First things first. "What is a genome?" you ask politely. A genome is the entire genetic material of an organism. Whether yeast, bacteria, animal or plant, there is a basic biochemical structure that programs the function of a living thing. Watson and Crick discovered its helical structure in 1953 and of course we mean DNA.
DNA is like a twisted ladder whose rungs are split between two different chemicals that complement each other called "base pairs". What's amazing about this complementary, super coiled, super cool DNA is that almost every cell in our body contains 2 copies, one from Mom and one from Dad! The exception being the egg and sperm.
Now, think about how many rungs or base pairs there are...100,000? No. 1 million? No. Try 3 BILLION base pairs. The most astonishing thing is that stretched out, a human genome would be about 6 feet long! Does this blow your mind? No? Well consider that we are composed of about a trillion cells and the tiny DNA machinery fits in all trillion cells. Mind blowing, I know.
OK. So, Clark decides to join the Personal Genome Project (PGP) and is accepted after a long review of its implications. I talk to my sons and daughter about the potential to learn something unexpected, perhaps life-altering. Researchers will have full access to my genome and the data it contains. Insurers could conceivably discriminate against me. I could be related to Robert Burns. This is serious stuff!
Sadly, isolated here in Portland, Oregon, I am unable to travel at short notice for blood letting, er, blood samples in San Diego or Boston, which means I wait. And wait. But after a year, a new option opens up. Veritas provides PGP members an option to pay $999 to have their genome sequenced. Sequencing just means that they use specialized, high-tech equipment to determine what all my genome base pairs are for my genes!
I'm a sucker for DNA sequencing, as I'm sure my genes will attest, so I sign up with Veritas and a specimen kit arrives. I think to myself, "Clark, you are loco and you will be disowned by your family." Fortunately, I ignore the angels of my better nature and proceed to spit in the special vial partially filled with some reagent (possibly tequila) and mail it back to Veritas.
What have I done?!?!
