Bald and beautiful

Just a short post today. I went and had my white blood cell booster shot this morning and this one went over much better than the last! Some Claritin D and Tylenol really did the trick (thanks to all who gave me this advice). I've felt pretty good all day and even had the energy to do some laundry (wash and fold- not putting it away, now that takes too much energy), do the dishes, and the biggest, most heartbreaking thing was getting my head shaved.

For the past couple days my scalp had been really sore and I was told that's usually the first sign of hair loss. I had been preparing myself for this moment since early November, but nothing can compare to the moment you run your fingers through your hair and all you get is a big clump of your own hair... I had a mini breakdown in the shower and made my husband come look at our drain. This is what we both saw...

It really hit me then.

I was losing my hair. Right now.

After my breakdown, I tracked down my hairstylist's phone number and thankfully she had an opening today. I was taking control. I was making the decision. It was my choice. I was going to just shave it all off.

Katy was wonderful and took me to the back of the salon so it could be a private moment. I'm not going to lie, there were tears shed, by all three of us (Colin was there too). It was an interesting feeling seeing so much hair sitting in my lap. I had never seen that much of my own hair on the floor before! But Katy was again fantastic and after she was done she washed my scalp and put on a scarf I had brought. While this was a traumatizing experience, well all of this has been, I felt powerful and beautiful. I just kept saying, "I hope I don't have a deformed head so maybe I can rock being bald." Katy reassured me that I had a beautiful head and that I could definitely rock it. So thank you Katy!

This is me, and my Starbucks, after my shaving event. My husband said there were stares while we were in Stabucks, but I knew that would happen! Thankfully I have a strong spirit and an army of supporters behind me, so no look or stare is going to bring me down. I'm going to keep my chin up and know that I'm fighting a battle everyday and it's just hair. Losing your hair is personal and emotional, but this is my reminder that I'm a fighter everyday and that it's ok to not have my brown, thick locks for the time being. Who knows, maybe my hair will grow back blonde and curly. I wonder what my husband will think of that?!

Well now that I've shown you me with a head scarf, here is me rocking my Natalie Portman/Demi Moore GI Jane bald head!

Thank you all for taking this journey with me. Until next time.

AD

Round 2

Well this morning starts round 2 of chemo. I'm a little nervous. Ok, I'm extremely nervous. Currently I still have a full head of my lush, dark, straight hair. Later this week I'm pretty sure I'll only have wisps as it's almost a guarantee I will lose my hair. I've come to terms with it, but it still makes me nervous because then I will look like a cancer patient. And ya know what, when they say you'll lose your hair, you lose ALL your hair! I'm ok it having to shave my legs and not blow drying my hair, but my eyebrows, that freaks me out!

The best part of this treatment is I got a new chemo outfit for Christmas from my dad. Now don't worry, the sales associate at VS helped him pick the outfit! And for those of you who know Mean Girls, you'll appreciate the reference.

I'm not really into selfies, but I had to share the outfit with you all.

The only thing that could make it better is if it said Monday since that's my treatment day. And why yes, that is a pink phone case too. Good thing I like the color pink!

Also, look at these awesome new nerdy socks my step-dad got me for Christmas!

New clothes always make me feel better and today I could use all the encouragement I can get! So if you're the praying kind please send some my way!

And here we go. Hope the IV goes in with fewer pokes this time!

AD

Christmas week!

I've gotten very lucky throughout this entire journey. While going through chemotherapy during the holidays doesn't seem lucky, I get to avoid having a treatment Christmas week. So yay for a week off!

When I last left you, I was headed back to work for Day 3 of my first cycle. I didn't make it past 12:45 pm. But hey, I was proud of myself for making it that far! My daily journal is helping me keep track of my days and how I feel. Let me tell you, Day 3 was absolutely HORRIBLE. I went to my car during my lunch hour, which I took a little early, and slept for an hour! That did not even help my body, it actually just made it worse. I was exhausted. So I went home... and slept for the rest of the afternoon. AND went to bed at 8PM! It was just a rough day all around.

Day 4 (Thursday) was much better. I actually felt good and didn't even take a nap during the day, even though I wanted to. That night, I was very proud of myself. I stayed up until 9PM! Woo hoo. Yes, I know that seems very early to a normal adult, but since I had been going to bed at 8PM since my treatment, and felt like going to bed at 7PM most nights, I felt it was an accomplishment. Small victories!

