Letters to My Girls

To Test or Not To Test. Cancer is The Question.

Dear Girls,

I went to the doctor recently to find out how much closer to menopause I am now than I was last year.  During the appointment, along with the usual tests that are ordered, I was offered a new test to determine if I have a certain cancer gene.

The test is for relatives of those who have had colon cancer, uterine and ovarian cancer, and pancreatic cancer.  The three cancers are linked, and there is a common gene that, if identified by the test, increases your chances of developing one of those cancers by as much as 70%. 

Unfortunately, I have all three of those cancers in my family, so the chances that I could test positive for this gene are reasonably high. 

Now, I'm not afraid to find out if I have that gene.  The fact is, since my dad, my sister, and my grandfather have all died from those cancers, I've been more vigilant about getting unusual symptoms checked.  I learned a long time ago that worrying about getting cancer is useless, so finding out my chances are high doesn't make a huge difference to the way I live my life. 

Nevertheless, making a decision on whether to have the test, or not, has been difficult.

Sure, if I knew I had the gene, I could be even more focused on testing and prevention.  I could have a hysterectomy to prevent the possibility of getting estrogen-based cancer.  I could get mammograms and colonoscopies more often.  There could be drug studies or treatments open to me that might not be without knowing.  You might think this is the most responsible way to respond. 

Beyond the obvious - the stress of knowing cancer would be lurking in the background for the rest of my life - there are even more difficult issues we would have to face.

It's clear that insurance companies deny claims and/or eligibility to people who cost them money.  Just because it's illegal for insurance companies to deny coverage for people who test positive for this cancer gene, doesn't mean they won't, either now or in the future.  Laws change.  The denial of coverage could wipe us out financially. 

Suddenly, the decision isn't just about me anymore. 

Then, there's the very real possibility that, if I have the gene, you may as well.  I am not only completely mentally unprepared to test you children, the idea of trying to explain to you how to hear and respond to the information is beyond daunting.  As adults, we can deal with the realities we face when it comes to our own life, illness, and eventually, death.   I can't even conceive of what it might be like to manage my own child's potential health concerns.  And, I have no idea what it would be like, as a child, to manage the constant threat of illness.  

I've asked the advice of friends and family.  And, I sit quietly with the idea of having the test.  I haven't decided yet.  I can see benefits and drawbacks to either decision.  I don't particularly want to be a martyr, but I certainly don't want to cause the mental or financial demise of my family.  I don't want to have cancer, but knowing I have the gene doesn't mean I will or won't get the disease.  We also have heart disease in my family, a deadly alternative, and I don't do much to prevent it for myself.  There are other types of cancers on dad's side of the family.  I drive a car.  I occasionally cross busy streets on foot.   I drink cola every now and then.

Making decisions isn't easy.  There are always consequences to making decisions, some foreseeable, some not.  You'll make mistakes, and learn from them. You'll change your mind. You won't always have support from others for decisions you make.   No question - these life-changing ones are tough, but infinitely, life-affirmingly, worth it. 

I love you both,

Mommy

 

Super-Glue and the Urge to Extricate

My darling girls:

I was thinking about Super-Glue this weekend.  When you get Super-Glue on your fingers and then press them together, they stick, right?  What's the next thing you do?

I don't know what you do - maybe you are calm, cool, and collected in the face of fingers stuck together.  What do I do?  I pull them apart.  I don't just try to pull them apart - my fingers panic and they pull apart all by themselves, no matter how hard I try to stop them.  In fact, because my fingers are so intent on being apart, they don't really care if they have to tear themselves up to do it.  A little bit 'o thumb on my forefinger; a little smidge of forefinger on my thumb. 

This has me thinking about human nature and what happens to us when faced with uncomfortable changes.  And, it has me thinking about how I personally react to that feeling. 

As I've grown, educated myself, experienced more, and take more calculated risks with my life, my first response to being trapped isn't panic anymore.  More often, I shake my head a little, roll my eyes, and think, "Fuck me!"  (Yes, Virginia, I do use the "F" word occasionally.) Then I figure out how much danger I'm in, what my options are, and extricate myself.  (Lately, I'm also thinking about what the experience will look like in blog-form.  Go figure!)

