XXX.
It had been weeks of hospital life, and sad enough to say, NO hot men in hospitals. It was a shocker, really. Also, the chemotherapy treatments were boring. So boring, that even looking at a spinning fan for thirty minutes would be fun. So I must say that the hospital stay was pretty boring except for the fact that my therapy had finished. But somewhere in my heart and brain, I knew I would miss seeing the old lady next door with heart cancer or the boy down the hall I always had morning coffee with. But I had to say good-bye, and I did do so as I was wheeled out of my room, through the halls, and out of the hospital.
The air was humid from last night’s rain, almost like warm steam from a barbeque grill, but the sun was out, small puddles dotted the sidewalk, and I couldn’t help the excited feeling I had as each wheel of the wheelchair splashed through a rain puddle. The trees sung to me, grass and their dew welcomed me, and the sun shone on me full-heartedly. Gosh, I missed the outdoors.
I could even feel my mother smiling from behind the wheel chair, pushing me teasingly through big puddles and getting my shoes all wet.
“MOM! Watch it! I’m a handicap!”
“No you aren’t! It’s not like you to ignore these wonderful puddles darling!”
The humming bird buzzed around, pushing me along with her. She was really energetic for an old… 47 year old hummingbird. Oops, if cancer didn’t kill me, that statement sure will.
XXXI.
I didn’t allow my mother to stop me. Once I was mentally and physically strong enough to walk on crutches, I headed to school. I chose on wearing my casual outfit, not to set off any handicap vibes, and snuggled on my currently favorite baseball cap with the school mascot on it. I had to check if the stubble of hair on my head wasn’t “really” visible, but otherwise I was pumped for school.
I stood in my room like every morning, besides my right leg being injured and my head bald, everything seemed like those days before cancer. My sister still sung “attempted-rap” in the shower and my mother hummed classical music in the kitchen. I was doing last minute checkups with my hair again, back to the window, the sun warming it and lightening up my room. Next to the window was my rusted bird cage, but it wasn’t so rusted anymore and it definitely wasn’t empty. When I came back from the hospital, I had found a lovely surprise within the shining bars. It chirped melodically as it opened its purple wings, its yellow stomach fluffed up as it breathed, yellow eye shadow around its eye brought out the most gorgeous black eyes. I must admit, it was my new boyfriend. It even complimented the lace curtain! Now that’s coordinated.
So I flew out, gracefully as I could on crutches, through the sky blue sky that seemed in envelope the halls of my house. Not a single cloud today!
“Good morning dear.”
A pair of green eyes eyed me over the morning paper as I clomped into the kitchen. Steaming coffee in hand, my mother reminded me even more of a humming bird this morning.
“Good morning.”
I blew kisses across the room to the hummingbird and made sure to remember my small cup of orange juice and fork for my soggy pancakes.
“Yo Aussie.”
Lance had welcomed himself to my house this morning. His sharp eye watched me like his prey, which was quite frankly scary. But I decided to out-wit him today, as he reached for my baseball cap, I sneaked a kiss on his lips and let the moment slide. You could tell I was in a good mood.
“Psst, Aussie!”
What was freakier than Lance being in my house is Collen sitting at my dining room table. Helping himself to a hearty meal of pancakes and orange juice, Collen didn’t even deserve recognition. I waved anyways.
“Aussie! Good morning!”
My canary sister skips into the tiny, now crowded, kitchen, beautifully dressed with that “in-style” cardigan over her shoulders.
“Hey Kathy dear, hurry and eat.”
Mrs. Humming bird returns to her paper and occasional sips of coffee, the hawk perched at the door with sharp eyes on the clock, the talkative parrot wasn’t allowed to talk that morning with all that pancake in his mouth, the canary delicately sat next to me with her oh-so-delicate cup of orange juice, and the Aussie bird sits with her new purple shirt, courtesy to my new pet.
Just like every morning, the canary sung, the humming bird hummed, and me? I sat, the bird that thought couldn’t fly, but did anyway.
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