The Notebook

THE KIND HUSBAND OF THE FRIEND I’d lost to melanoma came to call. His was a visit I dreaded, but he put me at ease by telling me, “No two people have the same cancer experience, even when they both have the same kind of cancer.” I nodded. He was telling me not to give up. Not to feel guilty if I survived when she hadn’t. The progression of the illness and my body’s response to treatment were bound to be as different from hers as our fingerprints were.

HE GAVE ME A CASE used by architects to carry blueprints. It was for films, he explained. I would need it as I traveled from expert to expert. This was the moment I realized that what I had couldn’t be managed as though it were a bad case of the flu. I had to rethink my role as a patient.

THEN HE LAID OUT FOR ME what I think of as the rules of advocacy for cancer patients and set a three-ring notebook on the coffee table. “Keep your medical history up to date in this.” He thumped the notebook. “You’ll be dealing with a lot of doctors. You’ll have to be in charge of your history. Get copies of everything and keep them.” He pushed the notebook. “Don’t forget. It’s important.”

I WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK slide toward me. I’d always been a passive patient, counting on my doctor to keep my medical records. Those days were over, I realized, and the idea seemed horrible.

BUT THIS KIND MAN had experienced what I hoped Tom would not have to, and I respected his willingness to do what he could to help me. I put dividers into the notebook for scan reports, blood tests, the diagnosis and pathology report, and for a medical history that I still keep in date order.

I COULD SEE THE WISDOM in my friend’s words. The better organized I was, the sooner the doctor could be brought up to date, the sooner he could treat me. Wouldn’t a doctor be more receptive to a patient who cared enough about her own treatment to be prepared, knowledgeable, and upbeat? If I had to take this journey, and it seemed I did, then I would look for specialists I could like and who could learn to like me. If I was fighting for my life, I wanted whoever was in the trenches with me to be a friend.

GRADUALLY I ASSUMED the responsibilities I could. If a scan needed to be done in three months, I was the one who called to remind the nurse. (And if you think doctors are busy, imagine how busy their poor nurses are!) If a follow-up appointment was needed, I scheduled it.

AS A PATIENT I’ve become prompt, informed, inquisitive, and alert. It’s the least I can do for a coworker.

AND THAT’S HOW I’ve begun to think of myself—as coworker. After all, aren’t we all “employed” by the same Great Healer?

You're blessed. Be a blessing!