I was supposed to meet with Gwyn yesterday at the YMCA Healthy Living Center. She is back from vacation and I was excited for the return of her guidance.
Then I got in the car and rolled out of the back drive at the office. As I started to turn to the right, something slipped and I realized that my steering had pretty much failed. I drove for half a block debating whether I could limp across town to the HLC and quickly came to the right conclusion - I could cause an accident, killing myself or someone else and that would be stupid.
So, I called to let Gwyn know and then called my saint of a brother, Gordon. (Did I mention he is good looking and single, ladies?) He could tell by my tone that 'Bertha' my 93 Buick Skylark was the reason for my dialing him. I limped her over to Gordon's and he set to looking her over. We went to his work, Advance Auto Parts, and priced out parts for pretty much everything it could be. Then back to his place, where he loaned me his truck, telling me, "I love you only slightly more than my truck, so be careful." (He was only half kidding.)
I ran back to work, stopped by home to get him the can of mosquito bombing spray I had. (The little blood suckers could carry you off at his house.) And I went back to find Gordon had torn apart more of the car. Then he showed me what was really wrong - the sheet metal that holds the steering column in place has torn, so it's actually sliding, which explains why my steering wheel was crooked. Add to that the fact that the panel underneath is rusted through and if that thing had broken loose and dropped, it would have gone right on to the ground - I had made an awesome choice in not going to the gym!
So, Gordon will have Bertha for the next several days. Lori has been kind enough to share her car with me. And I am going back to the gym today. It's time to get everything in my life back on track.
Yours in Health,