So far I am hanging in there and excited to be able to have Christmas week off. Not only from chemo, but today started my two (yes, I said TWO) week vacation from work!

I'm excited and looking forward to what 2015 will hold for me and my family, but until then...

Merry Christmas!

AD

Post-first treatment

Well I survived. The worst part of the whole experience that first day was getting poked three times with a needle trying to start my IV. That was an awful experience, and I felt bad for the nurse too. I could see she wasn't exactly enjoying making me cry while digging around in my hand and then my forearm trying to find a vein.

The treatment itself wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. The first thing they gave me was a mix of a steroid and anti nausea medication, which I was thankful for! Next came lots of saline. And then came the fun chemo drug. This is the one that causes mouth sores, so they had me suck on lots of ice cubes to try and help inhibit them from even starting. This med was interesting because it looked like the cough syrup that we give Kolton, bright red and goopy. Now the second chemo drug was a the "fun" one. This is one that had to be given over the course of an hour and gave me a really funny feeling, like having chlorine up my nose. Fun times in the infusion room!

Day one was pretty good, I was just exhausted. Which I guess is to be expected, I took a short nap in the afternoon, and then ended up going to bed at 8:30 PM because I was still so tired. I slept until 6:30 AM. Talk about one long night of sleeping!

Day two started off pretty good. My mom made sure I had my anti nausea meds early so that hopefully I would feel good going forward. Lots of cat naps in my recliner and waiting around to go get my shot at the doctor's office. The doctor's office was hopping when I went for my shot. There was even a therapy dog there with one of the patients. Kolton had a blast petting the dog and it eased a lot of the stress I was feeling! The shot itself only took about two minutes and felt like a bee sting. The side effects of the shot were much worse. I felt achey in my legs and knees and felt exhausted. So again, I took a nap.

I've come to realize that I am going to be tired for the entirety of this treatment. So long as I can take a nap or two, I think I'll be okay!

Today is my first day back at work and it's been an interesting hour thus far. Hopefully a nap during lunch will help with everything!

One treatment down. 15 more to go!

Until next time...

AD

Chemo. Such a scary word.

So today is the day. Chemo.

This whole process has been surreal, but knowing that I am going to have chemicals running through my body today that are not only going to kill the cancer cells, but also any other rapidly dividing cells as well (healthy cells). After today I do not know what my life will look like. I have no idea how I will react to the treatment. I have no idea when I will lose my hair, because it's a guarantee that I will. That is the hardest part of this whole ordeal. I have no idea what any of this will look like. Although, who knew a relatively healthy 26 year old would be the face of breast cancer (with no family history at that).

Today's post is a short one, but I wanted to share my frustrations and apprehensions with those who are following.

I have never been a very religious person, rather I would consider myself spiritual. This journey has made me realize there is someone out there with a greater plan and that I am going through this for a reason. Whatever your beliefs or religion, I ask that you pray today. Not only for me, but for my family who is going through this awful journey with me. Pray for my 15 month old who has no idea what his mama is going through (which I am VERY happy about). And pray for all those who have to walk this same path and may not make it to the other side.

I'm feeling very blessed this morning even though I'm terrified and I feel very lucky to have a sense of calming going into this first treatment.

Until next time.

AD

Needles, so many needles

Update: I am officially done with all shots! Well for IVF that is, not so much in general.

It is the strangest feeling. We've been conditioned all of our lives to avoid inflicting pain on our-self and now I have to (twice a day) give myself shots in my stomach. Two shots in the morning and two shots in the evening, that's a lot of shots over the course of 11 days. AND they even added in a third shot for four days. I have given myself a total of 25 shots and I'm pretty sure I'm over my fear of needles.

This cycle was an emotional roller coaster. They were trying to get as many eggs as possible to develop to give me the best chance for having kids later on. And let me tell you, they cranked my estrogen levels through the freaking roof! One minute I was happy making dinner and cleaning the kitchen, the next a puddle of tears (for no apparent reason, well other than my husband talking to me loudly). Yea, sorry babe for that :-). Thankfully though, that meant the shots were doing what they were supposed to and that's all I really wanted. This was an odd thing to have to go through and I can sympathize for all who had or will have to do this, it's not easy.

