family reunion and food

The trek through Oregon to my family reunion was beautiful as always.  An eight hour drive starts as a desert, peaks as a forest, and ends in plains. Missing the call of big city hustle I stayed over in Portland for a night.  Sure enough, we marveled at how easy shopping was at the little boutiques.   Hats, scarves, shoes, furniture, cute little artsy trinkets and pretty “us” wonderful things for our home were everywhere.  Unfortunately, this wasn’t the trip for home furnishings.    I did buy a pair of re-fashioned jeans and a scarf of course.

The Williams family meets every three years on a quaint patch of forest land with a lake, a rope swing, and an old school.  The lucky ones sleep three or four to a room, while others bunk in tents on the front lawn.  My siblings and I bunked with delight.

The camp includes food and service, games (volley ball and baseball), supervised swimming and canoeing, and all the family time one could endure in four days.  Needless to say it’s an adventure we all pay for mentally, physically, and monetarily.  Laughing takes the place of music, name tags should be required, and I’m glad I had an excuse to bring my own dietary supplements (no wonder why people spent so much time on the toilet).

The Saturday before we leave, the adults whose normal ruthless behavior is forced into hiding reveals itself during a trip into town to drink and sing karaoke.  I had gone only once before.  This time sober, the whole of it was felt.  Although we weren’t the only members to brave the microphone, my siblings and I sang “Nothing’s Gonna Stop us Now” from the movie soundtrack Manikin.  It was a off-key tear-jerker.

By noon on Sunday most were packed up and heading back home (Alaska, California, Oregon, or Idaho). 

But that wasn’t the end to my vacation.  Although I made it home, it was just days before my next chemo treatment and a month of my rigorous food program and I was going to be naughty.  I pictured a large burrito with the works, a couple slices of greasy New York style pizza, cold strong beer, and a double chocolate brownie smothered in vanilla bean ice cream and topped with caramel.   So yummy, right?  Well, yah!  However, I didn’t make it that far.  My stomach isn’t what it used to be.  I did enjoy the pizza and one cold Anchor Steam, but I had to stop there… no more room.

Today I went to get that, now routine, treatment only to find out my counts are too low. I need more platelets and blood cells.  I guess I should be thrilled I get to wait another week to feel nauseated and tired but I’d prefer to just get it done.