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How a Genetic Test Changed My Life
As a teen, Lauren Holder learned that a cruel and fatal disease was stalking her family — and that she might have inherited the gene for it from her dad. Now 30, she shares her journey to discover the truth.
BY LAUREN HOLDER AS TOLD TO VIRGINIA SOLE-SMITHDec 19, 2015COURTESY OF LAUREN HOLDER
When I was 5, my grandpa Rose took my dad and me out on his boat off the coast of Florida, where we live. It was a hot, bright day, and as the boat skimmed over the water, I asked my dad to put up the sunshade so we could cool off.
It was a small request, but Grandpa Rose exploded in rage: ""No! We're not doing that!"" Then he began to curse. I was shocked, but my dad wasn't. As I would soon find out, violent outbursts were the norm for Grandpa Rose and had been for some time. His reputation as a cruel abuser was no secret in our family.
And then, 10 years later, Grandpa Rose became someone else entirely to me. That was the day my aunt told me he had Huntington's disease (HD).
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Fear Sets In
Until I was 15, I had never heard of HD, a neurodegenerative disorder that is like Alzheimer's disease, Parkinson's disease, bipolar disorder, and Tourette's syndrome rolled into one. But my aunt Amy told me what it was and explained that all of Grandpa Rose's behavior — his temper, slurred speech (which we had wrongly thought indicated a drinking problem) and recent difficulty swallowing — had been symptoms. The disease would worsen, Amy said; near the end, he would be trapped inside a stiff body, unable to eat, talk, or move. The scariest part: HD is inher- ited. There was a 50/50 chance my father had it, and if he did, I faced the same odds.
Upon hearing the diagnosis, my grandpa, in total denial, jumped in his car, drove across the country and never came back. My family was actually relieved — his being so far away made it easier to avoid thinking about the situation. My dad didn't seem to take the news seriously. ""Just chain me up in the backyard with a drink, and I'll be fine!"" he joked about the possibility of developing HD, but inside, he must have been terrified. My grandpa was the meanest person I knew. Now there was a chance that my dad could turn into that kind of monster ... and that I could, too.
Then, around the time I turned 18, I was chatting with my dad in our kitchen when he suddenly started screaming in anger and squeezing my arm hard enough to leave bruises. We didn't talk about it, but I know we were worried about the same thing: He might be getting HD, too.
Learning My Fate
As soon as Grandpa Rose was diagnosed, when I was still in high school, I flung myself into researching HD. One of the first things I learned was that the same blood test that had found HD in him could tell me whether I would get it. When my dad began showing symptoms a few years later, he wasn't interested in the test for himself, but I decided to get tested as soon as possible.
The genetic counselor I found wasn't as supportive as I had hoped. ""If you have the genetic mutation for Huntington's, there's nothing we can do,"" she told me. ""There is no medical benefit [to knowing]."" I understood, but I also knew that without the test result, I would obsess over whether, when, and how I might get sick. Testing would put the biggest piece of the puzzle in place.
After the blood draw, the wait for the results felt endless. I kept asking myself the same questions: What would a positive result mean for me and my dad? Would I hurt those I loved like Grandpa Rose had? Would my husband, Josh, whom I'd wed at 19, leave me?
When the day finally arrived, the counselor didn't make us wait. As we walked into her office, she said it: ""You tested positive. You are going to get Huntington's disease.""
When I heard the news, I burst into tears — of sadness, but also of relief, because I wasn't wondering anymore. But as we began to talk, fear settled in. It's surreal to have someone tell you how you're going to die.
Adjusting to my new reality over the next few days, weeks, and months wasn't easy. I developed insomnia, had anxiety attacks, and got very depressed. Any time I got mad or acted clumsy, I would freak out and think, This is it. It was also difficult to deal with my parents: Though my dad's angry outbursts continued, neither of them had accepted that HD was the cause. Talking to my mom about it was like talking to the air.
Still, I was determined that my test results should help someone. I knew my grandpa Rose, then 73, was in a nursing home in Seattle, so I flew out to see him. At first glance, I couldn't tell if he was alive; he'd lost so much weight, and his body had become stiff. That night, I cried myself to sleep.
But the next day I forced myself to visit again, bringing family photos. Though he hadn't been out of bed in six months, I asked him, ""Do you want to get up and sit with me?"" It took a few minutes for him to get a word out, but when he did, he said yes, and so we sat and looked through the pictures. When it was time to leave, I said, ""I love you."" For the first time in my life, Grandpa Rose told me, ""I love you, too.""
Lauren reconnecting with her grandpa Rose before he died in 2007.COURTESY OF LAUREN HOLDER
When I got home, I sent my dad pictures of the trip, and days later he and his sisters flew to see their father. Grandpa Rose died just months later. I'm forever grateful that we all made peace and said goodbye.
