Halfway celebrations and a setback...

You have read correctly, I am halfway finished with chemo. The "AC series" (what is AC), is over and done with and I couldn't be happier to see something end. From most accounts AC was the more difficult of my chemotherapy treatments, and some say that I am on the easy side of treatment now. So I will throw out a giant "WaaaaaaHOOOOOO!" for that.

Up next is the Taxol chemotherapy and at the same time I start with the drug Herceptin. What does that mean???? It means that I have 4 more chemo treatments, they still happen every other week on Thursdays. The Herceptin chaser will happen every week to start, then every 3 weeks for a full 52 weeks.  (I can hear your jealousy from here.....) Unfortunately, today my white blood cell count was too low (1.7 when normal is between 4.5-10.5, and that range depends on your doctor/age/illness/whatever fabulous thing they have in store for you). I was not able to start this new series, and now everything is pushed back by 7 days. (bonus crap end of the deal, two more of the shots that improve white blood cell counts, but make me feel like I have the flu. Hopefully, two shots won't make me miserable.)

If I had to describe the feeling I have been carrying all day in one word, ANGER. I'm angry that I have more waiting. I'm angry that I don't feel like I'm sick (all being compared to my new normal of course). I'm really angry that I took an assload of steroids today to prep for the treatment and now I have to do all the detox for those without any "benefits"(do you have any idea how much they make me want to eat!?!?!?!). I'm angry that I haven't been very good at maintaining my composure and have probably taken it out waaaay to much on my kids. I'm angry that I have cancer.

BUT tomorrow is a new day. When it comes I am going to let go of my anger (ok not all of it will go just yet, but the little stuff, I can let some of those go for sure). I have 7 more days to celebrate being halfway done, just wait to you read about what I have done so far! My first act of not angry, I'm just gonna be bald for a bit. (unless I'm cold, which happens a lot especially now that places have turned on the air conditioners) Second, I'm going to the Detroit Race for the Cure and going to attempt to run a little of it (even if it is only 100 yards).

Halfway celebrations:
1A.  Another mammogram was done this week to gauge how big the tumor really is now. It was an interesting experience.... OUCH is the first word I have for you. This stupid tumor is so close to my rib cage that it is really hard to get it under the x-ray machine. I can only tell you that I nearly passed out. As in asked for a chair and water because I saw stars. Not being experienced in passing out I can only tell you that for me the "almost" experience was like the feeling you get when you stand up too fast and see stars. Only that they didn't go away right away and I hadn't moved. So I sat, drank my water, and got through all of my pictures. Then I asked for a glass of juice and crackers. While I was waiting for the radiologist to read the pictures, I had an opportunity to talk again with Nurse Nancy the Navigator. :) We were talking and I showed her my boobie binder that I take to all of my doctor's appointments. She was really impressed, but i think that her favorite part was the envelope that I keep all the cards and notes that I have gotten. I showed her some of my favorites, and she saw my coloring book pages from Elizabeth on the cover. Then she gave me more things to read (because she knew that I would read them, her words "lifelong learner")

So the tally of gropers was able to grow by one (total is now 15) and my tumor has shrunk from 3.7cm to 1.6cm. Halfway done and less than half the original size!!!!!

1B. Grosse Pointe North v Grosse Pointe South girls Varsity Soccer game to benefit breast cancer awareness. Almost immediately after I told my classes about the cancer I had a senior girl, Nadia, ask me if she could wear my name on her jersey in this game. (I think it was her asking that made me positive that being open was the best route on this journey, everyone needs to feel like they are helping in their little way. I really like being able to see the little things that remind me of how many people care.)

So proud of this girl!!!!! She has a heart of gold!!!!!!

2. Dinner out with good friends and good laughs. If you haven't had dinner with the love of your life and a best friend from the old days and her handsome hubby in a long time, I highly suggest that you make the time to do it. And pick a restaurant where you can watch the people go by on one side of you table and the cars go by on the other. We chose Palio in Ann Arbor, and got lucky that it was prom night for some school. The laughs started in the parking garage, Sean's first comment, "Elizabeth will never wear a dress like that." I almost peed myself (for the first time). It was a long purple dress, had (spaghetti--for the girls) straps, her make-up was reasonable, hair was a normal looking up-do, but the top of the empire waist had 1 inch holes at the top (maybe three rows worth).... Having been to both homecoming and prom recently, I was rolling and pissed that I couldn't get my camera out fast enough. He forgets my stories of sewing young girls dresses back together in the bathrooms and the number of pictures that I have avoided.