I suppose you might think, then, that you grow older and wiser, and therefore handle things better, but I don't really think that's always true.  I also think that handling things well is situation-dependent.  Anything you haven't thought through or experienced before can tend to bring on that same sense of panic.  And of course, there's the Super-Glue factor - the idea that a permanent change to something you've taken for granted all your life is worthy of the most volatile reaction.

So, then I wonder whether I am now too restrained when it comes to extricating myself from difficult situations.  Have I evolved so much as a human being that I no longer have that natural adrenaline, that response to get away when a threat appears?  And why, in the face of something so benign as Super-Glued fingers, wouldn't I choose to just go upstairs, get the acetone, and calmly correct the situation?  Why do glued fingers inspire such drastic human response?

I think in my mid-forties, I've come to trust myself well enough to know I can handle just about any situation.  There isn't really much in life that remains mysterious to me if I'm interested in it, and I'm not afraid to explore things to which I once would have fearfully shut my eyes.  And, having seen the circle of life play itself out so many times around me, I know that the worst possible result of any difficult situation is death, and that the chances of it are unlikely under most circumstances. 

So, going back to the start of this dicussion - why do glued fingers still make me automatically want to pull them apart, in spite of the damage it causes?  Is it because I know the pain and potential blood involved is survivable?  Is it because the feeling of losing control over a lifelong relationship with my fingers is so uncomfortable that I have to get them back to normal, even if it means a painful process to get there? 

I don't  know the answers (yet), but I hope you'll take this away: 

Educate yourselves on everything you can.  Knowledge and experience help you evaluate difficult situations and react more appropriately.  And, know that it isn't necessary to hurt yourself to get out of a sticky mess, but it helps to know that if you do, you'll survive. 

With love,

Mommy 

 

The Start of School; The Stress of the Parent

by Lorie Fuller

You can practically feel the crackle in the air as mothers everywhere send their kids back to school.  My own kids will start back on Monday. 

Attending school today myself, I was shuffled through a line to do paperwork, pay fees, get uniforms, and be patient behind the stressed-out parents in front of me.  I was a lucky one - my kids were home this morning with Dad as I braved the school cafeteria, and I didn't need to get to a 9-5:00 job like most of the parents. 

Nevertheless, I'm feeling stressed.  I have a dozen important dates on my calendar for the next week, alone, and I'm constantly worried about forgetting something. I volunteered to be room-mom for my daughter's pre-school class.  I paid an astronomical amount of money for a few polyester uniforms, and will still end up "cheating" a bit because I simply can't send my kid to school wearing a hot, polyester shirt, so I may end up at the principal's office on the first day. 

I admit I avoided many of the fee-based programs and fund-raising options this morning.  Things like purchasing cookbooks or baked goods, grocery totes, the Birthday Book Club, and etc.  The fact is, there are new fees each week at school for everything from the numerous photographs taken (remember the days when school photos were once per year?), to book fairs, outings, auctions...something every week.  There are days I feel as though I'm choosing grade school over college in terms of cost.  I do the best I can, I do my part, but I have to pick and choose. 

On top of it, the politics at my kids' school are intense.  In fact, because of recent events involving the removal of students with same-sex parents, I feel as though I'm betraying my own set of values by sending my children to school where the administration discriminates against certain children.  The choice to continue for one more year was gut-wrenching. 

I feel incredibly lucky that I adore the my daughters' teachers, trust them implicitly, and know they love my kids.  I feel good that we can discuss issues and find solutions, and that they aren't afraid to tell me the good and the not-so-good about my kids so that we partner in raising them.  I'm grateful for the parents, who, like me, struggled with their decision to send their kids this year, and who exchange looks of support with me daily.  I'm thankful that my daughters have lovely friends at school - the sweetest, smartest kids who amaze me daily. 

The bottom line?  I want my kids to get a good education, and I will be supportive to those who directly impact that education.  But, the weight of responsibility that goes with it is suffocating at the moment.  And, it has never been more important to suck it up, put a smile on my face, and be 110% there for my kids and their school.  I'll take it one day at a time. 

___________________________________________________

As a parent, do you feel stressed at the start of the school year, or are you relieved that your kids are back in a routine?