Is BAV hereditary? Can it be identified? Can it be avoided or treated?
Vexing questions aren't they.
Well I don't know enough about the previous generations, everyone seemed healthy but then it is quite possible to be BAV and not know till later in life. So its entirely possible that something else kills you first.
It would seem likely that it has a genetic basis, almost everything does really. So assuming that we knew it did , what would you do then?
I made the assumption decades ago that it was. That drove my desires to direct my career into Biochemistry and I was interested in genetic engineering. I would likely have liked to work in identification of the related genes. Things happened in life and I took other directions. But I look back and wonder.
Have you seen the movie GATTACA? Worth a look if you haven't. Presents another view of the issue which I had not thought of back then.
To me the fundamental question is : do we move ourselves towards perfection or do we allow nature to keep doing that? If we choose then what do we decide is perfection?
If a gene therapy was available to you to prevent stenosis or BAV in your kid would you use it? What about a therapy that did something else?
Myself I am who I am as a result of what I lived through. Had I been big and strong as are my cousins would I have become as studious and as thoughtful or would I have just been another bloke playing football and being cocky?
Equally vexing questions
Lastly as a biochemistry student with a personal drive I thought I was perhaps the only one so motivated. As a student of genetic engineering I could of course not have avoided learning about Watson and Crick (the ones credited with discovering DNA, which is quite a story in itself). So I was quite astounded to learn that Watson himself had a reason too.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2003/apr/06/highereducation.uk1
What he did not say at the time was that those couples included himself and his wife Liz. They had two sons, and the youngest, Rufus, had been born with what Watson calls 'undiagnosed serious mental illness that did not respond to medicine', a form of autism which he now believes to be 'epilepsy of the thalmus, which may be cured by an operation'.
I ask him what effect his son's problems had on his involvement in the possibilities of the genome? 'Oh, it was a big incentive for me,' he says. 'I mean the human genome project came right around that time. In 1986, my son was living briefly in an institution, and the day we had our first serious discussion about the project, I went into the meeting knowing that my son had gone missing, had run away. So you can't separate those things. I also knew that maybe some of the problems that afflicted children like my son could be solved on a genetic level. So when we embarked on the genome project, this massive undertaking, I had an idea that maybe sometime you would not have to have parents who lived with 30 years of terrible uncertainty while they tried to find out what was wrong with their child.'
I only learned of this years after I was out of biochemistry and living in Finland (working at the national library)