"Too much quiet time in my house makes for a noisy time in my head."

So, I officially became one of those patients today…  I called my doctor's office and spoke with Jessica, the super nice nurse that administered my test.  My conversation went something like this:

Hi Jessica, this is Julie Moss.  I took that BRCA test early last week.  Hey, I know you are busy and have real things to do today, but I would feel so much better if I just had some sort of information.  I know they can't speed up my test, but I'd just like something.  I'm going crazy up in here!   

Jessica called Myriad to check on my test probably as she was noting in my chart my unstable emotional state.  All they could say was that they have my sample and are working on it.  While it's not a ton of information, it is something.  At least I know the wheels are turning.  They've confirmed my test did not fall out of the FedEx airplane.  And, no fire :).

During the day when I stay busy I am fine.  But at night, when Mason has gone to bed and Richard has started to doze off, I start to worry.  Too much quiet time in my house makes for a noisy time in my head.  Last night, right before I went to sleep (which isn't super easy these days), I remember a few tears falling down my cheeks.  It wasn't even close to a full on crying session so I clearly wasn't a total mess.  To be honest, at the time, I wasn't even sure why the tears were falling.  I was thinking that things could be SO much worse.  Tears were falling and I still felt really blessed.

I had scrolled through my Facebook page (because isn't that what people do when they can't sleep?) and saw something about a child with cancer.   I cannot begin to imagine what that kid and his parents are going through.  I know I can handle anything, but having a terminally ill kid might just do me in.  Then, this morning, I saw a video of a soldier's coffin being transported and the ceremony that takes place during the transport.  I saw that and thought that some family lost their mom/dad; siblings lost a brother/sister; and parents lost a child.  I also felt patriotic watching and impressed how hundreds of strangers stood quietly observing this stranger hero.  There is a lot of pain in this world that warrants agony and tears.  These images put my little journey into perspective.

So, as I write this, I think I know what the tears were about.  While my head, and my heart to some extent, knows that everything will be okay, my heart is scared.  Scared of what?  I'm not sure…  I know I can handle a positive result.  I know my family will do whatever it needs to do to ensure I can 'fix' whatever is wrong.  I know my marriage is solid and will only grow stronger.  I know I have the sweetest kid sleeping in the next room.  Life is f'n great good.  Actually it is WAY better than good.
I've been trying to prepare myself for a positive BRCA result, but still catch myself fantasizing about a BRCA negative result.  It's a blessing that my twin sister was tested, which prompted me to get tested.  But, its also made this process harder that I don't have the luxury to fall back on the safety of the numbers.  My sister got the comfort of knowing that only one in 500 test positive for this mutation (of course, then she got blindsided with the BRCA+ results).  I carry the weight of knowing my twin sister has the mutation, so I don't get the weeks of waiting with 'odds on my side.'  Odds are not on my side.  But, God is.  And family is.  And really, that's all that matters.

Gotta go… That's my sweet sister calling to check on me.  She's dealing with her own shitstorm journey, yet still takes the time to check in on me.  Told you, everybody deserves a Gill!