More results...

So part of this BRCA journey has been about researching my family.  We know I inherited my mutation from either my mother or father.  My mother seemed the most-likely source, but my father's side is not without suspicion as well.  On the same day that I had my BSO, my mother had genetic testing done.  Yesterday we got the results, confirming that I did indeed inherit my mutation from her, as she also carries the same mutation.  Since we knew it had to come from either parent, no news was going to be welcome.  If it hadn't been my mom, that meant it would be my dad.  All this does is give us more information...and who we should share it with.

My mother is a strong, strong woman.  She kicked breast cancer in the butt 15 years ago.  She never once complained.  This isn't to say that she didn't struggle.  I am sure that she had her moments both physically and mentally.  But she carried on.  What else can one do?  So she received the news of her mutation in stride.  We joked on the phone.  I cried, "We're mutants!" She laughed.  I told her that I wish with our mutation we had also acquired some super powers like the X-Men.  She laughed again.  She is actually a bit of a worrier.  More so for the people she loves than for herself.  She is fierce in her motherly love for her children.  I know that she would do anything to protect my brother and me...even as we are both grown adults in our 40's.  I am glad that she is taking the time to seek out the information from specialists and not jumping into anything.  She is 15 years NED!  That's huge.  Most of the statistics we can find on recurrence go out 5-10years.  She's kind of blown all that out of the water.  So she sent her results to her siblings and cousins...and we go from here.

The one thing that came out of her results that I didn't expect, was that I became acutely aware of the fact that my own children carry a 50% chance of having this mutation as well.  I knew that before, but somehow, it became more real for me.  After dinner, I watched my two kids playing on the living room floor.  My daughter, from all appearances and behavior seems to have soaked up more of my DNA than her brother.  I worry for her. I worry for my son as well.  I guess I am like my mom.

In closing, I do have to say that I owe my life to my mother.  She may have unknowingly passed on this mutation, but she gave me so much amazing stuff as well.  She nurtured me, supported me, cheered me on.  She has been there for me through thick and thin.  We have had our ups and downs through the years, but one thing has always been constant.  I have never once in my life questioned her love for me.  And in some ways, she has saved my life.  Her cancer, her fight...it brought everything into my radar.  Because of that I got tested and am taking steps to decrease my risk.  She is remarkable.  And I love her more than anything.