I was engaged when I discovered that I was a carrier of the BRCA gene

With my new chassan by my side, we waited in the genetic counselor’s office for the results of my testing. Her office was bright, overlooking the busy streets of New York. The walls were papered with her many academic achievements and the family picture on her desk gave me a glimpse into the happy home she must return to after her heavy days at this job. I shifted in my chair, glancing down at my to-do list, but was unable to think of anything other than the present. I looked over at my chassan and wondered what he was thinking. He smiled gently at me in an effort to calm my obvious angst.

After what seemed like forever, the genetic counselor entered the room, file in hand, a pensive look on her face. Could it actually be? I’m a healthy 26-year-old! I was going down a mental rabbit hole as she sat down and opened her file.

We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes.

Finally, she spoke. “Deleterious.”

I was a carrier.