Weekend in Tacoma

I could also title today's post "I should Have Known Better." I ended up in hospital because my platelets were extremely low Thursday, Friday, and then on Saturday. When the Saturday morning blood test came in,  my other blood components like white blood cells and red cells were also very low. The Doctor wanted me to get a transfusion so off to the art deco hotel on the hill I went. Bad luck must have met me at the door as I developed a fever at about the same time. Saturday saw some ups and downs, Yvonne comforted me and the fever only got to the mid 101's. I looked towards Easter Sunday hopeful for improvement. Sure enough, I did improve, enough for me to ask the well known epicurean experts here at St. Joseph’s to make sure the Easter Ham was spiral cut and honey baked. Yvonne brought me some outside treats just in case the hospital Chef was off his game, and Easter Sunday started off well. We were able to walk and share some laughs with our grown children via phone on top of making the most of the situation.


Yvonne probably thought it was funny when I called "Cuisine on Call" and enquired about my ham. I was told that ham was not normally on the menu- a great substitute would be the sirloin steak. I said, "I really want ham, but will accept a medium sirloin as long as it is accompanied by roasted potatoes, not mashed. " After being reassured, I sent Yvonne on her way to take care of Sadie and the house. Cuisine called me back and said due to my request, the Chef had found a way to purchase a ham, and that I would be eating in style tonight! What a relief. I reluctantly canceled the steak, and began to prepare my room to befit an Easter feast. The moment arrived, the "Cuisine" folks deliver your meal like most four star hotels, the anticipation builds as the tray is set down, you learn to check under the cover just in case- the ham seemed to be dark brown, gristly, and shaped like a piece of pot roast. My laughter was heard around the block- I excused the cuisine delivery person and thought to myself- sometimes a burned piece of pot roast is better than nothing.



I tried a few bites, the chef did not spare any time cooking the meat that is for sure. Sirloin it was not, maybe day old pot roast with some salt and pepper? As I was about to call for some back up Jell-O and veggies, Cuisine showed up again. I went from low to high in a New York minute. Could it be, would it be Ham? The cuisine person exchanged trays and I slowly lifted the cover, smelling wafts of pork and nitrates, memories trickled back.  I carefully cut the first piece, ready to taste the famous Easter Ham. One bite and I... couldn't feed it to my dog Sadie. A bit dry, and let's just say over salted. This time my laughter echoed down the hall and into all four quads on the tenth floor. My nurse came running; I reassured her trying to control myself- probably telling a small white lie just to keep it simple and avoid further explanations.

Is there a moral to the story?                                      Ask and ye shall receive.

Happy in Tacoma- Greg