Writting is my ground wire

Each day is another footstep marked on our road leading to the end. Some of our paths are sunny, others have moments of darkness. Some are strait and narrow while others are long and winding. Each is just as beautiful and amazing as the next. We all have our own battles, our own fights, our own uniqunesses. These qualities are what make us who we are. Why is society so set on being cookie cutter people always trying to be a mold that you're expected to be, rather than unveailing yourself and letting others see your true self. Be bright, be bold, be edgy, be you! Why isn't it as easy as it sounds?! The fear of what they might think is often what holds us back. If I am liked for the person people see me to be, then why can't I be liked for the person they don't see? I am still me no matter the case. Why can't you let your voice speak when you stumble? Because you will stumble if they know you are or not, so why should you cut yourself off from the world and allow yourself to suffer in silence, alone.

I will never forget when I read a comment pertaining to a teen cutting. The comment was "you better not be! You're better than that!". It is this ignorance that keeps those struggling in silence. Mental illnesses have nothing to do with someone being better than the next. Fighting a mental illness doesn't make you less than. And sadly only those that truly understand what it feels like are those that have been there.

Lately I have been trying my hardest to wear my struggle behind a smile and to show the world that I am ok. In all reality I am not at my best, but I really am trying my best. I'm fighting again and have really been trying to hide it. I have always turned to writting to keep me grounded through my storms. I told my husband that I just couldn't blog this one out like I do with everything else. He asked me why not?! Why couldn't I be transparent through this and hope to help another feel less alone, just as I have with everything else? I have been affraid to speak.

The number on the scale pulls me. It is a deep burning pain in my chest. Many know I have struggled with eating disorders through out my adolescence and early adult life, few know it will remain a lifetime battle with the occasional slip. Mental illnesses are much deeper than what is seen on the surface. Often I wonder if it is even real. And then I find myself sobbing and unable to breathe having a full blown panic attack for no reason. To feel the constant fight with the small voice in your head and to give all your energy to just fight back and hold your ground. Sometimes the voice wins and you stumble. To feel at war with yourself. Some days are easier than others.

I feared gaining weight to perform the liposuction and fat transfer to complete my post mastectomy reconstruction would be difficult. In fact, I know myself well enough that I knew it wouldn't be easy. I never anticipated it being this hard though. I had felt I had finally killed this demon. Turns out I had only found a way to coexist with it. I have a daughter and a husband, I have so much to live for and so much to give the world. I want to be healthy!! I want to be strong. I eat, and those that know me would laugh and contest my ability to outeat anybody! What many don't know is that I have made 105lbs my safety net for the past 5 years. I could eat what I wanted to as long as I never went over this number. 101 is where I feel most comfortable but 105 was the cut off. As soon as that number crept up I would become more cautious with my food choices to ensure I wouldn't come out on the other side. To some this number sounds sickeningly small, but for my size it is actually right in the healthy weight range for me. I know because I did my research when setting this goal. I know that I have to be a strong positive example for my daughter, and I promised my husband I would be healthy, so I made healthy my goal. I became an avid runner, I lifted weights, I ate what I needed to keep up with my activity level and keep me building muscle. I felt strong, I felt in control, I felt amazing! I felt that I had won!!! That is until I began my weight gain journey.

To admit that this isn't easy for me leaves me feeling small. The idea that I made it through infertility and loss, a hysterectomy and double mastectomy in my 28 years of life and am doing just fine but can't wrap my mind around gaining fat!? It sounds so trivial! It isn't a big deal! Why is it such a big deal?! I don't understand why it is so hard for me. I'm so dedicated to making it through this chapter of my reconstruction that I have been forcing myself to eat when not hungry, eating unhealthy foods to pack on the fat and really trying. I want to prove to myself that I am stronger than this thing, I can't wait to be on the other side. I thought I had this one in the bag. Then I weighed myself and saw I had lost some of what I had gained. I was failing. I typically buy healthy food choices and eat well, so buying Ice cream feels like a waste of money to me, like an unnecessary treat. Consuming unhealthy food choices on a regular basis is against everything I've grown used to in my quest to be healthy. I have began to feel my relationship with food shift and the change left me feeling as if I had spun out of control. I have been fighting bad panic attacks and feel a push and pull between positive optimistic me, and the darkness that dwells within. I try to hide that part of me. I had thought I was doing a great job until a co-worker confronted me asking if I was ok. When I had smiled and told her yes, she said nothing, but gave me a hug. Later I thanked her and told her what was going on. It was her hug that made me feel less alone, even when she didn't know what I was going through. Her acceptance and my husband's advice are what fueled me to write this blog. Our minds are the reasons we go through life suffering through mental battles alone. The fear that the stigmas surrounding them will haunt us and allow us to be alienated. I am writting this blog to tell you all that I am struggling, and I am ok. I am human much like the rest of you. We all have our battles. This is my story, and it isn't over yet; don't be affraid to let the world take part in yours. You don't have to be alone.