Ready to Live
It's been 10 years since I got my results, and I'm still presymptomatic. My doctors think that will change when I'm in my mid-40s.
There have been times when I've tried to push Josh away, to protect him. But he always says, ""We're in this together."" Still, I know he wishes we could have kids as badly as I do. But I don't want to pass this gene to a child, nor would I want a child to have to take care of me at a young age.
But whenever I think Poor me, I remember my dad. Three years ago, he said, ""Lauren, I looked up Huntington's disease. I think I have it."" I realized that it had taken me facing my truth for my dad to accept his. Soon afterward, he joined me in volunteering with the Huntington's Disease Society of America.
At 57, my dad has little short-term memory; by noon, he can't tell you what he ate for breakfast. He walks slowly, has poor balance, suffers from mood swings, and has other health problems, like complications from diabetes, that disorient him. But there are good moments, too, when I know he's still Dad. If my mom gets flustered, he'll tease her by saying, ""Oh, no — you caught my Huntington's!"" And we laugh, because no one is living in denial anymore. We're all determined to get as much as we can out of life. We are living with Huntington's disease, but that doesn't mean we can't live.
Lauren at a football game with husband Josh in 2014.COURTESY OF LAUREN HOLDER
The 411 on Huntington's Disease
What Is It?
Huntington's disease is an incurable inherited brain disorder that results in the progressive loss of mental faculties and physical control. Signs usually appear between ages 30 and 50 and worsen slowly over the next 10 to 25 years.
Who's At Risk?
You can develop the disease only if one of your parents has the mutated HD gene and you inherit it. It's estimated that one in 10,000 Americans has HD, and more than 250,000 others are at risk of having inherited the gene.
Is There Hope?
Research has yet to find a means of slowing the deadly progression of HD, but last year scientists launched the first clinical trials to study the safety of a drug designed to silence the gene. For more information, visit hdsa.org.
[link href=""https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/health/a36011/genetic-testing-facts/"" target=""_blank"" link_updater_label=""external_hearst""]RELATED: Genetic Testing Can Tell You A LOT About Your Health
This story originally appeared in the January 2016 issue of Good Housekeeping.
Essay
Assignment Sheet
Would You Want to Know Your Future?
Please follow this assignment sheet carefully as you construct you first
formal essay for the course.
Paragraph 1:
Begin your paragraph with a HOOK or ATTENTION GETTER
that
leads the reader into the essay.
Use a question, quote, shocking fact, or small piece of narrative (story-
telling) to attract readers interest and make them want to read your essay.
(1-3 sentences)
Next, give a SUMMARY of the documentary “The Lion’s Mouth
Opens,” giving credit to the director, Lucy Walker.
In the first sentence of your summary, give the title of the documentary,
the director’s full name, and the main idea. After that, give the main
supporting ideas from the documentary in your own words. Leave out
minor or inessential details. Do not indicate your opinion in the
summary. Do not quote in the summary. (3-8 sentences)
End the paragraph with a THESIS that directly answers the prompt
question,
“If one of your parents had the disease, would you take the
genetic test for Huntington’s Disease?”
Paragraphs 2,3, and 4
: These are supporting paragraphs in which you
will back up your thesis with logic and evidence.
1: Each paragraph should begin with a topic sentence. The topic
sentence should give one reason for your thesis. Everything in the
paragraph should be about the idea in the topic sentence. If it is about a
different idea, it should go in another paragraph or another essay.
2: Use logic to explain your reasoning for the topic sentence. (2-4
sentences)
3: Use evidence to back up your topic sentence. This may be a
quote or paraphrase from the documentary or one of the articles on
Canvas. It may be an example from your own life or experiences. It
may be a hypothetical example. (1-3 sentences)
4: Interpret the evidence. Explain to readers what that evidence
shows and how it connects to your topic sentence. (1-3 sentences)
5: Conclusion/Transition Sentence. Finally, use one sentence to
wrap up this paragraph’s idea and lead readers on to the next paragraph.
(1 sentence)
Paragraph 5
: The conclusion paragraph.
1: First, restate your thesis and topic sentences in different words.
(3-5 sentences)
2: Finally, find some way to lead readers out of your essay, using
one of the hook techniques above or a call to action.
You
MUST
use at least two sources (including the documentary) in this
essay.
You
MUST
quote word for word at least twice in the essay. You
CAN
NOT
quote more than once in a paragraph, although you may
paraphrase as many times as you can make work in the paragraph.
Formatting: All essays must be typed and double-spaced using Times
New Roman 12 point font.
