Rainbowfish Diary-1

A
RaINBOW(FISH)
DIARIeS
Notes from the
Covert Ops Room
Despatches from Covert Ops
Frank Povah
© Frank Povah, 2020
The Rainbow(fish) Diaries :: 1

Covert Ops Room: Saturday, 25th January, 2020
ARCHIE, THE BIG FELLER here. Well it’s been a few
weeks since the cove with the beard came out – sorry,
wrong sort of rainbow, about this cancer thing I mean.
That’s why we’re here. But let’s start at the beginning.
This feller – we’ll call him Mr Whiskers – came
into the aquarium place where we were hanging out –
in Orange, New South Wales – and I can tell he had a
lot on his mind. By the way, that’s me there with that
fabulous bright orange tail and the piercing
X-Ray eyes. See? Just above that rummy-nosed
tetra piss-pot thing trying to look up my gill
plates or something. Shouldn’t be harsh, I
suppose. We’re all in the same tank after all,
but jeez they’re nosy beggars. Those eyes of
mine are the reason I’m in this game. That
Dutton bloke doesn’t know the half of it.
Anyway, this bloke came in and made
some enquiries about getting a tank for his
house and some plants and fish and stuff. Got
my attention straight away. He was asking
for advice and that’s not always usual, so the
boss cove at Second Nature filled him in and
he went away. But I knew he’d be back. Walking a bit
funny he was, and looking a bit tired, but I knew he’d
be back.
And he was.
He got us installed in the lounge and we began
listening to conversations. He was a bit of a worry at
first. Fussing around with plants and stuff – there, no
2 :: The Rainbow(fish) Diaries Despatches from Covert Ops

here, no there, perhaps if I shifted that here? I reckon
you know how it is. I suppose he was meaning well, but
jeez, a feller just gets a place to lurk and it’s gone again.
Kept running into these weird, spotty catfish things,
always looking for something to hide in or under. Seen
them? Only a mother could love them, fair dinkum,
and even that’s a bit
of a stretch. Running
into? Figure of
speech, mate.
Despatches from Covert Ops
He doesn’t
seem to mind them
though. Funny old
bugger Mr Whiskers,
tolerant of strangelooking
things.
Looks a bit like a
lost catfish himself
with that beard and
all. Shouldn’t knock
him though. He was
complaining to the
other human that
he can’t even find us
in the species list. Well we are from Plum Creek after
all. Where’s that? Buggered if I know – humans have a
habit of making up stuff I believe. How good is Scott
Morrison.
Seems that he thinks we’re some sort of
substitute pigeons. Whaaa…? Oh, wait – jumping
the gun. Yeh, no, that’s it, yeh, pigeons. Should have
been listening a bit harder. Set me back a bit, though,
you know. Second fiddle to a pigeon. How good is
evolution. Turns out he’s thinking that if his immune
system gets a bit shaky, he thinks he’s going to have
to give up pigeons. Doctor told him it’d be highly
unlikely. But he also worries he might get a bit too
wobbly on the old legs to do things like cleaning their
houses out and all that (living in water does have its
perks) and doesn’t want anyone else to have do it, so he
settled on fish.
Since then, he’s had radiation therapy to shrink
a secondary tumour that was putting pressure on his
spine. Apparently they were worried he’d end up in a
wheelchair, or worse, so they got stuck into that. Seems
to have worked, though the steroids he’s on are sending
him a bit loopy he reckons. Never mind, just keep that
The Rainbow(fish) Diaries :: 3

fish food coming, mate.
He’s been back to the hospital in Orange for
meetings and he’s setting himself up to start chemo
in a couple of weeks. Now that sounded like a fun
conversation. Apparently the doc’s told him that with
no treatment he might get six more months, nine tops.
With Option A, the one the doc explained first, there’s
a good chance that he’ll lose the feeling in his fingertips
and that might affect his guitar playing. He likes to give
the old Taylor a bit of a bashing you see. We can feel it
from here when he’s “on song”. Boom! Boom!
Then the Doc tells him there’s Option B. Hair
loss, possibly his beard, too, though apparently there’s
no statistics on that – laugh there, please – and in any
case his head covering is practically non-existent. So
it’s the beard on the block. He reckons he’s had it since
birth so he might have to take all the mirrors out of the
house!
The doctor has told him both
options have virtually the same
statistical outcomes and though there’s
no guarantees in the oncology game
he might get him a few more months,
a year or more, or nothing. Mr
Whiskers reckons it’s worth a crack.
So if you want to keep reading,
we’ll keep listening and watching and
we’ll keep you posted.
Gulgong Folk Festival 2016
Photo Lee Willis
Pages 2, 3: With his old mate, Chris Cruise.
National Library of Australia 2015
Photos Olya Willis
4 :: The Rainbow(fish) Diaries Despatches from Covert Ops