I took a genetic test last year. It said my overall health score is in the 74th percentile. I was like, That sounds about right. Well, I looked at my score again today and saw that it can be broken out into DNA and lifestyle. My lifestyle score is in the 99th percentile. My genes? Only the 49th percentile. Half of the genes they look at promote health. The other half strongly promote illness, disease, and disorder. And I do have a number of health issues, rare diseases, syndromes, and one big, fat disorder. So it’s not off.

So far, the company has identified 149 potential risks based on my DNA. I recognize a bunch of them because they aren’t just risks. They’re acute and chronic issues I have, like heart arrhythmia, thyroid inflammation, dyslexia, and mania. It even picked up on my sugar cravings, tendency to worry, droopy eyelids, rosacea, TMJ, and obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

And that 149? It’s not even factoring in things like postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, common variable immunodeficiency, and follicular thyroid cancer, all of which I’ve had or currently have.

I can add labs to my report to bring my overall score up. (Aside from my TSH lately, my labs are awesome, mostly because they miss a lot of things.) But I can’t get over that DNA percentile. How am I a viable organism? How am I here? Am I dreaming this life? Are a groin hernia and leaky gut really in my future? Do I have a future?

In the words of my fellow Gen X elders: What gives?