[Tom]

So I thought I was safe on the sidelines of the breast cancer war. Ha! So much for the "vacation". I stopped a week ago to visit a couple that I have been friends with since the 70's. I hadn't seen them in years. As I sat chatting with my transplanted friends from communist Hungary, the woman calmly announces to me that she has breast cancer. I was stunned. She asked me if I knew anything about it, and I said that I did at one time but hadn't been keeping up on it like I used to when Mom was battling it. We discussed her case a little, and I offered to go with her to see a surgeon a discuss a plan of treatment. Little did I know what I was in for.

We travelled to the University of Pennsylvania, specifically the new Rowan Breast Center. I had not been anywhere near the U of P since Mom got her wings, and I felt my anxiety going up the closer we got. The new center is nothing short of spectacular. It is well thought out and even has parking in the same building. Imagine that. In Philadelphia, parking in the same county as the destination is a rare thing. This facility is nothing short of a state-of-the art, one stop diagnostics and treatment center for breast cancer. Women in this area will benefit greatly from this place.

The best was yet to come. We sat for quite a while in a spacious waiting room, and then were summoned to see the doctor. He went over the pathology with my friend, who after all these years still struggles a little with the many oddball subtlties of the English language. He told her that she had an unusal type of breast cancer. He calmly told her that her cancer was known as a HER2+3, Er-/Pr- cell type. My mouth dropped open. You have got to be kidding me, I thought silently. Some weird thoughts raced through my head, including Al Pacino's line in Godfather III where he says, "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in".

The lengthy conversation that followed with this remarkable man, was nothing short of fascinating to me. I suspect that the things I learned next are nothing new to all of you guys, as you have all been up to date on the latest toys and strategies for battling the Beast. But the things I heard over the next thirty minutes were stunning.

The surgeon's name is Dr. Brian Czerniecki, and he is running the clinical trials on a vaccine for early stage HER2. The wonderful conversation I had with this unassuming, arrogance-free physician left me ever so hopeful for my friend as well as all of you. Despite his casual bedside manner and willingness to go way beyond the extra mile in explaining these complex details to his patients, this man is clearly passionate and totally obsessed with succesfully developing an effective vaccine for HER2 cancers. From what I have heard so far, he and his colleauges are well on their way to making history in the treatment of breast cancer.

Patients in the trial undergo plasmapheresis at the beginning of the treatment, having their own immune cells sensitized to produce an immune response to HER2. After the initial series of administrations of the tailored vaccine, the patient undergoes their surgery, and is susequently followed up for an extended period of time.

I won't go into the details of my friend's plan until she has decided exactly what route she is comfortable with and gives me the OK to openly discuss her case on this forum. I will simply say that another little miracle took place yesterday, and gave me one of the small moments of the happiness I have missed since Mom passed away. I will try to write when I can and let you know what's going on. Take care all, and remember that I think (and worry) about all of you on this website every day.

Sincerely,
Tom