Gaining weight

It's crazy how we transition from one point in our lives to the next. When you become so used to the unknown and chaos that life returning back to it's old routine seems both exciting and frightening. It will be strange to have everything behind us. I crave that moment so badly. I've always lived in the moment and seen the silver linnings, or at least tried my hardest to do so, but here lately there's always been something we are trying to get through. Perhaps that is just life. If it isn't one thing, it's the next. Life is made up of a series of unfortunate events. Events that lead us up until the very end of our existence. It is up to us how we let said events effect our future. I choose to thrive in the face of suffering. I have so many reasons to smile and be thankful.

My heart's longing for the contentment and ease of "normal" life almost caused me to tap out early. I am so thankful to have taken the time to think and to have my husband by my side through every torn thought. Wrapping my mind around the idea of weight gain in order to go through with the fat harvest and lipofill wasn't an easy thing to do. But I knew not going through with this procedure because of a personal fear would haunt me forever.

I met with my plastic surgeon two weeks ago and excitedly told her my decision. She said she knew this was the road I would eventually take. I was just stoborn and took a bit to realize it myself. Thing one and thing two are healing wonderfully and have gained some elasticity making me a great canidate for the lipofill. After the procedure is complete my chest should closely resemble that of a normal breast with minimal imperfections. While they will never be real or mine, it is important to be happy with the end result. I was given a goal of gaining 10 pounds. I thought it would be easy, but it is proving to be harder than anticipated. I've spent my life being health conscious and restrictive where certain foods are concerned. I used to be so excited for cheat day to roll around it was pathetic!!! Now every day is cheat day, I force myself to eat when I'm not hungry and I'm missing my healthy food choices. This pressured gain has caused me to go against everything I'm used to while changing my way of thinking. I had been under the impression that I would call My Dr once I achieved our goal. I was panic stricken when my nurse called me with a surgery date! On February 24th I will be having liposuction done on my abdomen, this fat will then be processed and injected into my chest lipofilling away the imperfections by creating a layer of fat separating my skin from my implant. This barrier will give a more natural contour, appearance, and feel.

Having a date has left me anxious and with a deadline. So far I have gained 4.6lbs. I am already feeling and seeing the changes, and I am trying to be ok with them. I am continually looking towards the future reminding myself that this is just another chapter in my story.

Decisions

"Decision:the act or process of deciding; determination, as of a question or doubt, by making a judgment." The course of our lives is constantly decided by the decisions we make. Some are harder to make than others.

This past year has been one full of the biggest decisions I have ever had to make in my life. The choice to fight for myself, the choice ignore my fears and continue with the mastcectomy. The choice to cut my future risk by parting with my nipples. The choice to leave myself transparent and share my story in hopes to help another feel less alone. While emotionally difficult, these choices were all no brainers for me. It isn't about saving the tatas, it is about saving the women and I knew I wanted a healthy future with my family more than I wanted the alternative. My breasts.

I am now 11 weeks post exchange and doing great. I am slowly increasing my activity and while it leaves my muscles sore and tired, it is nice to be getting back to "normal". I LOVE my job and have been working a lot in between enjoying the holidays with my family and closest friends.