The night of my first shot was actually kind of funny. I'm so glad that I have some great nursing friends and Alli just happened to still be in Columbus for Thanksgiving to help! She came over and we watched the video on how to mix the medication (yea, not only did I have to give myself the shots I had to mix them as well!) then we gathered all the needles and medicine and all that goes with those two. Alli mixed the first medication and gave me the shot, it wasn't bad at all. Then came the fun part (and by fun I mean terrifying). I mixed the next medication and gave myself the shot. It was such a strange feeling and Alli's advice was to "do it like you're throwing a dart". Thankfully that advice worked and I survived the first round, but there were quite a few more to go.

All went well with the shots after that first night, except for one... When I finally had to add a third shot in the evening, it was easy (a pre-filled needle), except that I had freaked myself out a bit. When I went to do the third shot (my husband, who was my "fat" holder on my stomach, started laughing at me). Apparently I was too nervous and didn't do it quick or hard enough to break skin, and it bounced right off! That was an interesting feeling as well. But alas, I made it through.

During this process I have had more ultrasounds and bloodwork done that I believe anyone needs to have done in a lifetime. Every other day I was at the doctors office at 7:30 AM to have blood drawn and then an ultrasound. It was exhausting! But FINALLY the day arrived that I would have my retrieval (originally the day I would start chemo, but that's another post). We had to be at the office bright at early (well really dark and early) at 7AM to begin. It was uncomfortable and we talked about things I never in my life would have dreamed my husband and I would talk with strangers about. They hopped me up on a narcotic so I wouldn't really feel anything and the procedure went well. 12 eggs. Yes I said TWELVE EGGS were taken out of my body in a very short amount of time. Wham, bam and we were done. I think the longest part of the entire procedure was recovering from the narcotic, which my body doesn't always have the best response to. Dizzy, light headed, nauseousness were all side effects that are possible. I had all of them. The nurse sat me up slowly, extremely slowly. Finally she decided I wasn't able to walk to the car on my own two legs and got a wheel chair. Laying down I was fine, but as soon as I stood up, I felt sick. I dry heaved the entire walk from our driveway into our living room and finally just face planted on my couch because I was so sick! Lots of napping was in my immediate future!

After a few hours I woke up, ate some lunch and felt a little better. It was an interesting morning and I ended up being very happy that I did not have my treatment that afternoon, I couldn't even imagine what I would have felt like then!

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Until next time.

AD

Just pile it on

So I finally knew I needed to go through chemo. Lucky me...

Now on to the medical oncologist appointment. Thankfully I really liked the oncologist since I will be stuck with her for the next 5-10 years! This appointment went as well as I could hope for, except I found out what my chemo treatment would be, and this unfortunately was not was I was hoping. No pill. No keeping my hair. No "easy" treatment. I would have to go through an aggressive two-round drug cocktail for chemotherapy that will last 20 weeks. For those of you who don't know (I didn't before this appointment) cancerous tumors are judged based on their "stage" (research terminology) and "grade" (how fast are the cancerous cells reproducing). My "stage" was good, 1A the lowest they could hope for. Awesome. But my body hates me and my "grade" on a scale of 1-3 (1 is the best, 3 the worst) my cells were a 3. Of course. My cancer had been caught early enough that it didn't have a chance to grow any larger, but they way my oncologist put it, I have "very angry cells" that are reproducing quickly. This is common in young patients diagnosed with breast cancer, it's usually a much more aggressive type.

The one good take away from this appointment is that I had a plan, no more hurry up and wait for me. BUT it would be more of that. The doctor asked if my husband and I wanted more kids in our future, my answer was YES. Colin keeps saying that he has his boy, so he's done, HA! Because of the answering being yes, my treatment just became a little more complicated. With this aggressive treatment, my chances of having children naturally after treatment would be very, very slim since the drugs they are putting me on are VERY potent. So here's another wrench.

For once though, my body was working on my side and after contacting the reproductive doctor we could go through the process (rather quickly) and do an egg harvest. My chemo treatment was going to start last Monday, December 1st, but with the IVF, it was pushed back to start on Monday, December 8th. So now only did I find out I had to go through chemo, I also found out that I had to go through IVF to have any more children. It's been a rough couple of months for me and my spirit. But thankfully my body was working in my favor and it was possible to start the IVF process in time.

