Unwritten

12 Mar

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A wise friend recently implored me to get tested for the BRCA gene. Up until then, I was fearfully disinterested. My mother and maternal grandmother and aunts were all diagnosed with breast cancer at one point or another, and some, like my mother and grandmother, received multiple diagnoses. I have grown up watching women I love fight brave battles and then go on to live their lives as extraordinary survivors, putting scars and tears behind them. Nevertheless, my friend was persuasive and, because I love and respect her, I promised her I would get tested. And so I did.

My blood was drawn in December. I did not even think about it until I was told the results were in. They tried to schedule an appointment for me immediately prior to a February family vacation. I refused. Although I assumed I would test negative for the gene, what if I didn’t? What if it was positive and I had this heavy secret to carry around the beaches of Punta Cana? I postponed my appointment for one month.

Upon my return from vacation, I had my routine mammogram. I constantly see doctors throughout the year as a means of surveillance. I have an annual pelvic ultrasound and breast MRI. I see a breast specialist and my OB/GYN twice a year. I do everything I possibly can short of prophylactic surgery. And, like my mother and grandmother, I’m just living my life without focusing on what for them, has been, or what for me, could be. My mammogram was normal, making me two years older than my young mother when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer. A milestone.

I did not realize that my appointment for my BRCA results was today until I looked at my calendar on Monday. Thinking I had little chance of having this gene, I asked no one to accompany me to the appointment and intentionally did not even tell my mother I was being tested. After being kept waiting for an hour, allowing maximal anxiety to fester, the doctor finally told me that I do not carry the BRCA gene.

And then I lost my shit. I wept. I stopped breathing. I reacted enough for the doctor to suggest I have a drink. It was 11 am. It was actually a good idea. Why didn’t I bring a drinking buddy and confidante to this appointment? I am an idiot. And then, because this appointment involved genetic counseling, we discussed my options. There are other genes associated with breast cancer although their detection is not as reliable and there are wide margins showing your chances of getting several types of cancer throughout the course of your life. These genes are not as thoroughly studied as the BRCA genes. Importantly, it is likely that this testing would reveal that I do carry such genes, as my mother too tested negative for the BRCA gene.

It is one thing to know, with a definitive statistical probability, your chances of a breast cancer diagnosis and taking intelligent, aggressive, surgical safety measures. It is another thing altogether to lay awake at night after you tucked your children into bed and ponder the weight of potential cancers that decided to show up in your genome. So screw that. My life is not fully written and I am it’s sole author. I’m going to politely decline the benefits of this scientific advancement, thank you, in favor of sleep, peace of mind, and taking life as it comes: unplanned, not always pretty in the details, but wholly beautiful nonetheless.

After phoning my mother to tell her the news, and fogging up the windows of my parked car with my own suffocating relief and tears, I decided to just love the day. My son asked me to pick him up from school. I did. I took him for frozen yogurt AND a cupcake on this first sunny day in one of the longest winters I can remember.  He told me all about his day in great detail. I hope he never stops. It is a luxury to have a mind free enough of worry and knowledge to listen to him and his stories. Because his life is not fully written either.

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4 Responses to “Unwritten”

  1. aqiqah07 March 12, 2015 at 2:19 am #

    Follow me

  2. salesgirl19 March 12, 2015 at 3:44 pm #

    Thank you for sharing!

  3. loneliwolf March 14, 2015 at 8:11 am #

    Прочитал Ваше сообщение о раке. Мне хочется Вам помочь. Я написал ,почему люди болеют. С уважением Виктор.zu.vic.an@gmail.com

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