Life has been busy and I allowed it to become an excuse to ignore the things I should have been dealing with. I have completely shut myself off from my journey these past few weeks. While it isn't over, it was nice to just live. There are still decisions that need to be made. Weighing my options left me torn, anxious and full of fear. So rather than dealing with my emotions, I shut off. The numbness seems to be my go to. Probably not the most admirable, or smartest thing to do, but it gets me by at times. Truthfully, putting off decisions won't free you from having to make them. Eventually time runs short and you have to make that decision. I can confidently say that after many tears and much debate, I have made mine.

It is no secret that I have struggled through trying to figure out where to go from here. The topic of lipofill and nipples have been ones in question for a while now. As I talked to Zach the other night it finally dawned on me. I had been letting fear cloud my vision. The fear of gaining weight, and how I will feel about my reflection during the process combined with the fear of my eating disorder creeping back up was keeping me from opting against something that could better me. While I'm affraid of the mental battle the weight gain, and lipofill may be, I know for a fact that in 10 years from now I would regret not doing it. When I see my reflection now I see my foobs as incomplete, full of imperfections and damaged so to speak. I do not feel confident topless, not even when it is just me alone with the mirror. As a women that is something important to have. I realized that depriving myself of a finished product for the sole purpose of being affraid of gaining weight may prove that I'm still fighting that fight. This realization allowed me to make my decision. I need to remember that I will be gaining weight for a purpose and it won't be my forever. I've been striving to get back to where I was, when really I should be striving to get through this. I will have a new beginning when all is said and done. A beautiful, healthy, clean slate. All mine for the taking. No matter how hard I try I will never be back to where I was. I am a different person, and I will be better than ever before. All these racing thoughts have allowed me to decide that I will not allow fear to cause me to tap out early. I will continue this journey until the very end. I will gain weight, and do the fat harvest and lipofill. After everything, I owe it to myself to feel confident, proud and see my reflection as nostalgic and beautiful. I will finish my completed chest off with 3d tattooed nipples. I have opted against the nipple reconstruction, but feel the tattoos will be the cherry on top I need. A way of closing this chapter and a symbol of my new begining. I can't wait to live that day.

Fear

They say your past shapes your future. You either learn from it, or grow from it and it constantly shapes the person you will become tomorrow. Parts of it you wish you could forget, while others remain timeless memories to cherish always. By definition past means "gone by in time and no longer existing". Our past is behind us, unable to be changed. But what happens when situations, in combination with the knowledge of the past, envokes fear. Fear that obstacles we once overcame have the possibility to resurrface, and battles we once won become new fights to fight?? Anything is possible. Does such a realization give you a head start or an advantage? Or does this fear cripple you and keep you from making decisions that have the potential to better you in some way, shape or form?

Truth is, I'm scared. This journey has been more than imagined. And while I've made it through all the lumpectomies, mammograms, diagnostics, mastectomy, tissue expansion and breast reconstruction, the fear remains. But this time it's for an entirely different reason. I made it through the worst parts, and while I was scared, I was never undecided on which road to take. I continued onward looking towards that finish line. I knew what needed done, I knew my future depended on it, and I knew I could make it. And I did!!! I am bulletproof. Or am I?

Lately I've been wearing a strong face, laughing through my fears and suffering in silence. I've written this blog many times over in my head, unable to put it into writing for the world to see. I've been transparent and open up until now. Why shut down now?! I am not alone and neither are you. No one should suffer alone, and no one should allow themselves to.

Last week I saw my plastic surgeon to address what turned out to be absesses along my suture line. My body gave up on trying to absorb my stitches and decided pushing them out would be a better idea. Except they had no way out, and instead festered. After 20 minutes of digging, squeezing, and pulling what looked like fishing line out of insicion, I was thankful for my lack of sensation. Aside from this little hiccup thing one and two are healing up nicely.

I've reached a fork in the road and must decide which road to take as I continue into the next steps of my journey. I've always been very confident in my choices and generally know exactly what I want. When trying to come to a conclusion I've always been great at doing research, and weighing my options. But what happens when there is no right or wrong answer?

My skin is thin. This is something of a concern that I'm reminded of at every appointment. It was the reason my inscions healed slowly after the mastectomy and it is now the reason you can see every ripple in my implant,and every differentiation between the implant, alloderm and my muscle. My plastic surgeon has recommended I gain weight so we can harvest fat and lipofill away the imperfections. This is a procedure that is often done on small frammed mastectomy patients. I've done the research and the results leave beautiful, more natural looking "breasts". I struggle with this idea for many reasons and am torn on so many levels.

