Ethical Issue on a Gift

Direct plea to you for advice on the best way to make a request of someone giving me a gift.

I've mentioned that I love my new job. One of the cool things is that they have a quarterly birthday cake. I love cake. I showed up to my first one, and couldn't eat cake because the cake had nuts (and I have a nut allergy). The woman who ordered the cake said she'd get one with no nuts the next time.

I went to the second cake party this summer. Nuts again! She'd forgotten. Totally no big deal. I do not expect anyone to keep track of my allergies (or even my dietary preferences) except me, and to a lesser extent my husband, my brothers, my mother (actually, my parents in general, but especially my mom). And as my parents get older, even my mom could conceivably get a pass if she forgot now.

Really, my fatal allergy, my problem.

And yes, nuts induce a full-on anaphylactic reaction. First my breathing gets tough, then my tongue swells, and then, hopefully not until I'm already at the hospital, my throat usually swells shut. On one occasion, I wasn't at the hospital yet when my throat closed, though my last memory was hearing the sirens and thinking the ambulance would be there soon.

Well, one of my coworkers with whom I had an instant connection is this guy, let's call him Jim. He loves reading the same kind of books I do -- we had a huge discussion within a few days of meeting about economic policy when it somehow came out in conversation that I was reading Lords of Finance, which I actually I reviewed on this blog. He loves WWII, history, conspiracies, running, etc. Lots of the same things I do. Awesome and instant connection. Jim is my kind of guy.

Ntatually then, with his interest in running (he did several marathons when he was younger), when I decided it would be fun to get a company team together for the local marathon's relay that was held a few weeks ago, I knew I wanted him to be on the team.

Jim and I probably chat about once a week or so, sometimes long, rambling conversations. We don't actually work in the same area, so we have no need to talk, just a desire. He's so interesting and fun to talk to. He actually happened to meet my husband about a month ago when Jim stopped by my office late in the day one day to say hi and my husband was here hanging out after he'd finished work so we could head home together. Jim and my husband completely hit it off. My husband was actually kind of peeved when I pulled him out the door so we could go home because he was having so much fun talking to Jim.

I told Jim we'd have to double date sometime. After the marathon relay, I had my work running team (plus spouses, and a bunch of my running friends) over to my house for a post-race brunch. Oh yeah, still need to write that race report...

That brunch was the first time I met Jim's wife. She and I ended up sitting next to each other during brunch, andm no surprise here, she is probably equally awesome to him. A great couple. Hence the plan to double date. I love talking to both of them. Hubby loves talking to Jim (and hasn't met his wife but is sure to like her too).

Well, anyway, getting to the point, at the first cake party, Jim realized I wasn't partaking in the cake and asked why. I told him I had a nut allergy. I don't recall there being any further discussion with him on the subject. That was that. And that was that in about March 2011. And then in June 2011, but I don't remember if we even discussed it then (at the second party where I couldn't eat cake).

Oh, as an aside, at the third cake party, maybe in September, there was a nut-free cake that I enjoyed.

A couple months ago, Jim appeared in my office with a small cookie tin with my name on the lid. He said his wife had made carrot cake for the office (sitting in the break room), but it contained nuts, so she'd made a special nut-free one just for me.

WOW!

After he left my office, I waited as long as possible to eat it -- telling myself I just had to wait until noon, and then it would be okay. My mom never really let me eat dessert in the morning growing up, so I try to stick to that rule as much as possible now.

Finally, when I deemed it to be an acceptable hour, I opened the tin and there was a mini-bundt shaped carrot cake. Topped with cream cheese frosting. Possibly my favorite frosting of all time. Topped with coconut.

Uh-oh. I don't eat coconut. I'm not entirely sure whether I'm allergic to it or not, but I've never eaten it in my life and my reaction to nuts is sufficiently severe that it's not worth trying it. I've thought about going to an allergist to be tested specifically for coconut (I know I have an allergy to peanuts AND all nuts), but it's one of those "someday" things. I don't know if coconut is even a nut really, but since nuts aren't my only allergy, there's still at least some likelihood that I could be allergic to it (I actually have a bunch of allergies, but only a handful are still of the life-threatening variety, the others have diminished to intolerances as I've aged (some mild swelling of my tongue sometimes, but not enough to worry about it)).

Well, the day he brought me that cake, I picked off every morsel of coconut and scraped off the very top layer of frosting to be sure it was safe. And then I ate the entire mini cake. And it was, indeed, one of the best cakes I've eaten in my life. He mentioned that she grates tons of carrots, uses oil instead of butter maybe, some other secrets, whatever. It was divine. I thanked him profusely but I didn't mention the coconut. I actually considered going to HR to see if I could get Jim's home address so that I could send her a thank-you note (this was before I'd even met her).