There are a few other sights I have to share. My favorite couple The Dragons. The girl was wearing a pretty white dress with a hand painted dragon on it. It really was gorgeous. Her date, Sean inserts the correction of her tool, had on a white tux jacket with a similar hand painted dragon. OK, I have to admit that in 10 years that will be an awesome picture. (Speaking as one whose mother still has prom pictures hanging in the house.) However, I have to agree that it is an interesting choice. Again, Sean brought up Elizabeth, something along the lines of I hope she never brings THAT home. Again, I laughed (with Corie's support), he has no idea what his daughter is going to be capable of. She is not my mini-me from when I was little..... I haven't met too many grown men who have said no to her requests followed by the batting of those killer brown eyes. Can't wait to see how this plays out. (*insert best wicked witch of the west cackle here* try it out loud, it feels good)

OK, one more, it was really good people watching. AND I think this next one might be a regular sight, so you could catch it. AND it makes me miss being in school when the weather changes, I have no problem telling my students that they are dressed like hussies. Three girls walk by in their little black dresses. I use the word walk loosely as it was more like a cross between a shuffle and a stumble because not one of them could walk in their heels. Unfortunately, walking was the least of their problems. Their dresses were probably all a size too small. You could, well we watched and laughed (and we were sober) and I may even have been guilty of pointing, see the heads of the restaurant patrons turning to stare. I know my bleeding heart friends are soooooo mad at me right now, but I tell you in the words of a wise woman, "someone else has to sit in that chair next." And I think there is special place reserved for me next to my hubby when we are no longer on this Earth, because who was seated right next to us, yup they were.... I wish I could tell you that the story could stop there, but it was entertaining to see what happened next. The girls not only couldn't dress, or walk in their shoes, but they also don't know basic etiquette. (I will excuse the phones out and all texting or whatever, I'm old. I still think if the average entree costs more than $20, and you have to order a salad separately its weird.) I CANNOT excuse the fact that not one of them crossed their legs at the table,not even the girl whose seat faced the street, Main street. If the cars weren't filled with old men and middle aged couples I swear our meal would have been ruined by the honks. My bleeding heart wanted to go over buy a round and tell them all that they were gorgeous and didn't need to show it ALL to prove it. (and I say all because we decided to skip the comedy show and have dessert, and when the girls left Sean and Marcelo got to see it ALL, think Brittany Spears.) So hopefully they will apply the standard mom test of can you touch your toes without a full moon, sit in a chair without sliming it, and walk safely next time.

3. Watched the Juggalos (Sean's hockey team sponsored by Albert's on the Alley in Garden City) play a great game Sunday to make it to the championship round for their Spring season. In regular Nicole fashion, I was busy talking to the other wives and missed Sean's one handed goal. I wish I could tell you first hand it was amazing, or that I had some piece of juicy gossip I could spill, but I can't. I can tell you that the glimmer of pride in his dad's eye means the world to me. I'm glad he didn't miss it. I love going to his games, reminds me of when we were dating. I love that now there are afternoon games and we can bring our kids out afterwards and they make friends as quickly and easily as we do!!!


So that brings us back to my big let down postponement. I have to say thank you to my GPN family for this week's care package. It was filled with all sorts of goodies, but there is one piece that has made my day and my mind think. It has inspired my change of heart about making sure that I keep my head covered in public to avoid the stares and the questions and well meaning people sharing their stories and kids with their innocent questions/comments. If I'm not cold, or feeling like Purple Betty needs a day/night out, then chances are I'm not going to be covered up the next time you see me. Thank you for all the love and support!!!! Lisa, I have a feeling we are going to need more of these...

So now I will work on another week of halfway celebrations.... If you are running/walking the Detroit Race for the Cure think of me and watch for me in my first pink shirt. I think I have done the RFC in some city or another for 11+ years always running/walking with the thought that curing one cancer will lead to more cures. I never thought I would be so grateful for the ladies in pink that have gone to battle before me. So while I still harbor a bit of my F&*K pink because the purple of Alzheimer's is in need of attention now, as I am celebrating my way through breast cancer survivorship I'm going to relent. I am going to be grateful for the support of all the amazing women in the most undesirable and most loving sorority ever.

