23andMe Part II

I've spent more time digging into the information provided by 23andMe from my DNA analysis.  In the time since I've gotten the initial report, some of these have been updated demonstrating 23andMe's commitment to providing information which is as relevant as it can be.  I'm not sure if I'm surprised or not that most of these updates have changed to being more correct versus my perception.
Among the things 23andMe is suggesting is:
I can smell asparagus pee:  True.
Likely detatched ear lobes:  Well - I'm sort of in between.
Eye color likely blue or green:  Yep (and recently corrected report)
Early hair loss:  I guess, but compared to many of my relatives, I'm on the low end of this.
Unibrow unlikely:  True, but ugly close...
Predisposed to be more corpulent:  Yeah!  It isn't my fault!
Likely lactose intolerant:  Ya know - I might be to a degree?  It would explain some things I won't go into here.
Likely to be a similar weight based on calories consumed regardless of saturated fat intake:  Yeah for ice cream (see above) and bacon!

It should be noted that many of these things are more directional than strong predictions by 23andMe.  As an example, I'm likely to have light hair, but of 23andMe participants like me, over 35% have dark brown or black hair.  Some of the traits are predicted by only a few percentage points.

But by far the most interesting thing I've found is 23andMe's "DNA Relatives."  After agreeing to share limited information, 23andMe comes up with a list of people who share enough DNA to be considered relatives - it found nearly 1200 matches just within people who have been tested by 23andMe.  At first glance, this seems like a lot, but back of the envelope calculations suggest otherwise.  Assuming 5 births per couple/generation:
50 first cousins
300 second cousins
1500 third cousins
7800 fourth cousins
40,000 fifth cousins
200,000 sixth cousins
etc. (Note, this is a slightly-simplified, inclusive model)
While 5 births may be high based on present day birth rates, I come from some obnoxiously large families and these numbers will be skewed higher by larger families further back in time - so these estimates are likely low.  With a few known families that are into the double digits for children, the numbers may be very low.
Browsing through the list of DNA Relatives has been fascinating - I keep seeing a few key surnames and even a few that are consistent with the little I know about my family tree.  Perhaps more telling, looking through the locations some people have shared reveals a who's where for what I know about past family.
23andMe allows the option to contact these people which I haven't done.  At this point, pawing through the list of people is interesting, but it feels a little creepy at the same time.  I would love to find out if the actual relations could be teased out for some of the closer matches, but I'm really not sure what I would do with that information, or even what I'd do if someone contacted me for that.
But I definitely want to do some more browsing here to see if I can find matches between surnames and location that clearly look non-coincidental.

After going through much of the data provided by 23andMe I sent my siblings an email telling them about my boring genetic make-up.  I was kind of hoping one of them might be interested in this as well (or had already been tested out of curiosity like me), but there were no bites.  I can't blame them - it took me a long time to do this.

But it did start a conversation on what is known about our ancestry.  Apparently a fairly comprehensive family tree was created at one time for my mom's side.  And I found out that there was a book written about some the history of my dad's family.

Whhhhaaaaat?

How come I didn't know about this book?  Actually, I may have at one point, but it slipped through the memory cracks.
Proving that absolutely everything is available on Amazon, a quick search showed this book was available used through a seller with good ratings - a signed copy no less.  Add to Cart!

The book is written by my great uncle about my great grandfather and great grandmother's immigration to the United States through their deaths.  It isn't a page-turning thriller, but it is far more interesting than I expected.  Some of it is hard to follow since many of the European names are similar and with very large families, there are a lot of them.  But the book details the immigration, life's challenges and victories, belief structures and daily life of the immigrant family.
In a way, the book is a document of European post-industrial immigration.  The struggle between maintaining old world language, customs and religion in the melting pot experiment that was, and is, North America.  It is the story of coming to America with almost nothing, and building a far more successful life than would have been likely in Western Europe.
My great grandfather was essentially an orphan with little prospects - his marriage to a woman from a prominent family was a bit of a scandal - their combined future would have been that of his - a common laborer likely to live a life of poverty.  Moving to North America was a risk that resulted in a difficult life that, combined with hard work, resulted in a life far more successful that would have been possible for either of them.
If I add what I know about the immigration of my mom's side of the family shortly after WWII, I realize how close in time I really am to Europe, even though I'm about as "American" as it gets.  I would love to find a way to do a similar documentation of that story, but it would be all-encompassing for a year or more to do it right.

