My other other half.

Misery loves company.  And mutants love other mutants.  My favourite mutant is my sister Ansley, who also had the good luck of inheriting the breast cancer gene from our mother.  We were already really close, and now we're almost symbiotically fused.

The funny thing is, Ansley and I are both happy that we're both mutants.  I know how weird that sounds.  When I tell people about getting tested, and that finding out that we both had the BRCA mutation made us feel kind of relieved, most people look at me like I'm crazy.  Or they're just silent.  Which is equivalent to thinking that I'm crazy.

OF COURSE I would be happier if neither of us were mutants.  I would be happier if our family wasn't riddled with cancer, and I would be happier if Ansley and I were spared the grief and heartache that came with watching so many of our family members die in our formative years.

But that's not the way things are, so I don't dwell on that.

In the real world, my sister and I have an unbreakably strong relationship because we went through all that crap together.  We have always been a team.  We go through things together.  And we were a team up until the point when we received our BRCA results.  We knew that if one of us had the mutation, and one of us didn't, then things would be weird.  We wouldn't be the same anymore.  And we were both afraid that would break up our team a little bit.

We talked a LOT about this before we received the results.  We knew there was nothing to be done - the mutation was either there, or it wasn't.  But we hoped we were the same.

When we sat down with the genetic counselor who gave us our results, he asked if we were ready to hear them.  Ansley said that before she heard the results, she first wanted to know if we had the same result, or if they were different.  When the guy said that we had the same result, we both literally sighed.  We were so relieved that we were still a team, and that we weren't going to be separated.  THEN we found out that we both had the mutation.  But honestly, that part wasn't as emotional as finding out that we were the same.  (it became more emotional later)

For the last two years, Ansley and I have gone to every appointment together.  We book our exams back-to-back, or just demand that the doctors see us at the same time.  Secretly, I think those medical secretaries see us coming and they're scared.  We're a force to be reckoned with, especially when we're in the same room together.

Ansley's not having a mastectomy with me.  She'll probably have one in the future, but the timing has to be right for her.  And that's her decision, and I'll be right there to support her when it's her turn.  Just like she's been right there for me at every move.