Telling the kids

When to tell them, how much to tell them..... and what will help them to understand breast cancer and not be afraid. The when turned out to be easy. Elizabeth had to come to school with me on the same day that I was planning to tell my students. Since I had both Jake and Elizabeth that morning, I told them in the car. I don't remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of I have a special kind of sick inside me that is going to take a lot of medicine to heal. Elizabeth asked some questions and wanted to know if I was going to cry all the time. She assured me that she would rub my back and tell everything is is ok just like I do when she cries. (Coincidentally, I have been more attentive to making sure that when I lose control and have to cry it out I try to make sure that she is not nearby.) Since then we have talked about all the changes that my body will undergo, her favorite thing to ask when I say I have a doctor's appointment is, "Are you going to get bald?" Soon, but not today.....

The other day Elizabeth hopped in to the shower with me, she was asking questions and wanted to know more. I asked if she wanted to feel the lump so she knew it was there and then she tell when it was shrinking after the medicine started working. She did, so I let her feel the lump (making her grope #12) and she asked if it hurt. Its tender, but it doesn't hurt if you are gentle.

Jake is just a little too young to really have much of a reaction. But he is a great echo and follows his big sister's lead very well.

Adventures in Testing

So, I have learned my first lesson in this cancer battle the hard way: DO NOT FORGET TO RESEARCH the test you are about to have no matter how ordinary it may seem. My thoughts Wednesday night, "MRI is normal everyday stuff. All sorts of people get MRI's." Stupid move. What the heck was I thinking? I will never walk into a test without knowing what they are going to do to me again. I didn't drink enough water so the IV was difficult to start in my tiny veins. In my attempt to distract myself from the needle being twisted and poked around in my arm full of deflated veins, I discovered a new pet peeve. They didn't take the pictures off the walls when they painted the room. Seriously? There were 2 pictures total in the room, and it wasn't like they were hard to move (I checked). I wonder if the hospital equivalent of the principal knows and if they were pissed such a corner was cut... but enough about my ponderings...

The MRI was of both breasts which meant that I had to lay on the table face down. Actually, I laughed out loud when the nurse told me to get on my knees and aim for the holes. Then she walked around adjusting the girls so that they were dangling properly (for those who are counting, that makes person #10 to get a good grope). I must have started to panic because I remember asking her if the top was open after the table was slid into the machine. She said I could open my eyes and look. I did; it was a bad idea. I closed them back up and put my face back on the face rest, then the world started to spin. I have no idea if this normal, but it was like going to bed after a long night of college-aged drinking. (The kind where you just want the world to stop spinning and your friends suggest that you sleep with a foot on the floor.) Then the noises started. The loud ones, like a jack hammer, that have no discernible pattern or rhythm that scare you so bad that you even forget the words to the Lord's Prayer (I had to think about the proper title as "Our Father" was about all I could make my brain say for the first few minutes). And then you worry about how/why you could ever forget that piece of comfort..... Gratefully, my "Hail Mary" skills kicked in and after what felt like a hundred recitations I was actually able to listen to the music that was pumped into the headphones.

When it was over, I was motion sick (or perhaps the proper term is really motion nauseous since I didn't puke). I felt like such a weakling/dork for having to sit in a chair and wait for it to pass. I even asked for a juice. When they had it right there in the cabinet I felt a little better, but not really. I was expecting some sort of feedback right then, but none came. "Your doctor can access the results anytime. The second door on the left is the locker room. Good luck to you." Where was my brain then? I should have had a question, something so that I knew what they saw.... That will be this weekend's research project.

Friday was my meeting with the oncologist, Dr. Oscar Signori. He was recommended by the surgeon, but she said that there were a few that she has worked with.... I also had an appointment  with my family doctor, Dr. Wright, beforehand. My real reason for meeting with Dr. Wright was for my bi-monthly check on my meds, but I also wanted his opinion on oncologist. I did all the normal height, weight, why are you here stuff with the nurse and she says doc will be right in. The next person to walk in is not Dr. Wright but a new medical student. I have to admit, that I pull student doctors all the time and I am normally patient and allow them to practice and the doctor to do the finishing touches. But I usually go in for a med check or a cold or stupid little things, this is just a bit different. So I started answering the what are we seeing you for today question pretty openly. "I am really here to get my adderol refilled, but I was diagnosed with breast cancer on Monday and I want Dr.Wright's opinion before my 11:00 appointment with the oncologist. I'm all for being a guinea pig, I'm a teacher and I know it is important to learn, but this time I really do want to talk to Dr. Wright."

