Last week I received a text that actually made me stop what I was doing and then run downstairs and ask Drew what the fuck it meant.

I was just about to leave for work and my phone buzzed. I assumed it was one of the girls at work texting me to ask me to pick some kind of food or beverage on my way into work. But ohhh, no. When I looked at my phone, I read the text and felt my breath catch.

Your dad is doing chemo this morning so shoot him a text if you get a chance.

Obviously, this is alarming.

1.)    Why the fuck didn’t I know Dad had cancer???

2.)    Which one of my loved ones’ phone numbers do I not already have stored in my phone?


So, I read it over a couple times.

The text came from a phone number that wasn’t in my phonebook, nor was it one I recognized.

This fact was the only thing that kept me from flying into a full-blown meltdown. I mean, seriously,this felt way worse than the tailspin I flew into when I read on facebook that my stepbrother broke his spine. (True story! My family is soooo good at communicating bad news! Oh, and Brandon is fine- albeit he’ll be in pain and have back issues for the rest of his life- despite breaking his back, just in case you were worried.)

So, yeah, I was kinda freaking out.

I bolted down stairs and made Drew read it. I think he was only half dressed after just getting out of the shower. Although, now that I think about it, the closed door to the bathroom wouldn’t have stopped me in the least. Upon sharing this news with him, I made Drew text Dad while I tried to think of who would send me something like that.

I went through a mental checklist of people:  It couldn’t be my step-mom, I already have her number. And Brandon & Andrew- they’re both in my phone too. And for my Dad’s brothers and sisters, well, they would all have a different area code. So then my thoughts went to family friends- there was one that Drew and I agreed upon. The only thing about that was that particular family friend was stored in Drew’s phone, and the number didn’t match the one from the text message.

Finally, I texted Dad myself (as I was driving to work, trying not to freak the fuck out).

I didn’t know I was sick.

Wow, thanks for clearing that up, Dad!

Then he told me that I would know if he was in the hospital.

Good to know!

I’m glad he tried to make light of the situation. I seriously don’t know what I would have done if I would have gotten anything other than what I did receive. I mean, go ahead and call me an alarmist, but dude- that is NOT the way to find out your dad has cancer.

Besides, I should have known better. The rational part of me did know, all along, that Dad was totally fine and that this was simply a wrong number. But there’s always that tiny voice in my head that whispers all the horrible things you never even want to think about. And it never hurts to just make sure.

I never did find out whose dad was doing chemo that morning, nor did I find out from whom the text came.

For just a moment, in my head, I sent up a silent prayer for the family who was going through that, and I hoped that whoever that dad belongs to comes out of that fight on top.