In the beginning…..
I am assuming some of my readers will know all the basics. But I am hoping (fingers crossed) to attract people to my blog that don’t know me in “real” life. So I have to go over the boring backstory.
I was born July 28, 1982 in Newton, MA. I grew up in a little town named Sharon, MA. My parents were high school sweethearts, who ended up giving me a brother, Jon, in 1985 and a sister, Erica, in 1986.
Fast forward to today and I am married to Brian. We live in Norton, MA. We have two freaking adorable little boys. Grayson is 3 and Bryce is 1. They keep us BUSY! Good thing they are cute. They can both be devilish and they certainly keep us on our toes. We also have a cat named Lola and a Chihuahua named Trixie.
My BRCA journey started when I was 28. My mother had had Breast Cancer when she was 46 and thankfully, is ok today. Her mother died of Ovarian Cancer when she was 52. When my mom was diagnosed, they offered her genetic testing because of the young age her mom got sick. My mom tested positive for the BRCA2 gene mutation. She had a lumpectomy, chemo and radiation and now, in 2020, is thankfully cancer free.
My mother’s Oncologist then suggested genetic testing for her children. There was a 50/50 chance she had passed it on to us. I agreed to go see the genetic counselor with my sister for an informational session but at the end, even though my sister decided to go forward with the blood test, I declined. I have a weird needle phobia. And by weird, I mean I have 11 tattoos, 9 ear piercings and a belly ring but I cannot get my blood drawn or have an IV inserted without MAJOR anxiety and panic. I know. It makes zero sense.
Fast forward to a few years later and the same Oncologist asked my mom if I had changed my mind about getting tested. My mom explained that although I was curious to learn my results, I was a huge baby and wouldn’t get a blood test. Oh, but guess what? They had developed a spit test! So off I went to huck a couple loogies into a test tube.
On the day I went to the genetic counselor to learn my results, I went alone. I was dating someone at the time but not very seriously….and besides in my head, I just must have gotten my dad’s good gene. Right? So, I figured it was ok to go alone to learn my results. Results that could potentially change my life….
And guess what? I tested positive. And it was hard to hear. And I cried to a complete stranger. And then the panic set in……
Love and boobies,
Allison
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