I have a feeling the reason I won tickets to a lecture on DNA at the American Museum of Natural History and not, say, any one of the numerous other ticket offers I enter through the same email list, is because fewer people entered this one.
But no matter. I won. I got to hear a panel on genes. I was reminded of the question I hope I never need to seriously consider: if you could find out whether you would one day get a fatal disease, would you want to know?
Of course having a certain gene mutation, in most cases, isn’t proof that you’ll definitely have whatever the mutation is signaling, but that makes the results even more complicated to deal with. And come on. I can’t even get through a meal without agonizing over which menu choice to order, so you can imagine the agony being faced with such a significant decision would cause.
I’m perfectly content coming to crazy conclusions about future events and reacting to the overreactions my brain makes without adding DNA sequencing to the mix.