I’ve been trying to decode the pathology report from last month’s breast cancer surgery. Given to me in advance of this Friday’s oncology appointment, I know the experts will go over it with me in detail. Already I’ve found some things I need to bring up. I like to engage in anticipatory worrying.

I understand the part about “no tumor seen in sentinel lymph nodes #1, #2, #3, #4 left axilla.” This is the most fantastic news. No cancer in the lymph nodes. But what does it mean when a node is “hot not blue?” Or what about the node that’s hot and blue? Then there’s one that’s “not hot not blue.” It’s all very mysterious.

I wonder, too, if I should be worrying about this note on the report: “Middle of tissue fell out with processing.” Did they lose something important? I gave up some body parts I was busy using during that surgery. I hope they didn’t misplace them.

There are two bits on the report that look quite serious:
--The removed tumor was grade three. According to Dr. Susan Love’s Breast Book, left on my doorstep by a generous friend, tumors are usually graded 1, 2, 3. The higher the grade, the more aggressive the tumor.
--From the looks of it, at least a portion of the tumor was comprised of comedo cells. Those sound nasty. They are cells that are stuffing the breast duct and are more aggressive.

What does all this say for the future? Oncologists base the treatments they recommend on these reports along with attendant slides, x-rays, and blood work. The forms of treatment, radiation and chemotherapy, are not to be taken lightly. Neither are the drug therapies recommended for the ensuing five years. Somehow, as helpful as Dr. Love’s book is, I cannot read much of it without becoming nauseous.

I’ve decided to give up my decoder ring for the rest of the week. It’s time to have some fun before this illness wraps me completely in its tentacles.