I wish I could get the right words to describe how big the student's eyes got. I'm going to let my imagination run for a moment, but it was almost a look of hey good looking whatchya doing after the show turning into a look of utter horror. His eye were almost unsettling on someone in the medical profession. As a teacher, it was hilarious. At first he was offended that I would think he was just using me as a guinea pig, but when I continued it was a look of, "oh crap she's right, I'm not quite ready for this level of questions. I have none of the answers she is looking for." Then the over achiever in him took over and he just wanted to check it out. Unfortunately for those who are hoping to put a number behind his story he only got to feel my armpits, where apparently a node feels enlarged.  After a series of blood tests, a chest x-ray, and finally my script being refilled I was out of there.

(I totally have to add that I was semi-surprised with a message from Sean that he, Jake and my dad were having breakfast at IHOP and I should join them. Upon arrival I discovered exactly how many Friday mornings they have gone to IHOP; the waitress knew that my son like his chocolate milk with a side of whipped cream and doted on him like the regular that he apparently is. Sean and I left from IHOP for my oncology appointment and Papa Joe and Jake were off an adventure back to the new house.)

(OH----I neglected to add in that when I told Dr. Wright about the oncology appointment and the doctor I was going to see, he was less than enthusiastic. He expressed confidence in Dr. Signori, but also stated that he would prefer me at U of M. Which, I think, may be why the end of my Friday was full of uncertainty.)

My mom drove up from Toledo to be at the oncology appointment, and arrived frazzled from the drive (don't ya hate when the directions take you out of the way or you shouldn't have used the directions because you really did know how to get most of the way there without them) and stressed out to the max. So into the office the trio of trepidation walks ready for someone to pull out the magic wand and wave this nightmare away. (Ok, so we know it can't happen, but secretly I know we were all hoping for someone to jump out with the candid camera and tell us it was a huge joke.)

The appointment with Dr. Signori was ... slow. Thorough would be another good word. His nursing staff was kind and funny. When she brought me a water to take some medicine, she also brought Mom and Sean each their own, "I brought one for you too because I would get jealous if I were in your shoes." When the doc came in I hadn't finished my questionnaire, so he went through the questions with me slowly, asking follow up questions that were often not on the papers. He wrote my answers down with notes next to them. When he finished the questions, he began the physical exam. Somewhere in this process I had made the mistake of telling my mom I was cold. So while I proclaimed that I was fine (and really I was, I'm always cold, it was probably warmer than my classroom), the doctor took out two paper blankets and covered me up and began his exam (#11 to check the lady lumps). It felt like the longest exam yet. I just wanted to shout, "seriously, its a lump, its right there." It was maddening at the time, but in retrospect I can see that he is an expert, he wants to know the whole picture personally. When he finished, he said that I should get dressed and then he would meet us in the conference room.

That felt like the walk of shame. And I don't mean that in a bad way necessarily, but I want some of you to know what kind of a feeling I am talking about more personally. The conference room was outside the exam room area, across the waiting room. While there were very few people in the waiting room (probably 2 at the most), it was as though they were look at me saying, "We know that walk, we know what you are doing. Welcome to the C-club. Good luck."

In the conference room Dr. Signori explained that my cancer, invasive (or infiltrating) ductal carcinoma is the most common type of breast cancer. That the MRI doesn't show anything new, or rather nothing that we weren't already aware of, and the lymph nodes appear good. There is no cancer in the left breast and it is not touching the muscle (there is separation). The biopsy report shows that my cancer is estrogen receptor positive, progesterone receptor positive, and HER2-positive which means that I have some very good options for medications. AND all of this makes me a good candidate for breast preservation (a lumpectomy instead of mastectomy). BUT there are no guarantees in this game and nothing is set in stone.

