My day started off all wrong! It seems there had been a misunderstanding about the pickup time with the Rita Van service. I was struggling to get dressed when I heard the van outside at nine o’clock. I had requested pickup at 9:15 a.m. instead of 9:30 a.m.

I stayed on my power wheelchair instead of transferring to my scooter as the driver had said he would only wait 5 minutes. One day I waited two hours to be picked up for the return home. In all the years that I have used this service since 1993, I have never had to wait that long!

After having had my handicap conversion van for five years, some patience will be required to learn the art of waiting. Patience is not my strongest point and I need a better understanding of policies and procedures. But evidently, the personnel there need a better understanding of living with disability.

The trip to my eye doctor was encouraging as the cataracts have not grown; there is no glaucoma present and the MRI had shown “no changes.” The doctor suggested that I use eye drops anytime when I am reading, writing, or using the computer. (Oops, I forgot… I had better stop and use some eye drops NOW!)

On top of all the other excitement: the results of selling the Van, the hairline fracture in my leg, the MRI, x-rays, and doctor appointments, I had been left a little drained and needed a chance to regroup my thoughts about the  different possible causes of my pain.

While waiting for the arrival of the van, I was talking to another lady about where she would be going. The oversized van arrived and I asked the driver if she would be taking me to my next stop which was only about a mile from there. When she asked my name and I said “Linda Beck,” the elderly lady whirled around and squealed, “I thought that was you!”

While hugging me tightly, she proceeded to tell me: “You are my inspiration to get up in the morning; I go to church on Sunday because of you. Please don’t ever stop writing as there are many of us who look forward to your stories being in the newspaper.”

I was stunned! I said, “Thank you; you just made my day!” She replied by saying, “No, you saved my life. You don’t know how long I have wanted to meet you.” I was overwhelmed by the excitement in her voice and the smile on her face. We talked the short distance and I told her if she would give me her address I could send her some stories that she does not receive. We said our goodbyes and as I was exiting from the van, I told the driver how blessed I felt for having met Joanne.

The driver said she had received a blessing while overhearing our conversation. She had no idea who I was or why Joanne was so excited about meeting me.

When I arrived at Michael’s, I asked an employee for help finding what I needed to make cards for our servicemen and women. I also mentioned that I like butterflies; another employee came along and offered to go get some of those for me. As she heard more of our conversation, she volunteered to pay for the supplies and shared with us how much she appreciates people who do things for the soldiers. I left feeling greatly blessed by ‘Another Linda!’ Can you believe that is her name, too? She doesn’t get the paper so she was not familiar with my stories; I promised her a copy of the one about selling my van to a veteran with no legs.

The weather was almost too beautiful (sunny and very warm) for late October so I rode across the parking lot to meet my new friend, Gondi, at Longhorn steakhouse for lunch. She had bought some muscadines for me and insisted on paying for my lunch because we had missed celebrating my birthday together. I just met Gondi this summer and the week after our lunch, she picked up a floor lamp for me and also bought me a full rack of barbecued ribs from Harris Teeter’s.

God continues to send angels who are anxious to help me be a SURVIVOR. Every day I give thanks to God and all the angels he sends! Once again as the song goes, I am “Greatly Blessed and Highly Favored.”