My neurologist performed the test that would determine whether or not I had the same disease that killed my brother. That conversation was so dramatic it really should have had it’s own soundtrack.
Dr. Smith: “What will you do if you test positive?”
Me: “Die sooner than I had planned.”
I finally received the results after the autopsy report came back. The autopsy report confirmed that it was not genetic. The phone call reporting my negative test result was anti-climactic.
I felt guilty for life; for not having this horrible disease. I keep wondering if I will make the most of what feels like a second chance.
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