As you know I’ve been going round and round with this prison trying to find out about Joe. The “Doctor” who is his caseworker is, well, for lack of a four letter word that starts with c- and ends with -unt has been less than pleasant with me for the most part. Again, I get it. She’s just “doing her job,” she can’t “get involved.” Whatever. I spoke with her Monday. She said Joe was having a procedure done but couldn’t tell me what. I assumed something was getting removed and not vice versa because of my faith that things were going to work out. So I waited the almost 48 hours she asked me to wait. I didn’t call one number on Tuesday. Not one. My phone didn’t have any idea what was happening and I’m sure the prison breathed a sigh of relief to not hear me in the other end of the line for a whole day. But, today was 48 hours or close to it. Actually, I think it was more than 48 hours. I lost a day this week. I’m not sure how or where, but today, I sent a text early in the day. Surprise! No response. So I waited until 4:45 Nashville time to give the good doctor a call. She was actually semi-pleasant to me. I think. She told me, again, that I would have to call back in a few days because they were moving him again and also he is breathing on his own she threw in at the last minute. So, when I asked where, she told me they were moving him to the medical prison, but when I asked if he was awake she said she really had no idea. She didn’t ask and she also hadn’t been over to the hospital to see him. Someone should give her an award. Maybe Doctor of the Year? I thanked her and told her I would call back in a couple days, which is Monday midday in my head. And I hung up the phone and bawled my eyes out, but it was different this time. It was a thankful, happy cry. I thanked God for taking care of him and I got my hopes way, way up about his state of being and even if I’m completely wrong, there was no feeling in the world that could have topped that minute of pure joy. It was better than what I imagine winning the lottery would be like. And when I got to tell his brother, it was like we both just breathed a sigh of relief. I know that it is probably premature and I don’t expect any miracles when I get to see him, which will hopefully be next week, but him being in a coma twice in his life and surviving is miracle enough for me right now and there’s really nothing that could rain on my parade tonight. I feel better than I have in weeks and hopefully soon I can see him and maybe I’ll be lucky enough that he will remember me, but even if he doesn’t, he’s alive and for that, I thank God.