Wrong Number. Not Today Pal.

When life calls with its worst, you still get to choose your answer.

We’ve all answered the phone and heard those two words: “Wrong number.”
Most of us just say, “Sorry, no problem,” hang up, and move on. Unless you’re my buddy who answers his wife’s calls that way just to tick her off. Seriously bud, marriage is already like NASCAR. You don’t need to throw in extra laps just for fun.

Sometimes it’s a telemarketer. Or your cousin calling to “borrow” money you know darn well you’ll never see again. Or some poor soul looking for Leroy again. And now you’re starting to think that this Leroy must give out your number every time he doesn’t want to be found. Or the delivery guy calling to confirm your order for 50 wings—and now you’re torn. Come on now, you do really love wings.

But every now and then, the call isn’t made in error. It’s your number. And Lord, you wish it wasn’t.
That’s what happened to Kathy Leigh.

Let me tell you a little bit about Kathy Leigh. She is tall, pretty, sweet as your grandma’s peach cobbler, and sharp enough to keep the office running smoother than the assembly line at Krispy Kreme when the hot light’s on. But don’t get it twisted. She’s not one to be tangled with. She has the rare ability to call you out so smoothly it takes a second to register—but once it does, it’ll stop you dead in your tracks.

Anyway, all that strength was about to be needed more than ever—because one day she got that call. Not the warranty people. Not the drunk cousin. This was her doctor and it wasn’t good news.

I won’t go into detail—but I’ll tell you this much: it was a call that would have crushed a lot of folks. The kind that makes it tempting to crawl under the covers and not come out.

But Kathy Leigh? She took a breath, steadied herself, and in her own way she said—
“Wrong girl. Wrong number.”

“Not me. Not today. Not like this.”

She didn’t crumble. She fought. And what she fought wasn’t a harmless dust-up in the grocery store parking lot. This was the heavyweight champ of scary diagnoses—the one we only whisper about, the big bad “C.” It showed up uninvited, but it knocked on the wrong door that day.

She fought like a warrior. Through every treatment, every setback, every sleepless night that dragged on forever—she answered with grit. Chemo stole her sleep, her strength, her hair, even her taste for sweet tea. But it could never steal her will to fight.

Was she scared? Of course she was. But that’s what makes her story matter. Bravery isn’t pretending you’re not afraid—it’s facing it head-on anyway.
And that’s what she did. She dug deep. She fought. And she won.

Today, she’s not just an office manager extraordinaire, a friend, fun girl, or a strong woman you want on your side. She’s proof that when the ugliest, meanest monster on the block comes calling, you can still pick up the phone and say:
“Wrong number. Not today.”

Kathy Leigh is one of my heroes. Always will be. She’s a survivor. A warrior. A force of nature. That’s The Condition—standing tall when life comes swinging and proving you get the final word on your own story.

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💬 If you have a Kathy Leigh in your life, tell them. Or better yet, tag them. Survivors deserve to be celebrated. Stick around, subscribe, and pass a little of that courage on.