I’m not sick. Not even just a little bit … So, why would I do this?
In a few hours I’ll be lying on an operating table having a “partial hysterectomy.” And I’m doing it because I can.
Or, at least, because should. I think.
The intention is to remove parts of my anatomy that might, maybe, could, possibly end up with ovarian cancer sometime in my life — due to a recently discovered genetic mutation that says so.
God bless modern science! I support it, and am grateful for such cutting-edge research and protocols.
But, it does give me pause …
How proactive and prophylactic can — or should — we be in this brave new world of medicine?
I wonder what other mutations are hiding there in my twisty DNA life story? And for that matter, do I really want to know? What other parts of me need to be cut out? Or, given such knowledge, perhaps of inoperable parts — or even low-percentage likelihoods — how would I then live the rest of my life?
Which is better: Knowledge and a proactive approach to life-threatening diseases? Or blissful ignorance?
Today, I’m choosing the former.
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