The Dan Tobin Code

4:30 in the morning and the phones ringing, I’m dreaming of cranberries (I have a UTI, one of the frequent side effects from the botched surgery). In my dream I hear the phone and am saying “maybe they can help - go answer the phone”
So I wake up to answer the phone, thinking befuddledly that I can ask whoever it is to go to Kroger (that translates to Tops, Safeway, Jewel, Piggly Wiggly, Waitrose and Sainsburys in other parts of the English speaking world) and get me some cranberry capsules.
I look at the caller ID and it’s originating from the local hospital.
I always answer the phone in the middle of the night if it’s from the hospital. I have an elderly parent among other things. Of course it doesn’t occur to me in those dazed moments that he’s off in Montana partying it up on some mountain, learning how to count votes or maintain the democracy or something.
So I answer the phone, a pleasant tenor who sounds quite concerned asks for Mary Tobin, to which I naturally reply, “I think you’ve got the wrong number”. There are a few more cursory negatory phrases exchanged. No Tobin's at this number and the like, and I hang up and am now awake and thinking about cranberries.
Also thinking about this Tobin thing. It’s getting weird. I like this one website, Surgical Strikes by Dan Tobin (It’s having a little humour difficulty at the moment but I have faith he’ll figure it out). Then we were supposed to audition a keyboardist first name Tobin who we’ve been talking about for some time. Then it seems like someone who knew someone last named Tobin was talking about them recently and now I’m getting mystery calls for Tobins. Is this some sort of Tobin is risen and will be my messiah prep? Or am I being warned that the Tobin invaders are heading here from the Tobin galaxy? If any of you are Tobins, could you please confirm or deny that you have placed pods in my basement?