Early Appointment Please

Eighty-nine appointments
in the last seven years: she’s here
as often as I am, but unanchored
to a desk. Her port of call is the cat scan
and exploratory operations, so maybe
it feels like a day off to come here
and have her hearing aid fine-tuned.
Except she only lost her hearing
because of all the radiation
we’ve pumped through her veins
to kill whatever’s killing her.

So when does the minor become so major
you finally get the message
that your body can’t take any more,
it’s ready to be done and dusted?

But for some, fighting to the bitter end
comes with the heredity, the territory.
Cancelling the appointment
would only confess that the holy ghost
has been chased out of town
by chemotherapy, that its spirit
only haunts you now, and will vanish
when the last test is done. When we
finally find out what killed you.