This call came just before I had surgery, and I just haven’t had time to put it up. Well, I’ve had TIME, too much, but I just didn’t do it:
“Hi, Heather? This is Wilson, from NYU? Rebecca’s assistant.”
“Yes,” I say. “The genetic counselor.”
“Yes. We just wanted to let you know that your genetic testing results came back. They’re negative.”
“Both BRCA-1 and BRCA-2?” I ask. “No genetic scrambling either?”
“No,” Wilson says.
That’s it. After hours and hours of explanations on their part, and research on my part, it turns out that genes, or rather, those genes, are not responsible for my cancer. The conversation took less than two minutes.
It’s good news. It means that I don’t have more than a 60 percent chance of recurrence even after treatment. It means that I don’t have a ridiculously high chance of getting ovarian cancer. There was a “Do not pass GO, go straight to double mastectomy and ovary excision” card out there. I do not have to pick that one up.