He outlined several options for treatment, and a rough timeline of what to expect. My team of doctors plus several other specialists meet on Fridays to discuss new cases and confer on treatment. Dr. Signori said that I would be a definite topic of discussion next Friday. For now, he wants me to have a bone scan, an MRI of the brain, and a CT scan to be certain that this isn't anywhere else. We decided that we would like to attempt to shrink the tumor (and see if it will respond to the types of medications it should) to make surgery easier, so I will have my chemo port put in within the week.

I have to say that I walked away from that appointment unsettled. I have been blaming it on a lack of connection with the doctor and a gut feeling that it wasn't right. But after a weekend to let it digest and to reflect I think I am in good hands. I am still going to seek a second opinion, but I am not going to abandon the forward motion that is currently underway. As my Aunt Pat told me tonight, for the medical world, I am moving at light speed and everything is going according to what she would expect. That was enough to make me able to get some rest tonight.

Some of the links I checked out this weekend:
http://www.cancer.org/Cancer/BreastCancer/DetailedGuide/breast-cancer-treating-by-stage
http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/diagnosis/her2.jsp
http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/bone-scan

The BIG C and little me

And so begins a new chapter in my life.....

I will apologize now to those who I know I should call and tell personally, and to those that I probably should have let read this and told personally, things aren't as cheery as I may have appeared recently (nor are they as dark).

On February 11th (it was the Saturday before Valentine's Day--I had to look the date up), I discovered a lump in my right breast. I noticed that there was an indentation in my boob (it looked as if I had been wearing a too small bra--like a sock line after a long day on your feet--only I had been in bed for the night). I did a self exam, and it just didn't feel right. Sean and I were having a rough morning and I kept it to myself until I realized that I was snapping at things that were just dumb. I pushed him into our itty-bitty bathroom, flashed the girls and helped him feel what I found. He was ready to rush to the hospital that moment (*chuckles, he would be concerned about those).

Valentine's Day morning had us (oh, that is me, my hubby, and 3-almost-4 yr old son) in the Ob/Gyn's office for another opinion about the lump. Yet another agreement that it was definitely a lump; one that needed to be looked at more carefully. She wrote a script for a diagnostic mammogram (for those who, like me a month ago, have no idea what that means--they squish your breasts and take x-rays then send you for an ultrasound of your boobs).

March 2nd was Squish Day. After what felt like an eon of waiting for the day to arrive, it came on what was supposed to be one of the best days of the year. We were FINALLY signing on our new house. We did the final walk through on the house at 10am. Squish was scheduled for 1:30pm. Signing was at 3pm. All started ok, I LOVE THIS HOUSE!!!!!!! Arrived at Oakwood Breast Care Center on time.

**for those not in the know, when you get a mammogram you are taken to a locker room of sorts given a half-hospital gown to put on and asked to wait in a secondary waiting room with a bunch of other women. For the sake of my male friends, I will even describe this scene as a roomful of other women who are also without their own shirts. While not the scene they are all picturing, it was not scary even though I was terrified.

The kind woman who took my first mammogram was perfect. She told me exactly what was going to happen and made sure that there were no surprises. While not the most comfortable feeling in the world, it wasn't nearly as painful as I was expecting. (for the sake of those who are counting--I'm a math teacher, its what I do--this makes person #4 to do a boob check) She passed me off to the Ultrasound Technician, Debbie (#5). Neither of them were chatty. Neither of them gave any sign that this test was going well. More than once it was said that I can be glad that this isn't ten years ago.... Debbie took her time and looked very serious throughout my rub down. She was calm, and kind, but the vibe in the room was cold prickles not warm fuzzies. When she finished she went out and got the radiologist. They were gone for what felt like eons, but they came back into the ultrasound room together. He copped his own feel (#6) and then started talking. "it looks like it is about 3cm" "it seems to be moving" "you're young" "it needs to be biopsied and it will need to be removed regardless of the result" So I asked if was definitely cancerous, or what did he think. His response will be stuck in my head forever, "it is more than likely cancerous, but needs to be biopsied to be certain." Then I get a bit of a wah-wah-wah Charlie Brown's teacher effect of what was said next.... I was taken back to the locker room and got dressed and had to wait for another nurse to come get me to schedule biopsy.