Today he came to my office bearing another personal nut-free carrot cake. With coconut, again. I will again scrape and enjoy.

My question is, is there any tactful way to somehow indicate that any future carrot cakes (no expectation there will be any, just if there should be...) would be preferred coconut-free?

It's clear that it would be no harder for her to make it coconut-free than making me my own nut-free version. In fact, it would be even easier. All she does is sprinkle toasted coconut over the frosting, so it would actually save her a step.

I'm insanely grateful for the thought and time she takes to even make me a special one. And I'm insanely grateful for the delicious cake. And I of course would never expect that she would go to such lengths to be so nice as to make a special one just for me ever again. But if she does, is there any way to tastefully ask that it be without coconut?

Definitely don't want to offend her, to seem ingrateful, or to "look a gift horse in the mouth." So I'm really uncertain as to whether to say anything. And I'm also not sure if it's too late to say anything now that I've gotten TWO (so maybe it would have been okay after the first, but not now?). What do you think?

For your enjoyment, here is a photo of the one I got today, still with a lot of coconut on it. And here is a photo of my office trashcan showing how much I've already scraped off...

And edited to add a picture of the already-mostly-consumed-before-2:00 office cake she made.

And edited to add a pic post-coconut removal.

....

WEVerb11: Breathe

For the month of December, I’ll be participating in #WEverb11. Each day gives a new prompt, each of which is a chance to reflect and look forward.

#14: Breathe.How did you make space + peace for yourself in 2011?


Contributed by Megan [everlastingpresent.com]

The easiest answer of course is yoga.  One odd change I noticed was that I liked quiet time long after yoga.  Usually I listen to audio books in my car.  I don't drive much (my commute to work is exactly 5 miles each way, and my commute to boot camp or my usual running meeting point is less than that), but even for just 10 minutes a day, I'd rather listen to a book than listen to music.  I'm not a musical person in general, but I especially hate the radio.  I don't enjoy talk radio much and the innane commentary on the music stations just makes me angry, and of course I don't like commercials, so I'm not even wild about Pandora.  For some reason, audio books seem to be my favorite listening choice while driving.

But not after yoga.  Instead, I just wanted the silence.  Listening to the woosh of the air (though I don't think I put the top down at all in November), listening to the hum of the engine, the sound of the tires, etc.  And then when I got home to eat dinner alone since hubby couldn't really wait to eat that late, instead of flipping on the tv, which is my usual habit when eating alone, I just wanted to sit quietly.  And when hubby was still awake when I got home and came downstairs to chat, I whispered and wanted him to whisper.  I was definitely attempting to cultivate that inner peace.  It's tough for me.  I feel like I'm not a calm, peaceful person.  Happy, yes, and very at peace with my life, but not calm or peaceful by a long shot.  I feel like I'm always going, thinking, doing.  Even when I'm still, I feel like my mind isn't.

Particularly since I changed jobs this year, which I feel gives me even less quiet time to read blogs, think, be still, I think in general there was less breathing, calmness, stillness, peacefulness in my life this year, apart from the one month of yoga.  But I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly.

WEVerb11: Read

For the month of December, I’ll be participating in #WEverb11. Each day gives a new prompt, each of which is a chance to reflect and look forward. 

#13: Read.  What article or book changed your outlook on an issue or life?
Contributed by Melinda [www.palindromeathome.com]

I'm not sure this technically fits as changing my outlook on an issue or life, but I'm going to have to choose Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand.

I've always been interested in WWII and have read tons and tons of non-fiction books on the subject, particularly Pacific Theatre books.  But the different thing about this book was the running aspect.  That was an interesting hook and of course makes you think about the war and the resulting lost opportunities, lives lost and broken, etc. 

I don't want to say too much about it because I hate when people tell me too much about a book I haven't read, but it's the story of a runner who enlists at the start of WWII and ends up as a POW.  Some people avoid reading much nonfiction because they imagine it like a textbook (not to say I don't like textbook type books), but this isn't one.  It's like reading someone's life story, with factual background attached and bits pulled together from related life stories. 

I have been in a book club for nearly a decade.  Mostly female attorneys, with maybe a couple non-lawyers but who are lawyer spouses where we worked with the husband but liked the wife.  Anyway, we each choose the book to read for the month we host, and Unbroken was my pick this year.  They're fairly used to my choosing WWII non-fiction about half the time (books I remember picking are Escape from the Deep (yes, another book about the Tang, but much better than most!, by Kershaw, one of my faves), Ghost Soldiers (one of my fave books of all time), and The Zookeeper's Wife (war in Europe)), but I will say that this one was one of the biggest hits. 

I think reading a lot of history, particularly war books, gives a valuable perspective to thinking about modern values and struggles.  It never fails to shock me how little understanding of history a vast majority of people have.  WWII just happens to be my primary area of interest, though I think I have a long list of secondary areas! 

