Mary is eating a cake of some sort. She is ravaged by cancer and her face is badly affected -- particularly her eyes. One eye has a growth on the inside of the lower part of it. She is disfigured. I approach her and remove the bowl from the table before her. It is half filled with a chocolate pudding or custard. Without asking her permission, I take the bowl away from her and wash it out. Mary asks me why I did that because she's eating it. Then she smiles and shows me the cake in her hand. She tells me she has figured out how to eat it by nibbling it a certain way.