I've been avoiding making a decision by ignoring the reality all together. When I begin to weigh my options I'm overtaken with anxiety, fear, and even emabrassement. Such a procedure means another road, and another surgery. Truthfully I am ready to be done. I am angry with myself for being a baby while others are fighting bigger fights. I've already won the biggest leg of the race. I wonder if these ideas of wanting to be done could hinder me from continuing onward and achieving a physical appearance that I could look in the mirror and be happy about. At this point in my life I struggle with this a bit. My body has changed a lot in the past year and I'm adjusting. My confidence currently corresponds to whether or not I'm wearing a bra. Is this something I want to feel forever? Will I learn to rock the ripples and become ok with them and the imperfections showing through my skin? Or do I fight for the perfection that my surgeon wants to give?? After everything, do I owe it to myself to get to a point where I am able to love the new foobs? Or do I throw in the towel and learn to love what I currently have just because I want to be done? You can see how my mind has me running in circles. Neither choice is wrong or right, and it is a choice that only I can make. I wish it was a decision I could make.

Truthfully, the idea of gaining weight frightens me. I have struggled my entire life with eating disorders. And while you can overcome and take control of such a mental health disease, it doesn't ever fully go away. It is a lifetime battle of being stronger than the small voices inside your head. About 3 years ago I had a relapse. I had gained weight from the infertility treatments of trying to conceive another baby, and I stumbled..hard. Stress was put on my marriage, and I ended up in counseling and was taking 40mg of Prozac a day. I was finally able to take hold and began my road to recovery. I will never forget the day I shattered my scale on my back porch with tears streaming down my face. I was able to stop taking prozac, began running again, ate healthy and was committed to making strong my new skinny. I fought hard and lost weight the healthy way. When I reached my goal I celebrated by getting this tattoo. What looks like an abstract peacock feather to the world, is deep and powerful to me. The black portion of the "eye" is the NEDA symbol, and the quick of the feather that runs down my spine reads "to thrive in the face of suffering".

For the first time in my life I felt confident in my skin. I worked so hard to get there. To be healthy, and strong both mentally and physically. I stopped being ashamed of my body and embraced it with confidence. This is the same confidence that allowed me to run through Chicago in my underwear for the children's tumor foundation. Being surrounded by men and women of all ages, and body types, putting all insecurities aside for charity is a feeling I won't soon forget.

I have remained confident through all the changes and have overcome many obstacles this year. But I admit, I fear gaining weight. I am affraid of falling back into old habits. I am not sure I am strong enough to start over again. But at least I am at a point where I am able to admit to such. I like to think that alone puts me two steps ahead in the right direction.

Perfecting the softies

Tomorrow will mark 4 weeks since the exchange surgery. The insicions are GORGEOUS and healing better than I could have imagined. In time you'll hardly see the scars at all. At times I find it hard to wrap my mind around the fact that these new things are MINE!!! Through the expansion process there was a temporary mindset. I knew they were part of a process and were paving the way to something else, they weren't mine and my time with them had an ending. They were preparing me for something permanent, something bigger. (Pun intended!)

Last week I sat sat topless in one of the cold office rooms that have become too familiar to me. This time was different than the times before. The excitement of expansion had ended and my usual bubbly self had been replaced with a nauseated version full of anxiety. I knew I would be seeing my surgeon to check on my progress and the dreaded topic of nipples was one that would soon be discused; I didn't feel ready. Thankfully I had my husband by my side giving me all the support I would need.

Dr Hagarty carefully looked over thing one and thing two in their new soft form and was both concerned and worried about the current state of my implants. My thin skin and tiny frame is allowing imperfections to show and the differentiation between the implant and the alloderm has produced a noticeable ridge leaving my gorgeous implants looking strange and unnatural. I have begun physical therapy which involves 20 minutes of rigorous massaging three times a day to try to loosen the band of muscle enough to stop it from pulling. We hope that this will help eliminate some of the imperfections. If this doesn't work my next step is to gain weight so we can harvest fat and prepare for a fat transfer to fill in the gaps. This is a practice that is being done by many plastic surgeons across the country to help give a more natural look and feel to women post mastectomy.

