Musings of a Marfan Mom

A Tale of Two Teachers

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At my high school, career day was in 11th grade. I knew I wanted to do something in the health care field…I might have still been thinking of being a doctor at that point? In any case, my English teacher came to me and asked if I’d heard about genetic counseling. She told me she thought I would be good at it. Truth was even though I’d seen one as an 8 year old, I didn’t know much about what they did. One of us arranged for me to shadow a genetic counselor for career day at Nationwide Children’s, and I ended up spending some of the day with the genetic counselor who diagnosed me with Marfan syndrome (who as a child had left a very negative impression on me, a great how-to for being a poor pediatric practitioner).

By the end of career day, I knew this was the path I wanted to pursue. I chose my undergrad institution in large part because they offered a Masters in Genetic Counseling program. I had it all mapped out before starting college.

Then freshman chemistry happened. I passed, but by the skin of my teeth. My thoughts immediately went back to another teacher, this time my 12th grade physics teacher. He had pulled me aside after class one day to tell me I shouldn’t pursue the sciences (never mind that I’d always been an A science student, outside of physics), and when I said my intent was to study biology, he replied “well, that might be ok since it’s not a hard science.” He asked where I was intending to go to college. When I told him, he referenced another graduate from our high school who had left that university after their first semester and told me “you know what happened to (other student)…you’re just like him,” before suggesting I look at some less prestigious state schools instead.

So I looked at this C grade and thought, “I guess he was right, I’m not cut out for this.” I told myself I’d never make it as a genetic counselor. I switched majors. Eventually I ended up in psychology, and went on to earn a Masters in Public Health.

That’s shortly before this blog started. I had kids. They had complicated medical needs. We adopted more kids. They had complicated medical needs. Other than some freelance writing for awhile, I haven’t been back to work. I have a beautiful, very busy life and I still get to be involved with health care through my Marfan Facebook group and my volunteer work with The Marfan Foundation. I’m lucky!

A few things happened in this past year, however. The first was a conversation with a doctor I admire, who told me I should go back to school. The second was attending the NORD Living Rare Forum in June, which was a remarkable experience (and the next one is in CLEVELAND if you want to come). And the third was a conversation with THE coolest genetic counselor in the world. These all led to, at the end of July, me casually mentioning to Mark that I was thinking of maybe, possibly, someday going back to school for my Masters in Genetic Counseling.

For some reason he thought this was a good idea, said someday might as well start now, and within a couple weeks I’d figured out the pre-reqs that I still needed (there are 4), applied and was accepted to the local community college, and registered for my first class: biochemistry. If I was going to fail at this class, and therefore at becoming a genetic counselor, better to do it at the beginning of my planned coursework. I’ve been so scared to tell people that I’m back in school, because what if I really am not cut out for science and I fail and then I have to tell everyone that I failed?

Grades are out though, and I passed! Not only that, but I got an A! I will say that is in huge part to Mark, who helped teach me the material (my online class came with zero instruction). I really have the best husband!

The moral of this story is teachers, please choose your words carefully when advising your students. Don’t underestimate the impact you can have on a student, for better or for worse. Even if you never know the end result, I can tell you that they take your words to heart.

My plan is to take a class each semester for the next 3 semesters (except summer) and then apply to graduate school. If I’m lucky enough to get in on my first try, I’ll begin when Miss E goes to kindergarten. But, I also know that life doesn’t always go according to plan, and this plan may take longer than I think. So, we’ll see what happens, but this is me putting my intention of becoming a genetic counselor out to the universe!

The summer between 11th and 12th grade, with friends

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