A harrowing Saturday night in the hospital

Yesterday, I stayed in bed after a harrowing night-before in the hospital. I was simply enjoying just another day of life. I watched the complete videos of our most recent performances and I thought this Sunday would be completely uneventful. Then I got a call saying that Robin Gibb of the Bee Gees had died and the journalist wanted my comments. I respectfully declined because the last time I'd spoken to Robin was when he and I did a live BBC program on the death of Michael Jackson. I was not in the right frame of mind to talk about death after what I'd gone through the night before.

Robin's passing didn't feel shocking because he'd been sick for some time. We've never worked together but had tremendous respect for each other since the day we met in 1978 at an awards ceremony for songwriters. (I'm sorry that I don't remember exactly which organization's event it was.)

My partner, Bernard Edwards and I won a plethora of awards for "Dance, Dance, Dance," "Everybody Dance," "Le Freak," "I Want Your Love," "He's The Greatest Dancer," and "We Are Family." The Bee Gees were in the bathroom with us during a break but didn't realize who we were. We eavesdropped on they're entire conversation. At one point Robin said, "How can these guys write so many hits in a year?"

I jokingly reminded him of that event when we were off camera the day Robin Gibb and I Talked of Michael Jackson's Death.