Of All These Things, to This One Be True: Be Responisve to Change

 It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.

Charles Darwin (1809 - 1882)

I’m an atheist.  I don’t believe there is any great cosmic reason for being here.  Life is all about living, procreating and dieing.  What is love but the ultimate drive to survie in the hearts and minds of the generations you leave behind?

What do you do when Darwin’s prime directive leaves you staring at yourself in the funhouse mirror?  Let me make myself perfectly clear, I am a firm believer in the pricipal of survival of the fittest.  It makes perfect sense.  I think  that the weak and unviable should die out.

In fact, I’ve even gone so far as to declare that those who know that they have genetic weaknesses should take themselves out of the genetic pool.  I can make that kind of declaration because I am such a person.  Unfortuantely, I didn’t know that until I had already reproduced but I have advised my children that given the genetic cesspool that we sprig from, it would be better if they did not produce anymore than the one grandson I already have.

I  didn’t come to that conclusion easily or logically, frankly.   I want a whole herd of grandchildren.  I would love nothing more than to see a reproduction of my duaghter’s funny little face gazing up at me in rapt adoration.   She has been such a wonderful mother to my grandson that I would love to watch her with the little girl she is longing for.  Not that there are any guarantees she would get a little girl but heck, we  another  little boy would be grand too.  Don’t even get me started on how much I would enjoy seeing what kind of babies my son would make.

I can think of all kinds of reasons why they should have children. Physical beauty–my gawd my gr-son is a handsome child if I do say so myself.  If my daughter had a daughter and she looked anything like her mother combined with her father’s genetic good looks–ooo lala!  My son was a beautiful child himself and I’m sure he would have equally beautiful children.

Then there are the brains. May I just say that there are some heavy duty brains in my family tree and leave it at that? Musical talents. Artistic abilities.  Any potential grandchild of mine would be in the running for inheriting  the potential for a great many gifts.  Plus parents who are motivated to cultivating those gifts.  They would be cherished and loved and nutured as much as any middle class child in these United States of America can be expected to be.

But these auto immune disorders can not be ignored. They can’t. It is not fair to saddle a child with them. Had my family talked about them when I was growing up, I might not have had my children. I’m hoping the new strides they are making in genetic research will make a difference in my childrens’ lives but we can’t count on that.

Survival of the fittest. If my husband and I had spawned a bunch of kids (unlikely since I had probelms carrying a pregnancy to term) but say I hadn’t given up after two children and had had five or six which I would have liked to have had. Maybe three of them would have inherited this disorder. The others would have been OK. They’d go on and produce kids that are OK. But the two or three that have the disorder have a 50/50 chance of passing it on.

I think my son has it. I’m pretty sure he does although he won’t go get tested. He’s gone to Egypt about the whole thing. De Nile is so very wide and long.  He won’t talk about it when I tell him that his chronic fatigue is worrisome or that the fact that he is losing weight should not be dismissed or that the fact that he is cold all the time is all to familiar.  He doesn’t want to know.

Well, what is there to know?  If I can’t get a “real” diagnosis then he won’t get one either.  All he will know is that he has elevated anti-nuclear antibodies which mean that he has an auto immune disorder like the rest of the family who have mysterious maladies.  He’ll know he has Bi-Polar mood disorder.  He’ll know that he’s his mother’s and  father’s son whose families both have auto immune disorders.  Maybe he’ll curse us both for having come together and procreated him.  Maybe he will be grateful for life because life is good no matter how painful.
B