I've been doing my very best to heal this time around sat my stubbornness aside taking it very easy and being cautious. I was very disappointed to learn that somehow I have managed to pop a stitch from the under portion of my left implant taking away from some of the gorgeous contour work that she had done. Aside from that, my muscles are tight and trying to protest my new foreign objects. Thing one is trying to drop and migrate outwards towards my armpit, and the missing stitch makes this fear a real possibility. She ordered me to begin wearing a very good extreme push up bra. This will force the implants to stay up and together hopefully causing them to heal in such a position. Zach was so sweet demanding we head straight to get one. He was patient as we walked circles around Victoria secrets grabbing every push up bra in the store for me to try on. The girl working the fitting room was so kind and acconodating while helping me find the perfect support and fit while. Meanwhile Zach picked out colors trying to add fun to the situation. I stood in the mirror for a bit staring at my reflection feeling akward and overly busty for my small frame. I had gone from nothing to this over a span of months and found myself feeling more self conscious than ever. The topic of nipples is One that has been placed on hold for a while. Our main focus at this time is to heal correctly and work on perfecting the softies. I admit, I'm a bit relieved to have been given more time to think about such a life changing decision.

Where do I go from here?!

Decisions. Our lives are shaped by them. They come in many forms, and while some are miniscule, others completely change the paths of our current existence. Who we are, and where we will go from here are all hinging on the decisions we make.

I'm trying to figure out where to go from here. I never thought twice when it came to the idea of having the mastectomy. I had the facts, I knew my odds, and I was over the bi-monthly dissection of the lumpectomies that had become both repetitive and predictable. Some choices just come as no brainers. I felt the same when the topic of removing my nipples was debated between my breast surgeon and my plastic surgeon. Ones goal was my longevity and health while the other wanted the prettiest picture at the end. I opted to cut my risks completely by removing the last part of my chest that would allow me to view it as my own even once my breast tissue was gone. I made an educated decision based on facts. I knew no matter what choice I made, I would never be the same again. Keeping my nipples wouldn't have changed that.

Here I am months later having recently shed more tears over nipples than I can count. Though not for the reasons you would guess. I'm on the other side; I made it through the most painful journey I've ever faced. I got through the mastectomy, I'm finished with the expansion and reconstruction process and I finally have my soft new implants. Life is resuming back to normal and I'm finally at a point where I can just live and put it all behind me. Or am I?!

During my one week post op my PS asked me if I had any questions concerning nipple reconstruction. I told her that I didn't think it was a procedure I wanted to have. She reminded me that I am young and told me I owed it to myself to at least think about it. She justified her suggestion by saying that currently it is as if I have a head without a face, or eyes without eyebrows. Essentially, my foobs do not and never will look like boobs without nipples. And perhaps she is right. Before the mastectomy I was hell bent against going through nipple reconstruction. Another procedure all for the sole purpose of nipples seemed so silly and unnecessary to me. The foobs will never be boobs to me with or without nipples. Said nipples will never be mine, they will never have feeling, react to hot or cold, nor will they serve any purpose beyond cosmetics reasons. I confided in a wonderful friend of mine who has been going through her own mastectomy journey during the same time as my own, and she had explained the idea as placing the cherry on top. I loved her analogy, and it really got me thinking. Honestly it's all I've been able to think about these past two weeks. I've never been so undecided in my life. I'm usually pretty strong willed and quite often I know what I want and if I don't I turn to facts and statistics to aide in my decisions. I've never felt this way before and the uncertainty has left me completely torn, full of anxiety and I have found myself crying more often then not. Truth is, I don't know what I want aside from having this all behind me. Sometimes I wonder how I am really hidding in the bathroom at the age of 27 crying while I try to decide if nipples are necessary to me. I've never cared much for cherries on top of my sundaes anyhow. Do I need a cherry this time? Do I owe it to myself? I often wonder if my anti nipple reconstruction is a result of me actually being content without them, or if I've been telling myself I don't need them because I'm ready to be done with this chapter of my life. Without them I am already done. I'm healing, I'm back to work, I made it and the rest is history. Nipples signify another step, another procedure and a couple more miles in my race. Do I push on a bit longer to put that cherry on top?? I can't help but feel as if Im being completely selfish by not considering such an option for my husband. During one of my meltdowns I asked him for his opinion and he kindly told me that the foobs don't have any sexual appeal in their nippleless state. He continued to say that I've already sacrificed so much of myself for my health and family that it would be selfish of him to suggest such a procedure. While I value his opinion and am thankful for his honesty, I can't help but wonder if he would see me differently if I had them, and maybe I would see myself differently too?? I feel that perhaps being against the idea is not only selfish of me but maybe even cowardly for opting against such a thing because I'm mentally and emotionally tapped out and over the process. As a wife however, I feel I owe it to my husband to consider the idea. How can a decision really be this hard? I've grown attached to thing one and thing two and have found a particular beauty in them even though they lack the very thing that will complete them. What if I go through with the procedure and am left unhappy with them taking this image of beauty away?? No matter which way I choose it is a decision that I will have to live with for the rest of my exsistsnce, and I'm affraid to make the wrong one.