Unbroken.  My advice:  read it if you haven't.  Highly recommended.  After all, it's my pick of the year, and I read a lot! 

Unpleasant Taste of Parenthood

So I'm dragging today after a quite unpleasant night.  Unpleasant for me, horrifying, nerve-wracking, distressing, terrifying for others.

I ended up working kind of late last night.  I was actually pretty much shutting down programs on my computer around 6:45 when I called my husband to get his status.  He's usually done with work right around 6, and usually home before 6:30 and he usually calls me on his way.  But I hadn't heard from him.  He said he was in the middle of something and was going to stay at work to finish it up, another half-hour to an hour. 

My response was "perfect."  I had plenty more to do, so I decided I'd just keep on working.  Well, then I realized our company is rolling over to a new benefits system, so all that open enrollment stuff has to be done over on the new system.  I usually skip open enrollment since I don't use the health insurance here (I'm on hubby's now, but that may change next year and we may each get our own).  But I had to do a W4, all my personal info, life insurance, supplemental life, accidental death and dismemberment, and long-term and short-term disability elections. 

That meant I had to get my brother's SSN since he's the secondary beneficiary on my stuff, and just a hole bunch of other crap like that.  Navigating a new website, trying to compare what I had on the old plan, etc.

Finally around 7:35 hubby was on his way home, and I shut it down and went home.  It was close to 8 when we got home, so we both made quick separate dinners (I had leftover spanish rice and some frozen taquitos (garbage), he made a mix of tuna, tomatoes and onions).  And then we made dessert (greek yogurt with fruit, honey, granola), and pretty much went straight to bed.

My plan was to be up around 5-something to run 2 miles with my vest on, and then to meet my next-door neighbor to walk a few miles and still be home by 7 to get to work. 

Hubby's plan was to be up at 3:45, go for a solo run, and get to work around 6 to start working (!! yikes!!). 

So going upstairs to get ready for bed at 9 was already later than we'd like (plus time to brush teeth, lay out workout clothes, etc.).  I was out cold before 10, and I think he was too.

Phone call on the land line at 11:45.  That's NEVER good news.

Hubby read the caller ID and I told him who it was (friend using her work cell phone).  He answered and I could kind of hear, but she wasn't making sense really and neither was he.  It was almost like they were both asleep. 

I grabbed the phone and I realized she was crying hysterically.  I couldn't understand what she wanted, except that something was wrong with her son (my godson, who just turned 3 a couple months ago).  Finally I was able to elicit that he wasn't moving and couldn't talk, and she was at the hospital with him, and she wanted me to go to her house to stay with her daughter so that her husband could come to the hospital.

I was dressed and out the door in less than 3 minutes, and probably set a personal land speed record driving to their house, and her hubby barely said a word to me.  He basically said he'd put out blankets, their daughter was sleeping and hopefully would keep sleeping, help myself to the fridge and the remote, and he was out the door.  Clearly panicked. 

I texted for a while with my friend and found out her son had been gotten sick twice the night before and during the second episode, had some kind of seizure. His father was holding him up near the toilet, and suddenly he shook and went limp and became unresponsive and glassy-eyed, so they called 911.  And then my godson had another seizure either with her in the ambulance or at the hospital. 

As the hours ticked by, she let me know the Cat scan appeared normal, so likely no tumor in his brain.  The x-ray of his lungs showed only a mild viral infection.  They were getting ready to do a spinal tap.  They had no explanation.  My thought (though I didn't want to say it out loud to her and make her panic), was meningitis. 

So of course I thought that meant I should probably set my cell phone alarm to go off about every 15 minutes in case I fell asleep so I could get up and check on their daughter to make sure she was sleeping, breathing, and not vomitting.  As a non-parent, I was very certain I didn't want one to go down on my watch!  And I was thinking if it was meningitis, there was a chance she'd have it too. 

She was fine every time I checked on her, and my friend's husband came home around 5 when their son had finally become somewhat coherent. 

Now as the day has gone on, he seems to be okay.  Thery're doing an EEG and then releasing him today, and saying they are treating it like a febrile seizure, but since he didn't have a fever, that's not what it actually was.  She's going to have emergency meds at home in case it happens again.  She said he still has some trouble on the right side of his body, but they said he should be fine within another 24 hours.

What a major stress!  I can only imagine how scared and panicked my friend was.  I'll gladly yawn through the day today and be happy I could help in the smallest way.  But right now, I'm glad I don't have kids and don't have to worry about stuff like that.  I get my solid slight about 360 nights per year (and for the most part, those remaining 5 nights are my own fault).  My life is pretty much just the way I want it, few crises, few illnesses, mostly filled with things I want to do...  Selfish but true.  Different strokes for different folks I suppose. 

Random tired thoughts today...