I think the IVF process has been one of the harder aspects of me to deal with. While I am thankful that this process is available and I am able to do this, they don't make it easy. It's expensive, time consuming, and very counter intuitive (having to stab myself multiple times with needles twice a day). And when I'm saying expensive, I mean E-X-P-E-N-S-I-V-E. My insurance doesn't cover any of the procedure and it includes over $7,000 worth of medications, with the doctor's fee of just under $5,000 too. So looking at these numbers, there is a total expense of roughly $12,000. That is just bat-shit insane. Who can afford that? Surely not me and my teacher husband!

While these numbers were hard to digest, I did get some good news from the doctor's office. Because we were not opting to go through this and because I have cancer and will be going through chemotherapy, one of the drug companies has a policy in place to give the $7,000 in medication free. Ok, we could do this, with some help of course. I am definitely not the most religious person around, but I knew in that moment that there was someone up there working in my favor and making all of this possible. I freaked out a little still, just about the remainder of the cost, but with so much of the cost covered, I could get through. Now on to the hard part, stabbing myself with a needle! I'm probably going to need some help with that.

On my to-do list: call my nursing friends!

Until next time.

AD

Not so lucky

The day of my surgery all I did was sleep, it was kind of nice. The part was that I couldn't do anything with my son. He's one ya see and thinks people are jungle gyms, which would not have been good with fresh wounds that had been sewn shut that morning! So bed it was for me, luckily it was close to the bathroom if I needed it. I was off for two weeks post-surgery and it was nice to be able to rest and recover. I watched a lot of movies and caught up on some TV shows. I'm really into How to Get Away with Murder now!

So a week and a half goes by and I go in for my check up with the surgeon. Thankfully I really like the doctor's office or I would have been worn out by now. I check in with her and everything looked good healing wise, but there was some bad-ish news - it was another hurry up and wait game with another test. This test was going to determine whether or not I would need to go through chemotherapy. This test gives numbered results from 0-50. If I were to score 0-18 I would be considered "low risk" for recurrence and chemo would give limited benefits. When I heard this, I hoped and prayed for a "failing" score, which I don't think I have ever done in my life!

She projected that my results would be in the following Tuesday. Well Tuesday came and went with no phone call from the surgeon, so I tried to forget about it hoping it was a good sign. Nope. The call came the next day with some not so great news. 25. That was my score. A freaking 25. Another "gray area" result in this process. Great.

So this meant that I had to do the one thing I was really trying to avoid if I could, chemotherapy. As soon as she told me what that score meant, I hung up the phone and bawled. That was the first time I really cried about the cancer, about what I would have to go through, about what my family will have to endure. It was awful and terrifying all wrapped in the unknown. I couldn't contain the tears, they just kept coming. For two days I didn't want to do anything but cry. Not only do I have to go through chemo, but I have to do it through the holidays, what a great present that's going to be.

Now I was just hoping my appointment with the medical oncologist the next day was going to be some good news. That I get to do the "easier" chemo and maybe it'll only be a pill and maybe I won't lose my hair or maybe I won't have to really do it. NOPE, not my luck, but that's for another post and another time.

It's a good thing I like the color pink, because I think everything I own will soon be pink.

AD

Hurry up and wait.

When we last left off, I was telling you how many doctors I had to see. And let me tell you again, A LOT! Let's recap all of the doctors I have seen so far: OB/GYN, breast specialist, surgical oncologist, genetics, reproductive specialist, and a plastic surgeon. Again, A LOT of doctors. This was the norm for cancer patients I was beginning to realize.

Out of all of my new appointments, then genetic counselor was the more terrifying. I am the first person in my ENTIRE family to be diagnosed with breast cancer, so we weren't thinking it was a genetic mutation, but then again I am 26 year old with cancer which is also not normal. After the counseling session, we decided to go through with the high risk gene panel, which would take 2-3 weeks to get results. The hard part was my surgery was schedule for 20 days out (so we were hoping for the shorter end of that time-frame). Let me tell you that luck just wasn't on my side. Two weeks after my appointment, still no results. But I did have my consultations with the reproductive specialist and plastic surgeon, which made me feel more comfortable, at least for now.

