A few minutes after stepping out of the shower, my chest began to tighten and the ragged breathing followed. I tried my "normal" coping strategies, but to no avail. So, with all the awkwardness I could muster, I began talking out loud. "Lord, I can't breath!"...gasp..."I'm feeling overwhelmed!"...gasp... "I'm feeling very ridiculous doing this!" (as I peer through the crack of the door to make sure no one is listening) ...gasp... I refuse to let this attack get worse and I turn around to face the mirror. I notice a Bible verse I had stuck in it and speak, "I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in His word I put my hope." As my brain starts to list things His word says, my breathing returns to normal and my thoughts clear. The panic attack was just mild and the new coping skill my trauma/grief coach suggested I try, worked. This was a "God-moment" for sure and something my heart and mind needed so much that day. About an hour later while recounting the episode to my hubby, I grabbed the paper that the verse was written on and uncovered another scripture that I had stuck up which had fallen behind the other. "I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety." (Psalm 61:2) Do you see what I mean by God being in that moment? So, because I am practicing this new coping technique of speaking out loud the words I try to ignore and not deal with, I thought it might be beneficial to share my journey thus far.

Come back with me to 2020 ... It is several months after my sister's death and I get a message from my brother saying he tested negative for BRCA2, a gene that runs on our dad's side. A gene we were made aware of a good ten years earlier. And a test Sister and I decided not to do so we could live without worrying (really it was so we didn't have to face the truth). Brother encouraged me to get tested which caused some discord between us, solely on my part. Eventually, I relented and got my referral to the genetics clinic.

June 2021, the vampires took my blood and sent it away for testing. The end of September I had a "Zoom" meeting with my genetics counsellor and a doctor - a tell-tale sign right there. It wasn't until the words were spoken that it became real. I was now facing the truth, the absolute reality that I had only quietly assumed all these years. So, this gene, this tiny little gene that we now know my father had and was without a doubt what caused Sister's cancer, this evil mutant that caused many deaths in my family, is in me. I am BRCA2 positive! For those that may be wondering what this means: my chances of getting ovarian or breast cancer are astronomically more than the general public. At this time, there are no screening methods to detect ovarian cancer until it is advanced, but there are several screening methods for breast cancer (alternating mammogram and ultrasound every six months plus physician assessment). There are also preventative surgeries.

Join me back in the bathroom. What brought on my mild panic attack was the spiraling thoughts of everything that had taken place over the past month. On top of going through another wave of grieving my sister and dealing with past traumas...again, I have this overwhelming stress of my health. Things seemed to be moving slow which I expected from COVID, then May arrived. I met with a gynecologist and will be having an oophorectomy end of summer beginning of fall. I also met with a surgeon to discuss a bilateral mastectomy. Based on some issues I already have and the type of cancer my sister had, I opted to have this procedure done. The date for surgery is set for June 30. Some days it is dizzying and it seems like a bad dream that I am even here in this place.

Thankfully, God led me to a wonderful coach who is helping me let God rewrite my story. Really trusting Him this time which means giving up all control. Control is something I have never given up completely in any trial I have gone through. I have always tried to hang on to something that I thought I could do better or just didn't want to release and trust someone else with. Having said that, picture this: me (Mrs. Do-It-All, Independent, Can't-Sit-Still-For-Too-Long) almost incapacitated for 2-3 months, possibly longer. Talk about a cruel joke right?! However, this is no joke, this is going to be my reality very shortly. I am going to need someone to wash my hair and put my deodorant on. Never have I ever been so helpless since I was an infant. (I was walking by eight months.) This has almost been a bigger issue for me than the surgery. I will be working on being vulnerable and anticipating new bonding moments between the special people in my life. A special surprise my loving Lord gave me this week was my mommy will be with me before and after surgery. I had secretly wanted her here with me, but knew it wasn't something that would workout, however, the timing and previous trip plans will allow for it. And here I thought I could arrange things better than God. Anyway, the countdown is on and I'm trying to do as many things as I possibly can. 🙂 I plan to continue documenting this journey and I pray the things I learn can in some way encourage you.