the pharmacy let me know that it wasn't their policy to deliver. When I attempted to pay for my prescription by telephone with a credit card, they further informed me that they didn't accept credit card payments by phone. While I probably know hundreds of people scattered around the country, few friends or acquaintances reside in the neighborhood or vicinity in which I live. I don't think I've ever felt so helpless or alone in my life. I finally had to ask my cousin to drive an hour in order to pick up the antibiotic for me. I felt terrible for having to ask such a favor. I was afraid that I'd spend the next week languishing in the hospital with an infection if I couldn't find a way to secure my medicine. Thanks to the thoughtful kindness and compassion of each of you and, in particular, Jessie Lilley, I didn't feel quite so alone after reading your posts. I remain deeply touched by your generosity and caring, and I can only express my sincere and heartfelt thanks. I've gone back to work a full week earlier than suggested, against the advice of my doctor, but cabin fever was beginning to set in, and I promised him that I'd be careful. I'm just walking a little slower these days than I would normally. Hopefully, this too will pass in time. Thank you once more for a wonderful and caring post by all of you that left me close to tears.

Love and Peace,



Steve

It's a good episode, as are all of the stories in this wonderful television series but, to be honest, it bothered me to see Richard Kimble acting (there's the key word, of course) like a jerk. I'm used to seeing him in more heroic and poignant characterizations...although, as it turns out, he becomes a far more sympathetic character at the end than earlier portions of the strong teleplay might have indicated. As "Route 66" and "The Fugitive" are my number one and number two favorite television series of all time, it was quite interesting to see the star of one doing a guest performance on the other. I did watch an episode of "Route 66" yesterday afternoon which I remembered very clearly over these many years, and I heartily recommend it. It was every bit as powerful as I remembered it, and had lost none of its sweetness. The episode is called "Voice At The End Of The Line," and guest stars a marvelous character actor named Sorrell Booke as a sad, balding, fat, little man try to cure his terrible loneliness by talking each day on the telephone to the voice of a girl he's never met. It's a heart breaker, to be sure, and further solidified my opinion that "Route 66" continues, after nearly fifty years, to pack more humanity into a single episode than most television series contain, or contained in their entire run.

I had worked for more than fourteen years in Philadelphia television and radio in what I had previously regarded as my "career" but, when that opportunity dried up and went away some twenty years ago, I had to find something else to do with the rest of my life. Unlike other friends of mine who essentially gave up their will to live and quite literally died when their careers passed into blessed memory, I needed to find other roads to pursue, and other reasons to go on with my life. Life is much too precious to throw away merely because a favored career disappears, and I refuse to be defined by what I do in order to earn an income.

I had a genuinely frightening day of work today with the symptoms of my chest pains not diminishing in the slightest. I'm feeling weak, fragile, and not a little frightened. I made telephone calls this afternoon to both my primary care physician and my surgeon and am awaiting call backs. If the condition has not improved by the morning, I may have to ask a co-worker to drive me to the nearest emergency room. I don't know what's happening, but I could use your love, friendship, and prayer support over the next few hours and days.