A Light‑Hearted Look at My Family Health History (and Why I’m Not Doomed)
Let’s talk about genetics – that mysterious deck of cards we’re all dealt at birth. Some people get a royal flush. Some get a pair of threes and a dream. And some of us get… well… a mixed bag with a few jokers thrown in for flair.
In my case, both of my parents were medical professionals. You’d think that would mean I grew up in a house where people sprinted toward preventative care like it was a Black Friday sale.
Oh, sweet summer child. No.
Dad: The “If I Ignore It, It Can’t Kill Me” Approach
My dad was brilliant, compassionate, and absolutely allergic to going to the doctor. The man once knew he was having a heart attack and still waited to go to the hospital. He survived that one – probably because God looked down and said, “Sir, absolutely not. Get in the car.”
Then came the skin cancer.
He ignored it.
We begged him.
He ignored us.
We begged louder.
He ignored louder.
By the time he finally got it checked, it had metastasized. And that was that.
It turns out even people who know the most about medicine can be Olympic‑level avoiders when the spotlight turns on their own health.
Mom: The Gold Star Student of Preventative Care
My mom, on the other hand, was the poster child for Doing Everything Right.
Regular checkups? Check.
Balanced nutrition? Check.
Exercise? Check.
Vitamins? Probably alphabetized.
And it helped – for a long time. Then she had strokes, and her memory took a hit. It was a reminder that even the most proactive among us can’t control everything.
So What About Me?
Cue the existential midlife moment where I stare at my family tree like it’s a medical bingo card and wonder:
Am I genetically doomed, or can I actually do something about this?
Some people shrug and say, “When it’s my time, it’s my time.”
I respect that philosophy, but I’m more of a “God also allowed us to invent healthcare, so maybe let’s use it” kind of girl.
Here’s where I’ve landed:
- Genetics matter
- But they are not the boss of me
- Lifestyle matters
- Screenings matter
- Paying attention matters
- And pretending nothing is wrong is not my ministry
I can’t rewrite my DNA, but I can absolutely influence how loudly it speaks.
Why I’m Choosing the Proactive Path
I want to be here – really here – for my daughter.
I want to be the mom who’s still showing up, still laughing, still telling stories, still causing mild chaos in my fabulous 70s and 80s.
So, I’m choosing to be proactive.
Not paranoid.
Not obsessive.
Just intentional.
Because I’ve seen what happens when you ignore the warning signs.
And I’ve seen what happens when you fight like hell to stay healthy.
And I’m choosing the middle lane – the one with balance, awareness, and a little sass.
It’s not just about me wanting to stick around for the long haul – I want my loved ones right here beside me, laughing, adventuring, and causing trouble well into our golden years. So yes, I absolutely encourage the people I care about to be proactive about their health too. Not in a bossy, “Did you schedule your colonoscopy?” way (okay… maybe sometimes). More in a “Hey, I love you, and I want you around for a very long time, so let’s not play chicken with our arteries” kind of way.
Because life is better when the people you adore are healthy enough to enjoy it with you. And if I can nudge them toward a checkup or two along the way, consider me a very enthusiastic nudger.
Final Thought
I’m not doomed.
I’m not powerless.
And I’m not repeating anyone’s story.
I’m writing my own – one checkup, one walk, one good meal, one laugh, and one brave choice at a time.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
Do you go to regular medical checkups or are you scared of any kind of doctor? What’s your family health history like and what’s your approach?
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