I need to get tested.

For the past two weeks, I have been looking at my hands, holding my hands, typing with my hands. I have come to the same conclusion every day: my hands are not my own. This is different from the every day thought - I can't talk today - I wonder if I have HD? I shouldn't have tripped over that little bump in the sidewalk - do I have HD?

It's strange. I still feel life pulsing through them, and I can still completely control them - but there seems to be some unnamable element that makes them not mine. It's a completely terrifying feeling. If it's not HD, I need to go see the doctor about what it is.

If it is HD, I never thought it would come this early. This changes every thing. How can I think about having a baby if I'm already showing symptoms at 26? It would be wrong to do that to DH, to make him care for me and a young child, and it would be wrong to do that to a child - I had no problem having children if I tested positive because I could at least give them 10 years of love and life - and if I can't do that? What am I here for, then? As cliche and anti-feminist as it is, my one desire and goal in life has been to become a stay at home mom, taking care of my family.

I know these are a lot of speculations. And it's a huge leap. But there is something in my hands that is scaring me to pieces right now.

It is so hard to remember sometimes that my whole life is in His hands.

To know or not to know?

This past winter, I was quite sure that I was going to begin the process to get tested. I spoke with my family doctor (to let her know what I’m considering and find out whether or not I can count on her to learn about this disease and its challenges and treatments with me), and I contacted the Huntington Society office in our area to get a referral for the genetic counseling. Shortly after, my doctor went on Mat leave and has notified us that she will not be returning to her practice. The Society never returned my call or email.

I let the idea gently slip from my mind, as it is much easier to avoid the topic in my head. B asks now and again if I’ve made any progress, he thinks that he’s anxious to go through the testing with me. It’s just so much work to gear up for it again in my head! Am I really ok with finding out right now? Will B still want to have children with me if I test positive? If so, should we have children right away so that I can spend more time with our children as me and not as a pHD? Should we consider IVF in order to stop the transmission of the gene in our line? Is IVF ethical if I don’t believe that abortion is right?

So many questions. So little answers.

I have decided, however, that in my life I will rarely turn down the chance to try something new - at least once. Last year I did a free fall from the height of 152’ which terrified the living daylights out of me. You see, I am a person who is rather afraid of heights. And of falling off things. You might be able to see how this is a bad combination for me. This Saturday, B and I are going to start wind surfing lessons. In October or November, we’ll get our Scuba certification. We’re hoping that we can put some of these adventure sports to use on our trip to South America at Christmas! We don’t have a lot of money to spare, and we do still have a significant debt load from our undergrad days, so it’s hard for me to justify spending the money on these lessons. However, if it turns out I’m gene positive, I don’t want to have missed out on the chance to do these things while I was still physically able and mentally willing to do them.