An Inconvenient Tumor

Besides the "Beers for Bryan" get-together, one of the major highlights of our weekend was deciding how to "pay back" the amazing staff at Cedars for finding our diamond. We decided to get cards and a cake (very fitting, given that the entire reason we went to Hospital Appreciation Day was to get cake).

You should have seen how dedicated Bryan was to finding the perfect cake. I wish I had a video camera with me while we were at Gelsons' bakery counter. There was no end to Bryan's questions about EVERY SINGLE cake. The poor girl who was helping us had no clue what she was in for. When she called our number, I wanted to tell her "RUN, while you still can!"

She had no idea that simply asking, "What kind of cake would you like to get?" would turn into "Bryan's Bakery Inquisition." There was no stopping him:

"What flavors do you have?"
"What fillings do you have?"
"How fresh are the cakes?"
"What is your most popular?"
"What do YOU like the most?"
"If I come tomorrow, will the cakes be different?"
"What are the difference between the chocolate ganache and the chocolate cream?"
"Why are some of the chocolate ganache's shiny while the others are matte?"
"Can you write on the cake?"

And then, my personal favorite: "What should we say?"

That's right. Bryan wanted the 19-year-old bakery girl to tell US what special message to write to the Radiation Oncology team who recovered our diamond. Her eyes bugged out of her head. Bryan then decided to tell her the story. Listen, I'm no doctor, but I'm sure the entire thing was completely over her head. All she wanted to do was sell us a cake. Finally, I tried to spare this girl any more misery and just said to Bryan, "That chocolate cake with the flowers is beautiful. Why don't you get that one, have her write 'thank you' on it, and then we'll be done. We're getting cards, too, so you can write your perfect message inside each card."

He was hesitant, but I think I made my point. So Bryan happily points to the chocolate cake with the colorful piped flowers and asks the (VERY patient) bakery girl, "Can you please write 'Thank You!' on that cake?" She's thrilled. (I'm more thrilled). But then comes the moment where I had to walk away. She opens a drawer of piping bags and says, "What color do you want to write 'thank-you' in? We have orange, pink, black, blue, light blue, green, yellow, white, purple..." God help us.

Bryan was a deer in headlights, so we just said, "Your choice. Make it colorful."

With that, I walked to the deli counter to get us some lunch. Five minutes later, Bryan comes to me, cake in hand, beaming like a proud papa. I asked what colors she ended up using to write thank-you, and he responds, "Every single one."

You can see our colorful cake in the picture above. But, funny anecdote aside, we took it to the Radiation team this morning and they loved it. Tracy even came running into the waiting room to give me a hug. Reluctantly, I returned Francine's rosary bag, too (I really, really wanted to keep it for posterity). But today, it was not only time for us to give it back, it was time for us to pay it back. So on this Monday, I hope that our Radiation team gets to have their cake and eat it, too.

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