Holding Pattern

The surgeons looked at my incisions today. They agreed that I was healing well and seemed pleased with the results. I concurred that I appeared to be healing well, so we were all in agreement and well pleased with our handiwork.

Pathology drives the treatment now. But even pathologists take a few days off for Thanksgiving, which means that we don't have a detailed lab report yet. This report determines the next phase. It tells us what inspired the bad cells to grow and helps oncologists decide which weapons to use in the next wave of the attack. Radiation? Chemo? Both? One, but not the other?

Too much estrogen is a possible explanation for the cancer's growth. Estrogen triggers many breast cancers, but it's only one of several potential root causes. My situation may not be estrogen-related at all. We don't know yet.

The pathology report will also reveal if the surgeons achieved adequate margins. They obviously strive for clean margins between the boundaries of the cancerous tissue and the healthy tissue, but almost everything doctors do has some degree of uncertainty. I'm coming to understand that it's the nature of the business.

So, until pathology issues a report and doctors devise a strategy, we're in a temporary holding pattern. Picture a World War II movie (in black and white, not colorized) and the scene is of an airfield somewhere in England. The pilots are tuning up the engines of their fighter planes, they're sharing photos of their sweethearts with each other, they're playing cards around an up-turned wooden crate. The pilots know they will soon be sent out on a mission to attack a particular target. But exactly when they leave, the number of planes that will be deployed, the location of the hit, and the duration of the attack are all still being determined by the high-ranking officers, who are gathered elsewhere in a small, smoky room with reconnaissance photos in front of them.

The pilots wisely use the time to gather their thoughts, to get some rest, to eat well, and otherwise prepare for the attack. It's a moment for comfort food. Consider where I can score a large tray of excellent lasagna.