3 good things

Zelda: Ready to celebrate?

Zach: What now?

Zelda: Three good things.

Zach: Hit me.

Zelda: #1: It’s been 6 weeks since your last chemo infusion!

Zelda: So?

Zelda: You should be feeling better and better. Getting your appetite back. Less nausea. Getting over the neuropathy. Getting stronger.

Zach: There you go, with your expectations again.

Zelda: You are feeling better, aren’t you?

Zach: Sure. Whatever you say.

Zelda. Not convincing, but I’ll take it. 

Zach: What’s #2?

Zelda: You have physical therapy in the pool today!

Zach: I get to walk on a underwater treadmill. Forwards and backwards. With Tiger yelling instructions from the deck. Yay.

Zelda: You love water! Isn’t it kinda fun? 

Zach: No. It’s boring as hell, actually.

Zelda: What if you wore a mask and snorkel? That might put some zip in your step! It'd make me giggle.

Zach: You’re always laughing at me. 

Zelda: Not at you. With you!

Zach: Right. You hear me laughing? Hard pass on the snorkel gear. Plus it's against the rules. Along with malicious cannonballs. It’s a safety thing.

Zelda: Party pooper. Moving on to number #3: The most important one…You’ve gone 31 days without a serious fall!

Zach: Whoopode-fuckin-do.

Zelda: It’s a huge fuckin-do, at least for me. I don’t want any more 3:00 AM crash-landing wakeup calls.

Zach: Here we go. It’s all about Zelda.

Zelda: Hardly. 

Zach: Look, you think I want to fall?

Zelda: No.

Zach: And I hate that booster seat you got for the toilet. It’s fucking humiliating. 

Zelda: But you haven’t fallen since we got it.

Zach: The bastard does give me something to grab. 

Zelda: Since you won’t grab me.

Zach: That’s even more humiliating. Bottom line (pun intended): I understand your concern. I empathize completely. But try not to blow things out of proportion. Don’t make it such a big fucking deal.

Zelda: I’m just trying to keep you on your feet.

Zach: Good plan.

Zelda: I’m still gonna keep track of the days…since your last serious fall.

Zach: Of course you are.