I had a very interesting experience in the lab today. My boss at Dana-Farber hired several months ago a pathologist to help with our mouse model work. Currently, he's on his pathology service at the hospital where I had my I/O, and out of mere scientific curiosity I asked him if he was allowed to check out my pathology slides and walk me through them. He gladly obliged, and he was even able to get the genitourinary (GU) pathologist on call to go through the nitty-gritty details of the pathological assessment.
I was really stoked to be able to see things for myself. He pulled out the slides, and we started examining them one by one, starting with the cord margin slide and a section of healthy tissue. Then came the slide with the active tumor, and that's when I froze. The GU pathologist walked me through the whole thing: "this is the tunica albuginea... here's the tumor margin... seminoma cells have the shape of fried eggs... that over here is another growth that traveled as ITGCN..." I stoically paid attention through the whole thing, but the overriding emotion was one of shock and disbelief. It was eerily similar to the feeling I had when the ER doctor was going through the diagnosis talk I had 4 months ago.
Don't get me wrong, looking at my own tumors fixed on a slide was fascinating, and it gave me more of a sense of purpose as a cancer biologist (I won't deny that deep down inside I was thinking, "Ha! I got you right before you could do more damage!"). Yet, I thought the science would shield me entirely from the emotional aspect of coming face-to-face with the enemy. I guess I should have known better. I don't regret having seen the cancer through the microscope because it made being a survivor feel more real. I've been in a somber mood since then, but I'm sure that will pass. It's good to see things in perspective, and although the emotions may be overwhelming at times, I know that I have much to live for, especially if I want to beat this to the ground in the lab.
I was really stoked to be able to see things for myself. He pulled out the slides, and we started examining them one by one, starting with the cord margin slide and a section of healthy tissue. Then came the slide with the active tumor, and that's when I froze. The GU pathologist walked me through the whole thing: "this is the tunica albuginea... here's the tumor margin... seminoma cells have the shape of fried eggs... that over here is another growth that traveled as ITGCN..." I stoically paid attention through the whole thing, but the overriding emotion was one of shock and disbelief. It was eerily similar to the feeling I had when the ER doctor was going through the diagnosis talk I had 4 months ago.
Don't get me wrong, looking at my own tumors fixed on a slide was fascinating, and it gave me more of a sense of purpose as a cancer biologist (I won't deny that deep down inside I was thinking, "Ha! I got you right before you could do more damage!"). Yet, I thought the science would shield me entirely from the emotional aspect of coming face-to-face with the enemy. I guess I should have known better. I don't regret having seen the cancer through the microscope because it made being a survivor feel more real. I've been in a somber mood since then, but I'm sure that will pass. It's good to see things in perspective, and although the emotions may be overwhelming at times, I know that I have much to live for, especially if I want to beat this to the ground in the lab.
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