Cancer has loomed large in my family history. Both of my grandmothers battled breast cancer, and my great-aunt lost her life to ovarian cancer. In recent years, various aunts and uncles have faced breast and prostate cancer diagnoses, and the loss of my mother to ovarian cancer in 2011 left me both devastated and frightened. I found myself thinking that it hardly mattered if I stood close to the microwave while chatting on my phone; I was convinced that cancer was in my future.
As I navigated through the profound grief of losing my mother, I was also gripped by anxiety over our family’s cancer legacy. Questions constantly haunted me: Would I succumb to cancer? Would my daughters face the same fate? Who would be next? During moments of overwhelming fear, I remembered a bizarre trip to Key West in 2006. While there with my husband, I was drawn to a palm reader’s sign along Duvall Street. Somehow, I ended up waiting to meet an elderly man draped in a long white robe. He took my hand, gazed into my eyes, and made predictions about my life—children, trust issues, financial windfalls, and living into my 80s with only heart troubles to contend with. Today, as I grapple with my fears, I still find comfort in his words.
Fast forward to last year during my routine OB/GYN visit, my doctor insisted I undergo BRCA testing. He was acutely aware of my mother’s ovarian cancer and our family’s medical history. With Angelina Jolie’s recent media coverage regarding her own BRCA journey, I felt a surge of admiration for her courage. After a lengthy discussion with my doctor, he handed me a pamphlet on BRCA testing.
I took it home but buried it under a pile of papers on my desk. The thought of undergoing testing felt too daunting; what if the results were dire? I was still grappling with my mother’s passing and feared I couldn’t bear the weight of such a reality. It was easier to remain in ignorance, and I used the testing’s high price as my excuse to avoid it.
Months slipped away, yet the thought of BRCA testing remained a constant presence in my mind. I wrestled with the implications of possibly carrying the gene. Would I have to undergo a full hysterectomy at 36? Follow in Angelina Jolie’s footsteps with a double mastectomy? Then one day, I woke up with a clear resolve—I needed to schedule my BRCA test. It was time to face the unknown for the sake of my two daughters. If I carried the gene, they deserved to know and could take proactive measures for their health. Conversely, if I didn’t have the gene, they wouldn’t inherit a risk I didn’t possess. Surprisingly, scheduling the appointment brought a sense of calm.
The day of the test was fraught with stress. Initially, the nurse wasn’t informed that I was there for BRCA testing, and I faced long delays as she attended to other patients. Finally, when it was my turn, I expected a blood draw, but instead, I was instructed to perform a Buccal Wash, gathering saliva and rinsing with Listerine to fill plastic vials. Three vials of my saliva mixed with mouthwash were sent off to a lab in Utah.
Next came the waiting game for insurance approval, which took nearly six grueling weeks. After multiple assessments, my case was deemed to present “substantial risk.” And then the waiting continued. Each night, I found myself waking in cold sweats, my stomach in knots, fearing the worst. I would gaze into my daughters’ eyes and silently hope they could forgive me if I had passed on a harmful gene. I spent hours online strategizing about potential preventive measures for my health. I dreaded the thought of how my husband might react to any change in my body.
Finally, one late afternoon in July, the long-awaited white envelope arrived.
With trembling hands, I called my husband at work. “I don’t have the genes. None of them,” I said, tears of relief streaming down my face. My daughters sensed my emotion and wrapped their little arms around me. “Mommy? Why are you sad?” they asked. I told my husband I would call him back later and knelt to embrace my girls. “Mommy is crying happy tears…” They were puzzled, but I took a deep breath and whispered, “It’s one less thing…”
This decision was made for them.
For those navigating similar paths, consider exploring resources like Understanding Secondary Infertility for coping strategies and support. Also, check out this excellent resource on Genetics and IVF for more information on genetic testing and its implications. For anyone interested in family planning, you may also want to read about the home insemination kit.
Summary
A mother’s journey through grief and anxiety over her family’s cancer history leads her to bravely confront the possibility of BRCA testing. After much contemplation, she finds the strength to pursue testing for the sake of her daughters, ultimately leading to a sense of relief and empowerment upon receiving the results.