‘Genetic Testing Saved My Life’

Reported by Women's Health Magazine.

Jackie Hoffman spent three decades grinding through a career in acting—broke more often than not, optimistic against all odds—before everything finally clicked. A breakout role on Netflix's Nobody Wants This, a partner, two rescue dogs named Glen and Steven Spielberg. Then her dad found lumps, which her Jewish mother insisted on calling "nodules," and the bottom quietly dropped out.

Those nodules turned out to be metastatic carcinomas. Doctors couldn't locate the primary source until a hereditary cancer panel revealed he was BRCA1 positive — meaning he likely had male breast cancer. His oncologist's instruction was direct: tell your kids to get tested. According to Women's Health Magazine, Hoffman mentioned her father's diagnosis almost as an afterthought during a routine mammogram appointment — and watched the entire energy in the room change. A surgeon she'd never met materialized within minutes to explain that a parent's BRCA1 positive result means a 50% chance of inheriting the mutation, and that carrying it elevates the risk of both breast and ovarian cancers significantly. Hoffman agreed to test, convinced in her gut she'd come back negative. She did not.

When the Numbers Force a Decision

Her genetic counselor laid it out plainly: an 85% lifetime risk of breast cancer and a 65% risk of ovarian cancer. Before she'd fully processed the results, her doctor's office called to schedule surgery. She took that call in a parking lot, sitting on a cement divider, crying in a way she describes as "gag-weeping." In the months that followed — July through December — she assembled a medical team that included an oncologist, a gynecological oncologist, a breast surgeon, a plastic surgeon, and a genetic counselor, all while presenting at the Creative Arts Emmys and keeping her professional life intact. She describes that period as "full glamour and full terror, sometimes within the same hour." She chose a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction over a lifetime of surveillance, threw herself a "Boob Voyage" party (the banner, she notes, is $9.99 on Amazon — because enough women need one that the market exists), and went into surgery on December 1, 2024. Pathology results afterward confirmed pre-cancerous cells in the removed tissue. Her surgeon called her, practically screaming with relief.

Hoffman is now partnered with Myriad Genetics and directing people to learnmyrisk.com to understand their options. The case for genetic testing is especially strong if your family has a history of multiple cancers, a rare cancer like male breast cancer, a diagnosis before age 50, or Ashkenazi Jewish heritage — all of which applied to her situation and none of which she had connected into a full picture until a radiologist changed her day.

Knowing your genetic risk isn't about fear — it's about options, and options are everything.

Read the original at Women's Health Magazine.