WE ARE BRIGHT PINK

Claudia
BWhoever said that ignorance is bliss clearly did not have BRCA1. Knowledge, on the other hand, is power. That is why, at my young age, I decided to undergo genetic testing for the mutation. Since I am only 21 years old, my family recommended that in a few years I consider testing for the BRCA1 mutation. My grandmother tested positive for the mutation just before she succumbed to ovarian cancer a year ago. My father, in turn, discovered he inherited it from his mother. I knew I had a 50/50 chance of carrying BRCA1, so why wait any longer to know which way the coin would fall?

So a few weeks ago, at the start of my senior year in college, I received a phone call that would forever change my life. The words are a blur, but I remember a soothing voice trying to gently relay the fact that my life may encounter some difficult times ahead. I, too, have the mutation, she said.

My family has been overwhelmingly supportive – and even that is an understatement. But this is still big news to digest. At first I literally could not move. All my feelings came to a halt, and I grew numb to the idea that I could actually possess something so dangerous within every cell that gives me life. The only thing I could do was to off-handedly share the news with my friends, since BRCA1 had yet to really take hold of my identity even though it clenched to the very fiber of my being. As the weeks go on, I have become cozier with this new part of who I am. I am now ready to extend an invitation to accept BRCA1 into my life, and I warmly return the embrace of this mutation.

Even though I have only known for a few short weeks, I awaken to every morning with a new sense of purpose and compassion. In fact, just the other morning, I awoke to the sound of men and women passing by my bedroom window. Hundreds of civilians came to the street dressed in brilliant shades of pink to rally in a fight against breast cancer. It brought tears to my eyes to see so many people united together for a cause that will one day most likely be an intimate part of my life. I, too, want to take a stand.

One of the last gifts my grandmother gave me is a tile with an angel rising to another miraculous morning and proclaiming: "This is the day the Lord has made, rejoice and be glad." Yes, every day is a glorious blessing. And I know have the blessing at this young age to immerse myself in compassion for others and to proactively live a long and fruitful life.