My mother had breast cancer right before she turned 40; I found mine right after my 41st birthday. My mother's sister had breast cancer in her 60s, so did her two of her female cousins. We also suspect, but do not know, that both my mother's mother and her grandmother had breast cancer.

It seems obvious to me that this information might prompt even the most witless among us to note a genetic component to my breast cancer. However, the people at Kaiser felt compelled to send me down to Santa Teresa (South of San Jose) during the rush hour to take a "genetics class" as Step One in a gate-keeping process that counts on the "this is too much of a bother, I give up" attrition rate to limit the number of people who actually take the $3000 genetics test.

Since you know and I know that I have had breast cancer, why am I bothering to lock horns with the skinflints at Kaiser over this test?

There are two breast cancer genes known at this point: BRAC-1 and BRAC-2. Experts say that these genes only account for a small percentage of genetically passed cancer cases. They should know more in the future, that is if all the researchers don't quit their jobs to go work at Google.

So, odds are I will not test positive for BRAC-1 or BRAC-2. However, if I do, then I have greater odds of getting ovarian cancer. If I know that, then I can make some informed conditions about whether to keep my ovaries or post them under "free stuff" on Craig's List.

So, it may take a few more $3.49/gallon drives down to Santa Teresa to get that stupid test, but I am fully confident that I will be able to bully these people to take some of my blood and send it to the lab. If anyone out there feels sorry for the Kaiser hack on the other end of this process, you are welcome to give em a ring and share war stories about tangling with me when I am on a mission.

In other news, I have two more chemo infusions, and then I get a month or so until radiation starts, which will probably be in July. I will go to radiation five times a week for seven weeks. The radiation process will only take about a half hour, but it must be done daily. Kaiser farms out this task, so I will be going to Sequoia Hospital up on the Alameda de las Pulgas in Redwood City.

Apparently, everyone finds radiation to be a scary proposition. I feel entitled to just a bit more anxiety, as I can still picture the reddish burn scars on my mother, and the way she looked directly at me as she explained how they got there. While my mother didn't like talking about cancer and tried to keep it private, she never lied or minced words if we asked her questions.

Meanwhile, I am still plugging away on my indoors exercise program at the gym - I have upped my cardio routine to 45 minutes and am getting more walking and swimming in on the off days.

I think that's all the news that's fit to print for today. Have a great week y'all!