Tracie Has a Date with a Vampire: My BRCA Gene Test Experience
The Geneticist Visit
Going through breast cancer testing can be overwhelming, especially when you’re facing a BRCA gene test. Today was my big appointment with the geneticist, and let me tell you—it was a lot, as if every other appointment hasn’t been a lot.
First up was Laurie, the nurse who did my vitals and gave me the play-by-play of what was about to happen. She warned me it would be a lot of information, and she wasn’t wrong.
After donning the oh-so-fashionable hospital johnny, I met the doctor. He was kind (a little quirky, but kind), and immediately started firing off questions: where I was born, where my grandparents were born, where my great-grandparents were from. Honestly, if I’d known he was going to get that detailed, I would have brought my family tree printout.
Then came the BRCA gene test talk. I was already about 99% sure I didn’t have the BRCA mutation—Twin A and I both did the 23andMe DNA test, and mine came back clear. Now, I’m not naïve enough to put all my faith in a mail-in spit test, but it gave me a little reassurance.
The exam itself was surprisingly thorough—more so than a regular physical. Yes, there was the usual breast exam, but he also checked reflexes and ran through other tests. All the while, he kept up a steady stream of chit-chat (everything from teaching to stuffed shells to growing up in the Bronx). I think it was meant to put me at ease, but as a hardcore introvert, it left me strung tighter than a guitar string.
Enter the Vampire
After that came the lab. Nurse Laurie escorted me to get my blood drawn, and of course, there was a delay. Which meant more small talk (my personal kryptonite). She had a single purple tube ready for the BRCA gene test… but 
waiting for me on the lab table? Fourteen more tubes. Yes, fourteen.
Now, I don’t have great veins on the best of days, and I don’t bleed easily (unless I’m shaving, then it’s Niagara Falls). But Angel John, the phlebotomist—aka my vampire—managed to hit the vein on the first try after much slapping and tourniquet tightening. He somehow coaxed out blood for all fifteen tubes before my vein gave up.
Just when I thought we were done, he realized he needed more. My poor vein said absolutely not. So John had to play “rob Peter to pay Paul,” siphoning from one vial to top off another. Honestly? Not my problem.
And then—because clearly fifteen tubes wasn’t enough—he asked for a urine sample. At that point, I wasn’t sure I had any liquid left in my body, but being the good patient I am, I gave it the old college try.
The Waiting Game
So here I am, waiting for the BRCA gene test results. I’m still confident I don’t carry the BRCA mutation (thanks, 23andMe), but I’m not about to put all my eggs in that basket. The lab gave me a code to track my test results online, and yes—I’ll be checking it obsessively and trying to be positive at the same time.
In the meantime, I know the geneticists are looking at other markers too, so it’ll be interesting to see what comes back. Waiting, as Tom Petty so wisely sang, is the hardest part.
If you’re curious about what the BRCA gene test actually measures and why it matters, the
National Cancer Institute has a great overview of BRCA mutations.
They explain how these gene changes can increase cancer risk and why testing is recommended for some families.
Another excellent resource is
Breastcancer.org’s guide to genetic testing,
which breaks down the testing process in everyday language. For me, going through this was as much about peace of mind as it was about results—and I know a lot of people facing the same questions want as much solid information as possible.
