The treat

A crust; I'll be honest and say that my treat was a little more substantial than that but I really liked that quote and so I ran with it. I wanted to get that out there right away - My treat was not a crust. Not even close, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I had to go to hospital today, not something I'm keen on doing; hospitals are grubby places full of germs and I avoid them where possible. I had no choice though.

I had an operation three months ago and whilst things have been going well it was expected a full recovery wouldn't happen for about six to seven months. I improved quickly though and at my follow-up appointment with the surgeon in August she declared it a resounding success. Why then did I need to go back to hospital? Well all was, indeed, not well.

About thirty six hours ago I started to feel some pain. I ignored it of course until it got worse and really got my attention. Twenty four hours ago it began to accelerate, lets say level four pain to level eight pain. Last night at midnight it was excruciating; Let's call it eleven out of ten.

The area was very swollen and red, very painful when touched and throbbed like a mofo! Between the pain and concern over the situation leading to much greater issues I didn't sleep much more than a couple hours all night. Trust me, G-dog needs his sleep.

A call to the surgeon's office in the morning and an appointment was secured to see the surgeon at the hospital.

I spent about thirty minutes being poked prodded and scanned and it was declared good to go. Not the official terminology, but you get the idea. I had a a blood-thinning injection in my side, which really bloody hurt, and was prescribed some pills. Off you go G-dog, you're fine, she said with a smile...Probably because I just paid enough to put her child through another semester of university.

I'm fine, I thought. Then why does it still hurt, I wondered.

Feeling a little worse for wear, sleepy, grumpy and in pain I headed to my café [not mine, just the one I go to a lot] deciding that lunch and coffee would be a nice treat to perk me up. I wasn't wrong.

I ate lunch then from somewhere inside the café I heard my name being called. Faintly at first, just the echo of a whisper upon the spring breeze, but growing louder and louder.

It was, of course, the apple crumble. It called to me, begged me to rescue it from it's display cabinet confines. Who am I to ignore a damsel cake in distress? Gallantly I went to the rescue. It was served with the best flavour ice cream ever, vanilla, and I accompanied it with a second iced-cafe-latte.

Before long I was feeling a little better and happily, if slowly because of the pain, made my way back to my truck and headed home. Treat-mission success accomplished.

I don't always defer to a cake to improve my mood and in truth that's not why I got the apple crumble today; I wanted it.

For me it was more about the coffee shop, the feeling of relaxation and comfort I find in that environment. After a night of worry, pain and lack of sleep it was nice to take a load off, relax a little and underline the entire episode before I moved on.