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Some loves were meant to last a lifetime. Some only stay for a day. But both leave us with gifts that live on in our hearts forever.
Such is the story of a Chicago woman named Diane and a nameless man who came into her life for one magical day.
In her post, tenderly titled, “Your dick pic cured my breast cancer,” Diane recounts her brief encounter with a nameless man who promised her parking tips, then used her number to send her a series of unsolicited dick pics.
Diane, who was undergoing chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer, fondly recalls their initial meeting.
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.’
The two parted ways and Diane briefly thought her new friend had forgotten to text her. But her heart fluttered when she arrived home and her phone vibrated.
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.
Of course, Diane’s next step was to do what all women do when we receive a dick pic.
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”
This is where the tale takes a tragic turn. Diane wrote that she dropped her iPhone in the toilet while taking a “deluxe-gigantic-shit,” or what is medically referred to as a “dgs.” When she went to Apple to repair her phone, there was nothing anybody could do to retrieve the pics or her beloved’s number.
And so, she decided she would bravely soldier on without his love. But then something shocking happened.
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.”
Naturally, Diane was surprised by the good news. How could her advanced disease be cured so suddenly? And then it dawned on her.
“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 point, Diane wrote that another doctor chimed in to share a medical explanation.
“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.”
Alas, the good doctors could not give her the one thing her heart still yearned for—a chance to thank the man who saved her.
She ended her story with this touching plea:
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.
Some angels don’t have wings. Some angels have unlimited data plans that they use to send terminally ill women dick pics. Bless.
Nayomi Reghay is a frequent contributor to the Daily Dot, covering body positivity, feminism, sex, relationships, and gender. She is also the author of the advice column “Swipe This!” A former New York Teaching Fellow, her writing has been featured in Reductress, Rolling Stone, Mic, Someecards, and more.