A chemo celebration at the Birdfy

Here I am still at hospital with discharge plans today and my new little friends started their own celebration. I’ll be staying at my city crash pad tonight as I have to come back to get an injection as an outpatient tomorrow.

The Birdfy started pinging me about this little chemo party happening outside of my home office window. That vibrant and bright red male cardinal showed up first, leaning right into the lens like he was about to hold court. Then arrived a soft yellow goldfinch, all curiosity and side-eye. One other early bird, a house sparrow, tucked into a sunflower seed like he was sneaking dessert before dinner.

My mom loved birds. My Nonna drew one sketch bird on napkins my whole life. My mother-in-law was a much more serious birding enthusiast and researcher. So when these little visitors land at my window during chemo, it does not feel random. It feels like a relay. A baton passed across generations of women who learned how to sit still long enough to be found by something beautiful.

There is a real reason this balances me. I have been using Gemini and reading about it (because of course I have), and the language fits.

1. Soft fascination. After a hospital stay and a 46 hours full of 5-FU, my brain is fried. Birds are the opposite of a screen. They hold my attention without taxing it. Attention restoration, in feathers.

2. The somatic smile. Cortisol has been running my show for weeks. A cardinal three feet from my face triggers an actual, involuntary smile. Endorphins, dopamine, a small reset of the nervous system. Free chemo side effect management.

3. Transgenerational anchoring. Birds connect me to my mom, to Bobby's mom and my dear Nonna - a lineage of women who tended to small living things. They are associative anchors. Cheaper than therapy. Always on call.

4. Agency through a digital sanctuary. I cannot control the tumor markers this week. I can absolutely control whether the feeder is full and the camera is on. Setting up a habitat is a curative act. I am a curator of joy, not just a patient.

5. The sentinel. The cardinal especially. A prominent symbol of life force in a steady, vibrant world. Today he showed up the day after chemo started. I am taking the hint.

So yes. The chemo celebration was at my house. Hosted by birds. Catered in sunflower seeds. Soundtrack provided by my mom, somewhere just out of frame.