Cake

We had several patients with birthdays this week. I missed the 102nd!! birthday party of one patient, but I was part of celebrations for two other patients. They were special moments, reminding us that the work we do is about life and the celebration of life. And cake.

One patient was impatient. There was too much talk, and too much time waiting for everyone to get there to sing "Happy Birthday." You shouldn't have to wait for cake. So a finger reached out and swiped off a finger-full of frosting. It doesn't matter whether you're 3 or 83 - a birthday is about the cake and the frosting (and "all the pretty girls" surrounding you.)

Our second patient was having a bad day, not in any physical pain, but in bed, kind of gloomy. The room was dim and there weren't a lot of personal belongings brightening up the space. But when we came in with a big chocolate cake and announced we were there to celebrate the birthday, we got a smile. As we sang "Happy Birthday" and applauded, our patient glowed and gave us a big smile. One bite of the cake was enough, so we left the rest of the piece by the bedside "for later."

It was a good day. There was cake and frosting; singing and celebration. And two people were reminded that they have not been forgotten, that we can still celebrate and sing and laugh together as we give thanks for the blessing of time . . . and for one more piece of cake!