A shattered dream?

Today may have been a key day in what I may go through in the future.  I saw Dr. M., a vivacious woman with a British accent and an at-first rather strict look.  However, a minute after I first met her a few years ago I loved her - as much as a patient can love their doctor.  Though not a gynecologist, she focuses exclusively on women's issues and makes them as good as can be.  Who else can put one at ease as you lay there totally exposed?  She's sweet, she's honest, and most important of all, she gives you all the information you need without feeling rushed out the door.

Today I saw her for an annual follow-up, and to fill her in on my mom's cancer history from the past year.  Immediately she was being proactive, ordering a bunch of blood tests for me just to keep a check on things, and took the time to answer my many questions about the genetic testing.  She has about 20 patients who've gone through it, and after I've been very afraid of it all, she made me feel more optimistic about it, saying how lucky we are to have this information at our disposal, which would then allow us to make decisions to be able to prevent cancer.  True, you may not leave with your body intact, but you'll be alive.

And that's when it hit me: she told me that I probably have a year and a half to have a child.  That was a strong statement, though I had suspected things all along.  I won't know for sure until after the genetic testing (which she says takes about 3-6 months for results around here), but these are the stats based on my medical history as well as my family history.  I'm grateful for her giving me honest answers, but at the same time I'm upset - upset that I had put school before my personal life, then work, saving whatever I could so that I could afford to take some time off when (I had hoped) I'd have a family.  And now I feel like a ticking time bomb.  What good is all that when those things will never happen?  You don't exactly find a Mr. Right quickly and within a few months of knowing him announce that you better have a kid now because you only have a few months left.  It feels like a world between fact and science fiction.  Dr. M. recommended removing an ovary and having it frozen; that would maintain some chance of fertility down the line.  I asked if that's experimental and she said it's now getting more common.  Not many children have been born that way yet though. 

I cried in the car for one of my biggest dreams possibly being taken away.  Over the last couple of years I finally felt that I was getting to a point where I could slow down a bit and begin to settle down.  But now that we have the power to find out medical information years before it may impact us, I can't help but ask if it is best to know.  Yes, we'll prolong our lives, but we have to sacrifice an awful lot in return.  It's a journey where we need support.

Also bought myself a box of chocolates, though that's probably not good stuff to be eating right now.  And as luck would have it, a book I had placed on hold at the library has come in: Positive Results: Making the Best Decisions When You're at High Risk for Breast or Ovarian Cancer.  It is supposed to be the best resource on the topic and is very current, having been published only this year.  I'll start reading it tonight.