At the top left of the first page there should be a header containing the
following information:
5-page paper
Write a 5 page paper that discuss at-least 5 African American visual artists and their creative works. The significance of them in the time of history they lived. The African American Visual Arts Movements (artists, art, historical information . Give background information, characteristics and style. Analyze each work of art.
Do not forget to list at-least three sources used to assist in writing paper, MLA format guidelines. Place appropriate captions under each image.
Paste in url
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8kg8xzJNt8
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Comf9SetjRA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0zzZ9sPWjs
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NyqIihesoM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ya7q5InSQjw&list=PL7E22297D31B285DA&index=3
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmgoSYZr77k&list=PL7E22297D31B285DA&index=11
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAwRLwcI4ag&list=PL7E22297D31B285DA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6v3WZF4UVdE&list=PL7E22297D31B285DA&index=57
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3ozfYC9CZE&list=PLG82nSuE_Y8gBbuUMM2FAmWDRZ26Wj6QIhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wq7D9jPLvaU
Essay
It’s an essay for a literary analysis for the poem “because I could not stop for death” by Emily Dickinson. It would be in MLA format 5 paragraphs
Rewrite Horton Hears a Who
I will rewrite the story ""Horton Hears a Who"" from a different character's point of view
english
https://www.thisamericanlife.org/645/my-effing-first-amendment
NOTE: Before completing this discussion post, you must listen to the episode ""My Effing First Amendment Rights"" from the podcast This American Life. A link to this episode can be found in the ""Research Essay Resources"" folder.
In a detailed paragraph (a minimum of 150 words), give your reaction to this podcast episode. You do not need to summarize the episode. Instead, give your opinion about it.
Below are some questions that you might respond to in your post. (You do not need to respond to these. They are provided to get you thinking about it.):
What do you think about the events described?
Which ideas do you agree with, and why?
Which ideas do you disagree with, and why?
Who do you relate to, and why?
To what extent do you think the events were described objectively (in an unbiased way)?
What did you find shocking or surprising about the episode?
In what ways can you relate this episode to your personal experiences and/or observations?
In what ways can you relate this episode to concepts in Julie Beck's article and/or to the issue of tribalism?
End your post with an open-ended question about this podcast (or issues relating to it) for your classmates
Mythology Liturature paper ( Corn mom story) 10 pages
I need someone to do this paper for me for a decent price I give high ratings easy paper
Instruction: Keep in mind that you're looking at a creation narrative, which is also called a cosmogony. The paper should involve having your write some historical context for the narrative. Include relevant information that is related to how we need to use this background in order to understand the myth. You can summarize the narrative in your own words. The next task is for you to analyze and interpret it, using ideas from our class as well as your own research. You'll want to look at recurring patterns that are relevant to the myth. Think about kinds of cosmogonies as well as typical characteristics of gods and goddesses within these stories. Are there culture heroes? Mythic heroes? Think about relevant themes in the narratives, and look for how they relate to the story. You might also look at the cosmogony in relation to wider interests in the overall cosmology of the cultural group that you're studying. It may be useful to bring human beings into the story, if they're (well, ""we are"") included in this cosmogony.
Research proposal assignment
a research about anything related to translation example file down there
Discussion
Some say that the anonymous story “The Elephant in the Village of the Blind” is a comment on humanity, perspective, interpretation, and truth. Your perspective on the story depends on many factors, such as your positionality. Discuss your reaction to this story. What is it about? What is the theme? What should the learner take away from this after reading it?
"The Elephant in the Village of the Blind"" (Norton Anthology 14). You can google this if you don't have the book yet.
Activity Paper
assess your own intercultural communication competence with the following four questions.
To which cultures do you belong? To which co-cultures?
How much experience do you have interacting with individuals from other cultures or co-cultures?
How would you describe your motivation and attitude toward meeting people different from yourself?
Do you feel comfortable approaching strangers? Provide an example to illustrate your tolerance (or lack of tolerance) of ambiguity.
Do you consider yourself open-minded? Give an example of an instance in which you stereotyped. What were the results
FYI: I am an ARABIC culture
Theme Assignment eng 1102
What is an important theme in the short story ""Harrison Bergeron""?
Remember, a theme must be two things: a generalized statement and a complete thought.
Harrison Bergeron [1961]
The year was 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren’t only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.
Some things about living still weren’t quite right, though. April, for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron’s fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away.
It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn’t think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn’t think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains.
George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel’s cheeks, but she’d forgotten for the moment what they were about.
On the television screen, were ballerinas. 5
A buzzer sounded in George’s head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm.
“That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did,” said Hazel.
“Huh?” said George.
“That dance—it was nice,” said Hazel.
