Amy's Cancer Story

The genetic counselor agreed to see me on a very short notice.  She told me that we would go over family health history.  I told her that would be very easy since my parents are both only children (so I have not cousins and Aunts and Uncles).  We did go over some basic statistics on how women get breast cancer.  Some are reasons are from breast cancer genes that are inherited, some environmental, other genetic syndromes (known and unknown), and random events. She even said that a parent can carry the bad gene and never be effected by it and then pass it on to their children.

I had told her that my grandmother’s sister on my father’s side had died of breast cancer at 35 (in 1955).  She did not seem as concerned about that since it was not really a direct or close link to me.  The other thing that is unknown is that my mother’s father died of bone cancer in 1973.  He was misdiagnosed.  At first they thought it was arthritis in his back, and then after it was too late they found out what was really going on.  The doctors had no idea where it started from.  So it is not known what caused his primary cancer and how it could be effecting me or anyone in my family.  Two of his three brothers died of colon cancer.  My doctor said that my bone cancer is not an inherited cancer it is most likely a genetic defect.

I wish I had had the opportunity to meet my great aunt but she past away well before my time.  I do remember my grandfather.  One thing that stands in my mind is when I had gone to visit his home on Long Island, NY.  While there, I had gone shopping at a Christmas store with my mom and grandma.  I found what I thought was the coolest rock in the parking lot and insisted on bringing it home.  When I had gotten home that evening, I remember telling my grandfather that I wanted to paint it.  We had to leave in the morning and would not have time to do it.  I was very disappointed.  When I had gotten up in the morning, my grandfather had gone to a lot of trouble to paint it for me.  It was sponged painted black and white and had red speckles all over.  Now how cool is that?  And I still have it.

The last time I saw him was another trip to NY not to much later in the year.  I had drawn him a picture of my hand and had it all folded up for him.  He was so sick in bed at home that he could not even open it and so I opened it for him.  He seemed to really like it.  It was the last time I saw him.  I wish he had been around longer to get to know him better.

Me sitting on my Grandpa’s lap.