I met you in the cafeteria about a week ago at the University of Chicago Medical Center.
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We struck up a conversation about chemotherapy and insurance premiums. You spoke of your ailment of having crohn's disease and I spoke of my battle with breast cancer. You were slightly taller than me and had a sleeve arm tattoo which I admitted liking...
While we were talking, I began to tear up while informing you that my prognosis was elevated to stage 3 and that stage 4 means terminal. You were very attentive and held my hand as I explained my fears about it. As the conversation moved towards the weather and where we each respectively parked, you advised me to park in a different garage, one that I wasn't aware of and that was closer.
'Here, give me your number,' you said me. 'I'll text you with what it looks like.'
Without hesitation I did and really only with the expectation that I wouldn't have to walk so far (It's not good to be on chemo and walking in the hot weather).
As we parted ways and left for the day, I got home and assumed you forgot to text me. However as I set my phone down on my counter, suddenly it vibrated to an unknown number's text. When I opened up the text in my in my condo which had dim lighting at the time, I saw a beautiful rod appear on my phone's screen. The glow shined on my face and penetrated my spirit. I really felt it change me. Even though you had not shared your name previously, I knew the dong I was viewing had belonged to you because I had recognized your hand holding up the miniature coke cola bottle next to your penis.
Stripping down from my clothes, I was elated to see 4 more pictures arrive as I began to do what any woman would do and self enjoy them. Following the pictures, you also texted me the following lines over the duration of the next hour but I was busy in the bathtub violently masturbating....
"Yo what up?"
"Did you like?"
"Hey it's me, how r u"
After finishing up my gratuitous session of various climaxes to the sounds of a saxophone in the background, I decided to light a cigarette and write about the occurrence in my diary while contemplating how I would respond to your communique....
Admittedly, I had also taken a deluxe-gigantic-shit, known in medicine as a 'dgs' while I was writing and my phone fell into the toilet. The next day I took it to apple and they refused to touch it and said it was impossible to access your number.
And unfortunately by the time I got a new phone with my same number, your texts had stopped :(
I was preparing to get over you. It was just yesterday that I came in to the hospital for another round of chemo, still very sad our saga had come to an end because of my phone falling into the toilet bowl filled with my poop and pee. That's when my doctor came in shortly after drawing up my blood and feeling my tiddays, catching me completely by surprise by with what he told me next....
"You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are cured. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
Grabbing his arm as he began to walk out the room, I just had to be sure... "What did you say?"
"Your breast cancer is totally cured. Judging by the tests we have done with our fancy medical equipment and group of Asian people in the labs who were looking at tubes and stuff, we can find no more blast cells in your boobies. You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are now perfectly healthy."
"That's impossible, I was stage 3 last week," I told him. "The only thing that changed was that a man sent me a series of dick pics to my phone...."
It was here my doctor put his hand on my shoulder and gave it to me straight. "That was not a man. That was an angel, my lady. And often times God sends angels to do that because he knows what makes us happy."
At this very moment another doctor chimed in from the back ground.
"Hi. I'm a professional doctor of cancer too and he is right. You see your phone gives off a tiny amount of radiation. When you glanced at those pictures, they in a sense delivered a lethal dose of it to your cancer and killed it completely. Forever. The pictures of a penis provide the exact amount of radiation needed due to the peach hue emitted by the phone's screen. What's more, since we at the hospital note that we can't take credit for curing you, we are destroying all of your existing medical debt. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
As I left the hospital and cried tears of joy all the way to my car, abruptly those tears became tears of sorrow and loss when I reached the parking garage because it reminded me of you. Plus I forgot to see Shelia at the desk who apparently was able to validate my parking.
I still have not heard from you and I do hope you get my message because I owe you my life.
Please write me here or text me if you still have my number.
You are my hero and guardian angel.
I love you.