About a week out from surgery I was going crazy because there was still no news about my genetic testing! I called the counselor three or four times because I needed to feel like I was doing something! Thankfully I had a great counselor who understood that I was scared and frustrated and she let me know that as soon as she heard anything, she would call. So a few days before my surgery, I still didn't exactly know what procedure I was going to have done: lumpectomy or bi-lateral mastectomy? It was a horrible feeling for a control freak like myself. 

After a few days I talked with the genetic counselor again, and after talking with the lab directly, my results would be in early the next week (my surgery was scheduled for Wednesday). I was slightly freaked out, but thankfully the nurse from my surgeon's office called and solidified a plan; we were going ahead with surgery as scheduled with removing the tumor and if need be I would have a secondary surgery later. While this isn't exactly the news I wanted, I was very glad to have a plan in place going forward.

My surgery was scheduled for 7:30AM on Wednesday, October 29th which meant I had to be at the hospital by 5:30AM. While I was glad to be a morning surgery, getting to the hospital while it's still dark out was not my cup of tea. I had a big crew with me that morning as well: Colin, my mom, stepdad, stepmom, dad, and brother were all there! They brought me up to pre-op quickly and then we went through the routine of answering, "Name? D.O.B?". I've gotten really good at answering those questions before even being asked now!

My pre-op nurse was great and made it a little easier to relax (she found a vein quickly for my IV, which always helps). I was the first patient of the morning for my doctor, so everything was running smoothly and on time. When I saw my surgeon that morning, we talked about the genetic testing and how those results STILL weren't in. I said to her, "I don't care at this point when they come in, as long as it's not today or I'll be so angry!" Guess what... yea you got it right. They came in WHILE I WAS IN SURGERY! And the worst part of all of this... they couldn't tell me anything about the results. I did have a genetic mutation on the BRCA2 gene, but they weren't sure what that meant. The counselor said it could be a year, five years, or even ten years before they discover what that certain mutation means. So it was a bunch of hurry up and wait for no real answer, awesome!

Besides receiving the genetic results the day of my surgery, everything went swimmingly. They removed the tumor and two lymph nodes just as a precaution. I had some good medicine to help with the pain and recovery and slept a lot. So the hard part was done... or so I thought.

Until next time. And always remember...

AD

And so it begins.

So where did I leave off?

Oh yea, I was on vacation in Florida. I miss the beach, the sunshine, and the tranquility. But in addition to all of that, I had a huge weight I was carrying around, the cancer diagnosis. Thankfully I didn't really have to do anything or even think hard for that matter while we were in Florida. The breast specialist sent my biopsy results to my OB/GYN's office and unbeknownst to me, had scheduled an appointment with a surgical oncologist.

My first reaction when they called me with this information was, "I'm not available, I'll be in Cleveland for work." It took me a minute to realize (after saying this out loud to my mom) that I was crazy. Of course this would work and I'm sure if I shared my diagnosis with work that everything would be covered.

Share my diagnosis... could I really do that? It was hard enough sharing that news with family, wouldn't telling my co-workers make it even more real? First, I emailed my boss who had no idea I had even had testing done. Then I emailed everyone else who knew I had a biopsy done. This sucked. After sharing this horrible, heartbreaking, punch in the gut news I never could have imagined the kind of encouragement and support I would receive. Everyone was rooting for me, I really did have an army behind me. Once I realized that, I knew I could fight and fight hard.

So on to another doctor's appointment (you'll see that a lot in this).

I was in Cleveland traveling for work that week, so I stayed with my mom and we woke up dark and early at 5AM so we could leave for Columbus by 6AM for the appointment. At this point it hadn't really sunk in yet who I was going to see... I had to see a "cancer doctor".

Thankfully the appointment went well and I received a lot of good reading material (not stuff I was every HOPING to read, but what the hell). I was going to have an MRI (which my army scheduled for that night), genetic testing (which my army scheduled for that day), consultations with both a plastic surgeon and a reproductive specialist, and scheduled my surgery. So within a few weeks I will have seen seven doctors, SEVEN. That is insane. I had a hard time keeping names straight after that.

After this day, I knew this journey was going to be a long one and hopefully I was up for the fight (of course I was/am, I'm me).

Thank you for taking this journey with me. And remember to always...

AD

The start of it all.

Before my diagnosis I wasn't your typical 26 year old. I am a wife and a mother. Most of my friends aren't even in serious relationships and I'm married with a baby boy (16 months old really, so he's more of a toddler now). But I digress.

