Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Cancer on paper


I've recently changed my insurance.  All new doctors, a whole new system.  Starting over.

I see an oncologist every 6 months, have a mammogram every year, the obgyn twice a year, blood labs done every 6 months in addition to my regular doctors visit once a year and whatever else seems to come up.. and things always do. 

If I were to spread it all out monthly then I would have a visit every month.

Changing all this can be daunting and exhausting.


I had to request a copy of my medical records from UCLA and was completely surprised when they arrived.  I have no idea why but I didn't expecct such a thick packet.

That packet only includes my treatment at UCLA and not even my radiation at St. Josephs.  Isn't that crazy.


B and I sat thumbing through the pages, randomly stopping to see the neatly printed notes.

Above is a list of my chemo cocktail.  8 different drugs.  Oh and the benadryl to counter the allergic reaction I had to the chemo.  It brought back some memories of the days sitting in that chemo chair.  I may share a few stories with you.

All of those memories and none of them bother me in the least.


16 months of treatment and I realized I've forgotten a lot of the dates in between.  I can tell you that my last round chemo was October 26th, 2007.

I can tell you that I travelled to UCLA and sat with an IV in my arm every 3 weeks for over a year.

I can tell you that I had 35 rounds of radiation over 7 weeks and my skin looked like leather.

I can no longer remember every individual date.  I couldn't remember what date I started radiation or when I stopped taking my post-chemo meds.


Sometimes the memories are so very vivid and sometimes it seems that having cancer was a lifetime ago.

Then again, it was a life ago.  It was pre-Peanut.  It was pre-Mrs. B. 

It's interesting looking back thru these records and thinking about all that we've been through.  I dare say that it's a nice reminder.  Equally foreign and familiar, having come out of it the way we have, I can look back and smile... and heave a big sigh of relief.

It's been a wild ride.


  1. And just imagine if someone had told you that 2 years after your last lot of chemotherapy you would be sat with hospital bags packed ready for peanut!

    Oh Dawn, I'm just so glad you're this side of it. Stupid cancer. Xxxxxx

  2. Reading all that I am just glad that you are here to write it all out. SO very glad.

  3. Wow Dawn! You are so in our prayers.

  4. oh girl...can't believe you had to endure that. i can only imagine how it changes your perspective on every little thing. and just look at where you are now...wow!

    btw we ate at Roy's on the big island and it was a-maz-ing!!! i forgot you said you worked there. too cool.

  5. Having only met you the one time, but having an absolute crazy love for you and your sweet family including your precious mama, I must say that my heart stopped a little in my throat for a minute as I pictured living out that time period of unknown with your health in the balance. I'm so glad you are fine and recovered and still here with us so I can know and love you so! I'm so glad you're my friend girly. :)

  6. I'm so glad you're on this side of it, and look at what you have now! It really is incredible. I'm so happy to have gotten to know you through this blog and share in all of your milestones.

  7. I just got tears in my eyes. I'm so glad your healthy with a beautiful baby and family! We are stronger than we think! I love ya girl! xoxo


Your comments make my day- thanks for visiting!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Blogging tips