Last week I got the call the blood test results are ready.  I chose to schedule an in-person meeting to find out the results, and today was the day.  I have spent the last week getting mentally ready.  Requested a day off work, let some close family members know the news was coming in soon, and last night my partner and I had a heart-to-heart talk.  She reminded it’s going to be ok no matter what the results are.  We can handle this, there are options, think of how strong your mom was.   That last one choked me up.

My partner and I headed over first thing this morning.  Sat in the waiting room trying to avoid over-thinking it.  Counsellor took us in closed office and asked me once more, “Do you want to know your results today?”  Breathe, “Yes.”  “Ok, I have good news… you have tested negative.”  Breathe again.  It was hard to think of what to say next.

It’s been almost five years that I first heard of BRCA.  It’s not just been on my mind, it’s been part of life for the last five years.  I spent countless hours reading up on the topic, going to screening appointments, writing out my feelings, and losing my mom along the way.  I don’t really regret delaying the testing for myself though.  I honestly felt it got easier the more time I had to integrate this possibility into my life.

One thing that hurts though is not being able to tell my mom.  She wanted to know, and she wanted to have the peace of mind I’d be ok.  I just knew I couldn’t promise to her it’d be the answer she would want to hear.  Now I just wish I could have given her that happy news and heard her breathe the sigh of relief that I had.  I’d like to believe—even I am not a believer—that maybe somehow she heard the news today regardless.


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