Some of the pictures in my Great Uncle's book are also fascinating.  Seeing my grandfather as a young child and young man.  Seeing where my dad's family lived.  Seeing pictures of early family reunions (138 people, which was not inclusive of everyone).
Before he died, my dad had given me a painting, done by a cousin, of my dad's grandfather's barn.  It was painted on wood that was taken from that barn during a repair (or possibly when it was torn down).  That barn features in the book, and a picture shows how close the painting is.  That painting which has hung in the garage for a few years, feels a little more like a relic now; at the time I got it, I didn't realize the significance.
Several times I had to pause while reading the book and think that these aren't anonymous people I'm reading about in a history book, but people I'm related to.  More than that, just a minor tweak to events could have resulted in me being very different from what I am - or even me not existing at all.  I am statistically very unlikely.

I'm really not sure where I go from here.  Part of me would love to run with the information I have and see what else can fall out of the family tree.  But a more rational part of me knows that ancestral research can be an all-consuming obsession - taking time, money and energy resources that I'm not sure I want to (or can) devote to that.
What I can say for sure, is that decision to spit in a tube and send it to 23andMe pointed to toward an extremely fascinating fractal.

Veterinarian Heal Thyself

It isn't the money.  It isn't the dog's age.  It isn't that I believe her age has been underestimated.  It isn't the time commitment.  It isn't the dog's overall health.  It isn't longevity versus quality of life.  It isn't the effects that the treatment might have on her.  It isn't her inability to tell me what she wants.  It isn't that she is an absolutely awesome dog.  It is everything.
After loosing my oldest dog a few months ago, my now-oldest has been diagnosed with cancer.  This is pretty devastating as I was anticipating her living as long as the last two did.  Even without cancer, that would be unlikely.

The veterinarian noticed a small growth during an annual check up.  The vet didn't seem too concerned, but suggested it be removed and tested just to be sure.  "Within the next few weeks."  Once I knew where it was, it bothered me and removal came sooner rather than later.
It was probably a good thing it was removed as the histology report stated it was a rather aggressive form of cancer.  I was shocked by this; I had anticipated it would be just another benign growth - all my dogs have had these to at least some extent.

My vet referred me to a veterinarian oncologist.  I made an appointment and took her to see the cancer doctor.  The oncologist laid out some of the options, and none of them sounded very good to me.  The best option would likely give her several additional months to live, with a high degree of variability.  It would not cure her, but it would not be impossible for her life to be extended by years.  Maybe.  But maybe it would do nothing.  Digging into this option told a very incomplete story.  There are few good controlled studies, and the studies that have been done have shown a lot of variability with some conflicting results.  While several months is a huge advancement to the medical profession in the face of a terminal diagnosis, it is small comfort in the big picture.  Quite frankly, this best option sounded like only a few steps removed from an uncontrolled medical experiment.  I guess that is why it is called a medical practice and not a medical certainty.  I wish I could say that cost was not a factor, but it was.
Questioning financial motivation of a pet's owner is easy.  Questioning the morality of spending tens of thousands of dollars on an aging pet when there are people without health care is easy too. Does anyone question the financial motives of the veterinarian and the clinic?  That nice new building is being paid for by someone though.  The vet is only there to help - right?
I was there with my dog to see the oncologist, but was feeling judged at some point through the conversation.

Surgery - what was already done and may be needed again is a treatment.  Our usual veterinarian was able to completely remove the tumor with some margins.  Success does not necessarily mean cure.
More judgement was seeping into the small examination room.

Radiation was not a good option on this type of cancer and would likely come with a significant reduction in the quality of life.
Chemotherapy, while well tolerated by most dogs has not historically been very effective on this type of cancer either.  "So would chemo be that much better than not treating at all?" after much discussion about that as an option.
"Not in my opinion," the Oncologist replied.
More judgement.

A veterinarian's job is to heal the patient.  A veterinarian's job is not to do nothing.  I've yet to meet a vet who I didn't believe was compassionate.  While personable and friendly, the oncologist was compassionate in the same perfunctory way that a vending machine is - there are all these options, all will be bad for me.
Maybe I'm judging the oncologist as well.

My dog was resting on the floor staring at the wall.  She didn't want cancer.  She didn't want aggressive or expensive treatments.  She wanted to be back in her familiar back yard.  She really just wanted to be at home on the sofa.

"We could start treatment today," the oncologist said.
But it was too much to think about right then.  There was too much information and not enough at the same time.  These decisions are never, ever easy; there is no help in making them.  I needed time to think.
The judgement was hanging thick in the silent room.

I looked away from the oncologist.  The freshly painted walls were done poorly; the judgement made it hard to see the small paint drips on the floor.

The only thing I could be sure of was that my dog was not judging either one of us.

"The cold compassion of bartenders, he came to see, was like that of priests:  universal rather than personal, with charity for all and malice toward almost none.  Firmly situated … between sacrament and communicant, they commanded rather than earned love, trust, dependence." - John Crowley