My kangaroo heart skips a beat
“How is your day going?” I asked the nurse, who was checking my blood pressure and weight.
I was there to get hydrated, I dercidced that was the best way to push chemo out of my body. Last time I had chemo, I thought of it as a healing force, which I still do, but I also know now I have to fight its effects a little harder—aches in feet in hands by doing exercises, getting chemo out of my system sooner–well go through two bags of a hydration to get more fluids (After all, no way can I drink 8 8-ounce glasses of water every day. So for three hours, have an IV drip; ideally, this pushes the toxins out faster so it minimizes the damage chemo does to the health cells, and enables me to recover quicker.)
My blood pressure is high if I’m talking, and it’s normal if I decide to be boring and not say anything.
:It’s been a rough day.”
“Well sometimes you see people who arent going to make it. You’ve actually lifted my spirits…you’re a fighter. I see you, and you’re a fighter.”:
I said, “:Well, people sometimes don;t see the other side, if peoploe don;t make it. Did they fight for an extra second or minute of life. WHat if they made it to Tuesday, they had Tuesday–they wanted Wednesday, but at least they got their Tuesday That’s heroic, and that doesn’t mean death won.”
Then I worry, being humbled. Hoping this fight eradicates cancer. I don;t want to come back here again and again if it somehow has travelled somewhere else. So I’m never secure in my station. But every second my fists tighten and I bring it.
I walk to the chair to get hydrated. I watch two episodes of Skippy The Bush Kangaroo–watching the kangaroo lope and jump so effortlessly reduces me to the wonder of a child at other creatures. The Roo is a spirit, and I imagine that spirit bounding through me.
“Go Skippy,” is softly say, as my dreaming heart makes a kangaroo hopping beat that enlivens my body. I softly sing the theme song, “Go SKippy. Skippy the Bush kangaroo, Skippy a friend so ever true.”