I thought it was a crank call

I got a call recently that I almost blew off.

By mistake, our switchboard operator sent me a call meant for the lady next door. Our patient, Mr. Z. raved and raved about her. She was just the best and gave me her card, but I lost it, he said, so they transferred me to you.

I tried to get out that I was not the person he was looking for, but Mr. Z. said, "That's okay. If you can help me later by telling her, I'm fine."

So I listened.

Mr. Z. had been a patient in the last year and really enjoyed his stay. He was in the building next door. They offered him stuff to take home, but he declined saying, "Oh, I don't really need it. I'd rather help someone else." During the call, Mr. Z said, "I'm dying of cancer. I'm in hospice. I'd just like that lady to send me one of those recreation kits I told her I didn't want when I was there."

I verified his story. It was all true. I was mortified that I thought this guy was a prankster. I promised Mr. Z. I'd take care of what he needed and call her myself. She wasn't there, so I sent a quick e-mail.

She replied. The kits went out in the mail today and she called to let him know. One phone call leads to one e-mail to one package in the mail.

One last request and I could have blown it, but I got a reprieve, and in a crazy chain of events, I helped make a dying man's dream come true.

Wow...