Inside Almost Gone: The Story Behind Robert B. Routt’s Memoir
Updated: Sep 4
People sometimes ask me why I decided to write Almost Gone.
The simplest answer is that I survived something that changed every part of my life, and eventually I realized the story was bigger than what happened to me.
Almost Gone: A True Story of Survival, Coma, and a Second Chance is about the night I nearly died and the long road back. But that's only part of it.
It's also about where I came from.
My family.
My years in the Navy.
Building a career and businesses.
The decisions I made.
The mistakes I made.
Prescription medication dependence.
A near-fatal medical crisis.
A three-and-a-half-week coma.
Rehabilitation.
Faith.
And what it means to receive a second chance when you came frighteningly close to not having one.
The Story Didn't Begin With the Coma
If I only wanted to write about nearly dying, Almost Gone would have been a much shorter book.
But I didn't want readers to meet me for the first time in a hospital bed.
I wanted them to understand the person who ended up there.
My story begins years earlier in Kentucky, where I grew up around my family's restaurant. That restaurant taught me about work, responsibility, family, and serving other people.
My father had a saying:
“If you've got time to lean, you've got time to clean.”
I never forgot it.
Those early experiences shaped the work ethic that followed me throughout my life.
Later came the Navy, marriage, fatherhood, moving to Florida, building a career, buying a home, running businesses, and all the ordinary and extraordinary experiences that make up a life.
That's important because people aren't defined by the worst thing that ever happened to them.
I wasn't simply a man who ended up in a coma.
I had an entire life before that night.
And, fortunately, I was given a life after it.
When Pain Changed the Direction of My Life
One of the hardest parts of my story to write was how prescription medication became such a significant part of my life.
It didn't happen all at once.
There was pain.
There were prescriptions.
Over time, my use escalated into dependence.
Looking back, there were warning signs I should have recognized.
There were questions I should have asked.
There were decisions I wish I had made differently.
That's one reason accountability became so important in the final version of Almost Gone.
It's easy to look backward and identify everything other people or institutions might have done differently.
Some of those questions are legitimate.
But this is my memoir.
And if I'm going to tell my story truthfully, I also have to examine my own choices.
I can't change them.
I can learn from them.
The Night Everything Changed
Eventually, my life reached a crisis point.
My mother became concerned when she couldn't reach me.
My daughter Cynthia and my former brother-in-law Steve went looking for me.
They found me unresponsive.
Cynthia called 911.
What happened next is something I know largely through what other people later told me because I have no memory of it.
At one point, there was only a tiny sign of life—a faint pulse detected in my right foot.
That tiny pulse became one of the defining images of my story.
I was transported to St. Joseph's Hospital.
Then came the coma.
For approximately three and a half weeks, my family waited while I lay unconscious.
I don't remember those weeks.
But when I finally woke up, I learned very quickly that surviving wasn't going to mean returning immediately to the life I had before.
Waking Up Was Only the Beginning
There is a natural tendency to think of waking from a coma as the happy ending.
For me, it was the beginning of another story.
My body had been through tremendous trauma.
My left side had been severely affected.
Things I once did automatically suddenly required enormous effort.
I eventually spent about eight weeks in rehabilitation at the VA, working to regain abilities and independence.
There were wounds and medical complications.
There were physical limitations I had to learn to live with.
Recovery didn't happen in a dramatic movie-style montage.
It happened slowly.
One movement.
One task.
One day at a time.
Some things improved.
Some things changed permanently.
And I had to learn the difference between the two.
Why Family Is Such a Big Part of Almost Gone
This may be my memoir, but I didn't survive in isolation.
My family is woven throughout the story because they were part of the life I nearly lost and the life I had to rebuild.
My daughter didn't read about my crisis later.
She was there.
She found me.
She called for help.
My mother knew something wasn't right.
Other family members and friends experienced their own fear and uncertainty while I was unconscious.
Those experiences reminded me that when one person goes through a major crisis, the impact extends far beyond that individual.
That's why Almost Gone isn't simply a story about me.
It's also a story about the people who remained when my life was at its worst.
Faith and the Meaning of a Second Chance
Faith became increasingly important as I tried to understand why I was still here.
I don't claim to understand everything that happened.
I don't have a neat answer for every question.
But I believe I was given another chance at life.
That belief changed the way I looked at survival.
Being alive wasn't enough.
I had to decide what I was going to do with the life I still had.
That is where the idea of a second chance became central to the book.
A second chance doesn't erase what came before it.
It doesn't erase mistakes.
It doesn't erase consequences.
And it doesn't guarantee an easy future.
It gives you an opportunity to do something different with whatever comes next.
Why I Revisited the Story for the 2026 Edition
As time passed, I realized there was more of my story that needed to be told.
The expanded 2026 edition gave me an opportunity to go back—not simply to the medical crisis, but to the life surrounding it.
I wanted readers to understand my Kentucky upbringing.
My family.
My Navy service.
My work and businesses.
The people who influenced me.
The choices and circumstances that eventually led to the darkest period of my life.
And the long recovery afterward.
Those pieces provide context.
They show that Almost Gone isn't only a story about nearly dying.
It's the story of a life before, during, and after a moment that changed everything.
Why I Chose to Tell the Difficult Parts
Writing honestly about your own life isn't always comfortable.
There are things in Almost Gone I'm proud of.
There are other things I wish had happened differently.
But leaving out the difficult parts would defeat the purpose of writing a memoir.
I wanted to tell the story as truthfully as I could from my own recollection and experience.
Not to make myself look perfect.
Not to assign every bit of blame somewhere else.
And not to tell readers how they should live their lives.
I wanted to show what happened to me and what I learned from it.
If my experience causes someone to ask another question about a medication, talk honestly with their family, seek appropriate professional help, recognize a warning sign, or appreciate another day of life, then telling the difficult parts was worth it.
What I Hope Readers Take From Almost Gone
Different readers will probably take different things from the book.
Someone dealing with prescription medication dependence may recognize warning signs.
Someone recovering from a medical crisis may understand the frustration of rebuilding a changed life.
A family member may recognize what it's like to watch someone they love struggle.
A veteran may connect with another veteran trying to adapt and keep moving.
Someone going through a difficult season may simply need evidence that life can change again.
But if there's one message I hope stays with readers, it's this:
Your worst chapter does not have to be your final chapter.
I came frighteningly close to the end of mine.
A tiny pulse said otherwise.
The Story Behind the Title
The title Almost Gone means more to me now than simply being close to death.
Yes, physically, I was almost gone.
But pieces of the life I had built were disappearing before that night too.
My health.
My independence.
My judgment.
My connection to the person I had been.
Recovery became a process of discovering what remained and deciding what could be rebuilt.
I didn't get my old life back exactly as it was.
I built a different one.
And eventually I understood that a second chance isn't about returning to who you were.
Sometimes it's about becoming who you still have time to be.
That's the story behind Almost Gone.
It's a story of family, mistakes, survival, faith, accountability, recovery, and the unexpected gift of another day.
I was almost gone.
But I wasn't finished.
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