Gene Therapy: The journey begins

I talked myself into getting one of those DNA test kits. This could be a laugh… apart from the spit.

So: I decided to try one of those DNA kits.

Ironically, perhaps, I did the test on Father’s Day, but there will be no “who’s the daddy?” nonsense, thank you.

I’d been toying with getting a kit on offer through Find My Past, but a bit of research on comparisons between the major testers showed that they were strong on Britain and Ireland but not so great on overseas. My family tree research shows that, while most of the ancients were Brits (and possibly Irish) there was also French in there, possibly Portuguese, and Lord alone knows what else.

The Lord, and the DNA testing lab of course.

So I went with 23andMe, which someone else in the office had tried. Thus it was I spent part of last Sunday trying to generate enough spit to be analysed. The FMP kit takes a cheek swab.

As I write, the kit has yet to be logged as received at the lab. It only went into the post on Monday and it has to get to The Netherlands. But there’s an app installed on my (new) iPad, ready for the results when they come through in a month or so.

The only problem with 23andMe is that, if you’re not careful, you end up taking their survey. It’s designed to glean as much information about you as possible to build up a profile they can use to match you with other people. And it goes on for ages. It took less time to generate enough spit for the test tube.

The funny / weird questions were all the health ones. They offer a health check which I didn’t take (not only because they charge more for it). It started to feel like Astrology; being a non-smoker in his fifties, born in March and with brown eyes doesn’t imply anything about my future health, really.

The daftest one was when they asked what my ethnicity was. If I knew that I wouldn’t have taken the test, would I?

Anyway: I’ll update you with the results when I get them…