“Yup,” said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They weren’t really very good—no better than anybody else would have been, anyway. They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug in. George was toying with the vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn’t be handicapped. But he didn’t get very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts. 10
George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas.
Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself, she had to ask George what the latest sound had been.
“Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer,” said George.
“I’d think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds,” said Hazel, a little envious. “All the things they think up.”
“Um,” said George. 15
“Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?” said Hazel. Hazel, as a matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. “If I was Diana Moon Glampers,” said Hazel, “I’d have chimes on Sunday—just chimes. Kind of in honor of religion.”
“I could think, if it was just chimes,” said George.
“Well—maybe make ’em real loud,” said Hazel. “I think I’d make a good Handicapper General.”
“Good as anybody else,” said George.
“Who knows better’n I do what normal is?” said Hazel. 20
“Right,” said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that.
“Boy!” said Hazel, “that was a doozy, wasn’t it?”
It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling, and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, and were holding their temples.
“All of a sudden you look so tired,” said Hazel. “Why don’t you stretch out on the sofa, so’s you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch.” She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in a canvas bag, which was padlocked around George’s neck. “Go on and rest the bag for a little while,” she said. “I don’t care if you’re not equal to me for a while.”
George weighed the bag with his hands. “I don’t mind it,” he said. “I don’t notice it any more. It’s just a part of me.” 25
“You been so tired lately—kind of wore out,” said Hazel. “If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few.”
“Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out,” said George. “I don’t call that a bargain.”
“If you could just take a few out when you came home from work,” said Hazel. “I mean—you don’t compete with anybody around here. You just set around.”
“If I tried to get away with it,” said George, “then other people’d get away with it—and pretty soon we’d be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
“I’d hate it,” said Hazel. 30
“There you are,” said George. “The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?”
If Hazel hadn’t been able to come up with an answer to this question, George couldn’t have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.
“Reckon it’d fall apart,” said Hazel.
“What would?” said George blankly.
“Society,” said Hazel uncertainly. “Wasn’t that what you just said?” 35
“Who knows?” said George.
The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn’t clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about half a minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, “Ladies and gentlemen—”
He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read.
“That’s all right—” Hazel said of the announcer, “he tried. That’s the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard.”
“Ladies and gentlemen—” said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred-pound men. 40
And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice for a woman to use. Her voice was a warm, luminous, timeless melody. “Excuse me—” she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive.
“Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen,” she said in a grackle squawk, “has just escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped, and should be regarded as extremely dangerous.”
A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen upside down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall.
The rest of Harrison’s appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever borne heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H-G men could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses. The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him whanging headaches besides.
Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry, a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three hundred pounds. 45
And to offset his good looks, the H-G men required that he wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle-tooth random.
“If you see this boy,” said the ballerina, “do not—I repeat, do not—try to reason with him.”
There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges.
Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.
George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have—for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. “My God—” said George, “that must be Harrison!” 50
The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an automobile collision in his head.
When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.
Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him, expecting to die.
“I am the Emperor!” cried Harrison. “Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!” He stamped his foot and the studio shook.
“Even as I stand here—” he bellowed, “crippled, hobbled, sickened—I am a greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can become!” 55
Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds.
Harrison’s scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the floor.
Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and spectacles against the wall.
He flung away his rubber-ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor, the god of thunder.
“I shall now select my Empress!” he said, looking down on the cowering people. “Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!” 60
A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow.
Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, he removed her mask.
She was blindingly beautiful.
“Now—” said Harrison, taking her hand, “shall we show the people the meaning of the word dance? Music!” he commanded.
The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. “Play your best,” he told them, “and I’ll make you barons and dukes and earls.” 65
The music began. It was normal at first—cheap, silly, false. But Harrison snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.
The music began again and was much improved.
Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while—listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it.
They shifted their weights to their toes.
Harrison placed his big hands on the girl’s tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers. 70
And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!
Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the laws of motion as well.
They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun.
They leaped like deer on the moon.
The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. 75
It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling.
They kissed it.
And then, neutralizing gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long time.
It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.
Diana Moon Glampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on. 80
It was then that the Bergerons’ television tube burned out.
Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George. But George had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer.
George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. “You been crying?” he said to Hazel.
“Yup,” she said.
“What about?” he said. 85
“I forget,” she said. “Something real sad on television.”
“What was it?” he said.
“It’s all kind of mixed up in my mind,” said Hazel.
“Forget sad things,” said George.
“I always do,” said Hazel. 90
“That’s my girl,” said George. He winced. There was the sound of a riveting gun in his head.
“Gee—I could tell that one was a doozy,” said Hazel.
“You can say that again,” said George.
“Gee—” said Hazel, “I could tell that one was a doozy.
