Questions and answers

What do you think, he asked, Would you want to know?

I was about to answer instantly, but stopped to organize my answer and by doing so, clarify my thoughts on the matter. My mind raced around the idea so I could quickly form an intellegent response and not leave my father hanging on the other end of the telephone call with empty air.

He was calling about mom, and gene testing in particular, and whether I'd want to know if, through the process she would soon be undertaking, it were discovered that I was genetically predisposed to whatever degenerative condition she is slowly losing ground, would I want to know that now, at the present, while I am healthy and active and with the rest of my life ahead of me. I thought I knew my answer to his question, it seemed straight forward, but I stumbled when I started to speak, obviously not entirely certain.

Sure, I said, Why not? We blindly go through so much of this life not knowing what might be around the next bend, and while that certainly makes things interesting and far from dull, we can't escape the fact that one day each of us will reach the end of our journey here, and maybe by knowing ahead of time, perhaps early enough for science and medicine to provide assistance, we can lessen or maybe even eliminate much of what mom is currently going through. Shouldn't we give it a shot? Maybe it's just me, but I' d rather know my enemy going into a fight if I had the opportunity.

I've been sick again this week, thanks to the boy; we each had kicked that cold finally and were returning to feeling like our normal energetic and capable selves (well except for last weekend's migraine, but that's almost my new normal these days anyways) when Tuesday afternoon he returned home from school sniffling and blowing his nose with increasing frequency, and then coughing that deep chesty productive cough... Just my luck, I went from migraine to sinus headache and cold symptoms overnight.

I blame February and its final arctic blast that it threw at us this week, more bitter cold temperatures just when it seemed we were making progress. The days are getting longer and there's warmth in the sun's rays finally too; more birds singing in the morning light, and the squirrels are more active again on the wires and in the highway of branches in the skies out back, but once again we're reminded that we aren't the ones in charge here really, and we're forced to bundle up again or still, and leave that wishful Springtime thinking for later days.

Kinda like mom. The doctor's are still trying to provide her and dad with a definite diagnosis for her condition; she's lost most of the use of her lower extremities now and relies on a wheelchair for mobility, and her memory and judgement have certainly been affected by something as well, whether from the same disease or issue they aren't certain, so testing is ongoing as they try and put some label on her increasingly declining physical and mental health. The experts certainly aren't in the know, and mom is most definitely not in control of her fate at this point, that much is obvious.

Dad was also calling to get my input on the hospital's request for background family medical history as a tool to help them zero in on her diagnosis. She'll be visiting the Genetics Clinic here in the city next month, and as a first step in their attempt to provide an accurate clinical diagnosis of her condition as well as treatment options and the likelihood of recurrence of the condition in family members, they have forwarded a form for dad to fill out and bring with them. It asks for a basic family tree of sorts for mom, and along with the usual names and birthdates and dates of death of her mother and father and siblings and their children and her grandparents and dad's parents and siblings etc, they'd like any relevant medical information that might be useful in helping them with their work.

Not exactly a simple task at the best of times, nevermind one month before said appointment.

But, you do what you have to do, and since I've got a file folder full of family history facts, he called me and I promised him I'd find what he needs as best I can with what I have in my posession, but we both knew he'd be making a few phonecalls in the coming weeks asking for help from the ones who are usually there when you need them at times like these: your family.

So he'll be foraging along the branches of our family tree asking questions in search of information that may yield the fruits of medical knowledge of mom's affliction, like those squirrels in the trees out back: Hoping for Spring, but finding Mom's Winter still in full force.

I think I'd want to know the answers to those questions long before they needed to be answered, don't you?