This journey started back on September 13th. It was like any other Saturday in Columbus, OH, planned around the Ohio State football game. I was up with my little one and husband around 7:30 AM and we were hanging out like usual. I was getting ready to take my shower when I got a searing pain in my breasts. It felt like I was being stabbed from the inside out. I felt around to see if I was bruised and may have not known, but my husband didn't see anything unusual. So I let it be, but the pain continued. I felt around my left breast (since that is where the pain was localized) and that's when I felt it. A lump.

I panicked, I didn't know what to do. I made my husband feel it to make sure I wasn't just imagining. He did and my first reaction was "what do I do now"? I was in a daze, I didn't want this to be happening. He insisted that I call my doctor, but it was Saturday they weren't open. SO I did the next best thing, email. I got an urgent message from my doctor's office Monday morning, they wanted me in ASAP. I was already at work, but I hopped back in my car and was at their office by 9:00 AM.

This time I knew I wasn't crazy, the doctor even felt the lump. She did not hesitate and sent me a referral to a breast specialist. I scheduled that appointment for Thursday the 18th. Thursday came and went and I had an ultrasound and a mammogram and then had to schedule a biopsy because it was abnormal. As soon as I heard that word "abnormal" I knew this wouldn't be good for me. I'm not the luckiest of people and somehow in the back of my mind I just knew this was cancer.

Originally my biopsy was scheduled for Friday the 26th, the day before I would leave for vacation with my mom, step dad, and son in Florida. I'm an Admission Counselor and this was travel season, my schedule was not conducive to scheduling a doctor's appointment. After calling my mom and husband and telling them when it was scheduled, they were not happy that I was waiting over a week to get this done! So I called back and rescheduled the biopsy for Wednesday the 24th.

That day I was out doing two high school visits, but luckily I was done by lunchtime. I met my mom at my house and we set off for the office. The biopsy itself wasn't too bad, but my shoulder had dislocated and made my arm numb during the procedure. I left and we go lunch, did a little shopping, and finally returned home to my husband and son.

The next day was fine, no real worries. The doctor said it would take about 2-3 days for the results of the biopsy and that usually they came in between 1-4 PM. I told her I wanted to know either way, on Friday or Monday (I would be in Florida on vacation). Knowing that my results could be in Friday afternoon, I was a WRECK. Luckily I was busy in the office, but I couldn't eat or sit still. I always had to be doing something and I was worrying myself sick. Finally at 3:45 PM I realized my results wouldn't be in today and I could finally relax a little. I ate some fruit and got back to work, I had to prepare to be out of the office for TWO weeks with vacation and then travel in Cleveland. So thankfully I had much to do.

The weekend came and went in Florida and I was happy to be on the beach seeing my little guy in the sand and water for the first time! It was exciting, beautiful, relaxing, and tranquil- just what I needed after the past couple weeks. Monday rolled around and we were down at the beach as usual in the morning and I didn't bring my phone, I wasn't sure if I was ready for the results, I just knew it was going to be bad news. After lunch we took a walk on the beach and came back to a missed call. It was a 614 number so I knew it HAD to be my doctor. Sure enough the voice mail confirmed that and I called her back.

We spent the first few minutes on the phone talking about vacation and my son. Then came the hard part - she broke the news that one of my biopsies (the lump I had felt) came back malignant. Never once did she use the word "cancer", but obviously I knew what a malignant tumor meant. Strangely I didn't really cry, I shed one or two tears and then I was done. I got off the phone and had to break the news to my mom and step dad waiting in the other room. It was the first time that I had said it out loud. "I have breast cancer."

Those were four of the hardest words I have had to say in my 26 year life. Even harder than telling my family and friends that I had a miscarriage.

Then came the harder part - telling my husband who was at home without me or our son to comfort him. Then that became the hardest thing I had to do in my 26 years. I wasn't sad or feeling sorry for myself, I was PISSED. Why me? Someone my age shouldn't get cancer, let alone breast cancer! This wasn't fair and I wanted nothing more than a stiff drink (which my step dad readily got for me, thank you tequila) and to punch something (which I didn't get to do, sadly).

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this would be the result, but it's still hard to hear those words coming out of your own mouth. This was only the very beginning of my journey.

-AD