It is now 2:45pm, I am supposed to be 25 miles away having the best day of 2012 so far, and I am in a room waiting to talk about how to find out whether or not I have cancer.... If you don't know my husband, well actually it may be more for those who do know him, he is 100% supportive and patient when it comes to our family's health. He tells me to take my time and be careful, he sounds more upset that it wasn't quick than upset because I am late. Nurse Nancy the Navigator (seriously, i can't make that stuff up) tells me about the biopsy procedure, sets the first available date, and with words of support and good luck sends me on my way to the closing.

In the rain, through a traffic jam, and getting lost I made it to the title office. Along the way Nurse Nancy calls and tells me that she convinced someone else to give up an earlier appointment and that she will email me the information since I was driving. I really like Nurse Nancy. My hubby has gone through all the papers and done his signing part. I arrive at 4pm, apologize profusely, and start signing my name on what feels like a million sheets of paper. (listening in my head to Mom Dolin and Niki yelling at me, but trusting that this part HAS to be ok.) by 4:30 we have the keys to our NEW HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, March 3 is MOVING DAY!!!! I LOVE MY NEW HOUSE!!!!!

And then there were boxes, and more boxes, and more boxes..... each distraction better than the next.

I won't bore you with the teaching challenges for that week, but trust me it was one of those weeks. BUt to lighten things up, I had my annual exam at the ob/gyn and since there was a student with my doc we can increase the tally to #7. :)

Thursday, March 8th, 7:30AM armed with all the good luck I was wished I went for my biopsy. It was a needle biopsy which I expected to be painful and combatted my fear by bringing my hubby along (only to discover that there is no secret passageway for a male to get through to the inner sanctum). So with my mom at home watching Jake, and Sean sitting in the waiting room I faced the needle alone. **For the record it is probably all the better that my mom wasn't there, she passed out when they were doing a routine poke to my face when I was younger. I can't even imagine what might have happened with this.**

I was lucky enough to have Debbie the ultrasound lady and a female radiologist (#8) doing the poke. While they numbed my boob they again reiterated that i was sooo lucky to be now and not ten years ago. The procedure was quick and I felt as though it was loud. Maybe that was from the vibration of the machine, but I can honestly say that I was starting to get scared. There was not much talk of it might be good news, when I expressed that to Sean and Mom later they both poo-poo'd me and I agreed I was really stressed and I wasn't listening carefully.

It takes 48 hours to get biopsy results. It was a long weekend for everyone.

On Monday, my Ob/Gyn called me, and when i didn't answer the second call, they called my husband who emailed Julie, who told me I HAD to call the office. I called at the start of 7th hour. I started the conversation with, "I am standing in front of my class right now." I agreed to call back at 3:05. At 3:07, I was being told to get a pencil and write down "malignant invasive ductal carcinoma at least intermediate grade." After assuring Kathryn that I was in the best place I could be to get this news. I called Sean. I don't even know if I told him what I wrote down, I know I said it's cancer and I cried. I'm pretty sure he did too. I pulled myself "together" and walked out of my room only to discover that there were 2 young women waiting for me. I asked them to come back.... OK truth be told, I thought about just helping them with their questions, but I couldn't do it. I walked to Julie's room and then to the office and then back to my room and waited for the troops to find me. I have the best coworkers and friends on the planet.

Tuesday, holy crap that is today, I had my previously scheduled appointment with the breast surgeon (#8). (I had been told that the lump needed to come out regardless so I took the first appointment they could make.) At 10:30 today, 12 hours ago, I started my battle with breast cancer. Sean and I listened to what the surgeon, Dr. Pawlik, had to say and we asked a lot of questions.

What's next? What do we do? ....... and all the others we thought of that aren't in my head now.
So, I am not going to bite off more than I can chew. We are going to take each step we are given and move as aggressively as we can.

I am young, this makes me rare but increasing in number. The lump may or may not be attached to the muscles, I will have a MRI and a PET-CT to gather more information. MRI is on Thursday. I need an oncologist, someone who will be aggressive and who will not let me put my head in the sand no matter how much I want to. I have an appointment to meet someone that fits that mold Friday, if the current trend in recommendations is any indicator I have confidence that he will be my guy. I even met with a plastic surgeon today (#9) to discuss options if I have to have a mastectomy. I will be tested to see what my genetics say about this cancer thing and how that will effect my treatment.

I will be OK. I am strong. I am brave. I am armed with questions and I have so many people to hold me up that I have no doubt that I will win this battle no matter how long or rough the road is.