Finally back from the D.L.

You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?
After an extended stint on the disabled list, your friendly neighborhood sports columnist has Warren County soil back under his feet as of Friday evening ‘ or, more precisely, a Warren County couch under his posterior.
Not to go into too many of the details, but I was fortunate enough to survive a medical situation that almost put a permanent end to your weekly Robservations. I’ve been told to work my way back into the mix slowly, as my energy levels fade away pretty fast following a three-week hospital visit. But there are people who need to be thanked, and I couldn’t wait any longer for that ‘ and I couldn’t wait any longer to return to my Sunday space.
I know I’m going to leave someone out of this, and I apologize in advance. So first, let me offer a blanket ‘thank you’ to my family, friends and everyone who had me in their thoughts and prayers. I’m not the most devout person you’ll meet, but I have no doubt someone was listening, and I’m forever grateful for everyone who kept my situation in mind.
Secondly, I could not ‘ and would not ‘ have gotten from May 29 to today without the two most important ladies in my life. And, by the way, both of those ladies now answer to ‘Mrs. Nunley.’
My mom and my beautiful new wife Teri (who was my beautiful fianc?? when this whole thing started) stood by me the entire time, whether I was awake, unconscious, doped-up, silly, angry or depressed. A man should be considered darn lucky to have one good woman in his life. I’m fortunate enough to have a pair.
This may sound silly, but were it not for Seth Wright and office horseplay, I very likely would be pushing up daisies right now. That’s because it was a botched wrestling move by myself against him which led to a fall, which led to the chest X-ray which discovered an unrelated, and much more serious, lung condition. So thank you, Seth, for being heavier than I could handle. And thank you, Southern Standard, for having a hard tile floor in the newsroom.
So many great people in Murfreesboro and Nashville helped me and the family get through this, but unfortunately space ‘ and a memory dulled by two unconscious weeks and drug-induced amnesia ‘ prevent me from naming them all. A special salute, though, to Dyron in the St. Thomas ICU, who helped me come down from the clouds, Emily from Special Care, who made some embarrassing moments seem like no big deal, and everyone from the seventh-floor staff who got me up, walking, and eventually out the door.
Of course I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the doctors who brought me back from the brink, beginning with McMinnville’s own Brian Chastain, who ‘ despite making fun of my Batman boxer shorts and being a soccer fan ‘ wouldn’t put up with my shenanigans and insisted upon sending me to the hospital.
Lastly, a special, heart-felt thank you to ‘Dangerous’ Dale Stubblefield, for keeping this shop running while I was out of the loop. He and Seth went above the call of duty, turned out some great sections and gave me something to look forward to returning to as I looked on from afar.
I know, you’re probably looking for your name. Well, I told you I’d leave some people out, didn’t I? You’ll have to forgive me; there are week-long chunks of my life still missing, replaced by things I’m only now realizing were dreams and didn’t really happen, like throwing out the first pitch at the Cubs-Braves game.
But on one last serious note, it is truly a blessing to be back on this page, because there was a time when it looked like I may have written my last article. And while recuperating, I regained some much-needed perspective. Sports pages and broadcasts kept me sane for three weeks, giving me Tiger Woods, the Cubs’ trip to the top of the standings and even (shudder) the NBA finals to occupy my mind while my body recovered. I understand my place in this world again, and you wouldn’t believe how happy I am to still have it.