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.