I lost my cellphone and I'm devastated

By Andrew Coakley

drewfiles@hotmail.com

I lost my cellphone two days ago, and I’m devastated.

I feel lost, crippled, and I feel as if a part of me has gone missing. These responses shocked me, because, for the most part, I never considered myself a tech geek or one who was so attached to my latest tech acquisitions.

I comforted myself in the fact that I wasn’t attached or addicted to my cellphone like my sister-in-law, whose cellphone has become a part of her anatomy and whom I’m convinced would have a total breakdown if she lost her cellphone. Nor am I like my wife’s cousin, who has always had the unfortunate task of setting up the tech devices for those of us who were fortunate to receive such gifts on Christmas. Neither do I consider myself like one of my co-workers who is a walking billboard for Apple and who could probably pay off her mortgage if she was to sell all the tech devices and gadgets which she owns.

No, my tech knowledge, acquisitions, or interest pales in comparison to those folks, but losing my cellphone caused me to question the possibility of my addiction to technology. But that thought lasted only for a while. Eventually, I realized that I’m “addicted” to tech, but I have become “dependent” on it in a way. But then again, haven’t we all to some degree?

Losing my cellphone suddenly placed me on the outside of my friends’ world and on the outside of general communication. I feel like someone who had been dropped into the middle of a foreign place where I didn’t understand nor spoke the language and that I would die of hunger or thirst in a short space of time. I miss getting texts, even the ones not specifically directed towards me, but were a part of the group chats that I may have been a part of. It helped me to keep up (in a sense) with some of the things that were going on in my community and in the country.

In fact, even as I write this, I’m thinking about the texts that I’m missing out on. I’m thinking about the people who were texting me or calling my cellphone from a day ago and who have been unable to get in touch with me. Are they thinking that I’m deliberately not taking their calls nor responding to their texts? If the tables were turned, I would have been thinking the same thing. Unaware that their cellphone may have been misplaced, destroyed, or lost.

I wish I could reach out to them and let them know of my dilemma. But, alas, I can’t because their contacts were…in my cellphone. That brings me to the biggest drawback of losing my cellphone – the inability to get in touch with your friends, family, co-workers or even business associates.

This is where for some of us, our dependency on tech has imprisoned us.

I remember before the birth and proliferation and the explosion of cellphones and communication, we wrote down people’s phone numbers and then we memorized them. We didn’t have a choice. Can you imagine, for some of us, we had memorized at least 20 phone numbers in our heads (some people had memorized even more) and it was not a big deal. It was just the way we lived.

Then along came cellphones and the ability to store numbers, people’s names and even photos of the people we would call removed the need to memorize phone numbers. Now, instead of actually punching in the numbers to call someone, we simply bring up someone’s name in our contact list, press the name and the phone automatically dials that person’s number. Some of us can simply “tell” our phones to call someone and it does.

Gone are the days of having to remember someone’s phone number. Isn’t technology great?

Not really. Now, I cannot call anyone in my phone contact list and let them know that my phone has been lost, because I don’t know any of their numbers. Not one. Even my closest friend’s number eludes me. Isn’t that weird? Even their home phone numbers were stored in my cellphone.

Now, I’m thinking I will have to drive by my friends homes and let them know that my phone has been lost. I will have to try and get in contact with one person who I work with, get their number, or give them my new cell number and get the numbers of my other co-workers so that I could - you got it - store them in my new cellphone.

That’s the true definition of insanity!

My cellphone had also become my game companion. It was the thing I used to take up my time while I waited either at the doctor’s office, in the bank, in the store, in an airplane, in an airport or anytime I needed to “kill” time. I had downloaded several games that had become my favorites. I had advanced so far on Candy Crush, Solitaire, Bubble Shooter and even in the game of chess that I was proud of myself. If I don’t get my phone chip, I will have to redownload those games and start all over.

Unbelievable!

I think of all the personal items that were stored in my cellphone. Photos of my wife and I on vacation, photos of my kids, family videos, birthdays; WhatsApp chats between my wife and I, my kids and I and even some work-related chats that were saved as evidence of something a co-worker promised to do and probably never did. That was my evidence that I was not the one in the wrong. To think that all of this has been lost devastates me.

I know what some of you are saying, because my son and my wife have already scolded me for it. My son said I should have had an iPhone, because if I had, I would have been able to locate my phone right away. For the record, I have vehemently opposed joining the “Apple Nation” and was happy with my Samsung Note. My wife asked me if I had backed up my information from my cellphone in the cloud and I looked at her like a deer staring into headlights! (I told you, I’m not the tech geek kinda guy).

I’m still holding out hope that Alamo Car rental would find my cellphone which I left in the car in Fort Lauderdale and would email me to let me know that they had located my phone.

In the meantime, the thought that someone out there may have my phone and could gain access to my personal information gives me goosebumps! I hate this feeling of hopelessness. Getting a new phone may be simple enough, but to me, it would be like starting all over. And starting all over again is going to be rough.

Maybe I would take my son’s advice and reluctantly join the “Apple Nation” or become cognizant of backing up my personal information on my new Samsung phone. This is not a good feeling and I’m working through depression, the hurt, dependency withdrawals and the feeling of being lost without my cellphone.

By the way, if any of the people in my cellphone contact list see this blog, now you know why I haven’t been answering your call or returning your text. I’ve lost my cellphone.