I meet with my plastic surgeon for my 3 week follow up this coming Tuesday. I've decided that I will go into the appointment with an open mind. I will have my husband by my side and together we will ask questions and gain knowledge to aide is in making an educated decision, rather than one fuled by emotion and fear. I'm not sure I'll ever be 100% certain of which option is best for me, but I hope to soon have a bit more of an idea of where to go from here.

I'm almost there

This morning started out a bit rough. I had cut back my pain meds thinking I was doing better and didn't need them as often. I was proved wrong when my alarm went off this morning and I tried to sit up. Perhaps my pain meds had actually helped more than I had thought they did. Needless to say, I am taking them again. I met with my plastic surgeon for my post op assessment this morning. Tomorrow will mark the end of my first week with my new soft foobies. I have to admit, I keep touching my new cleavage line. I'm completely amazed at how natural it feels. I had gotten so used to the grand canyon sized valley that separated thing one and thing two that having cleavage at all is exciting.

The girls have come a long way in the past 17 weeks. After the mastectomy my chest was actually sunken in. My sternum potruded out which only emphasized how hollow my chest had become. I was stripped of every last bit of breast tissue which actually extends up towards your collar bones, a lot higher than your breasts themselves. It isn't until you have a mastectomy that you learn just how much of your upper torso is breast tissue. While I never had a big bust to begin with, the change still came as a bit of a shock. Eventually I adjusted and became used to my new, ever changing body. It wasn't long before I had nick named the foobs and began cracking jokes about them often refering to them as "my new bar tricks". I was always proud to talk about the process and show them to others, strangers or not. How will awareness ever be raised in a society that is so quiet when it comes to such an issue?! A woman is still beautiful after a mastectomy. Breasts don't make a women who she is, and a mastectomy shouldn't leave her viewed as damanged, broken or less of a woman.

Over the weeks I slowly went through expansion, watching my body change with every fill and eventually I was so full my chest had become rock solid and uncomfortable. Having nice new memory gel implants are a nice change. They are just so soft! Dr Hagarty noticed that I still have quite a bit of swelling and what looks like a small blood pocket on the right side, which is normal for the amount of work that took place. She explained a bit more of what she did during my exchange and explained why I have the level of pain I am feeling. She said usually the exhange surgery is a lot easier, and recovery isn't too painful. Except my exchange came with a lot of revision which is making my recovery a bit more than I anticipated. Usually it is a quick swap, out with the old and in with the new sort of thing. My right side needed to be moved up over to create an even, natural looking appearance. Women don't normally have one breast in front and the other hanging out over in their armpit haha. These revisions involved a lot of internal suture work to my pec muscles. She wanted to be sure to provide me with the best symmetry she could. She also explained that younger women have a harder time with pain during this recovery because our nerves are more active and fire at a faster rate allowing us to feel more pain. Interesting!!!

Aside from the pain and swelling I am healing beautifully. Dr Hagarty is very pleased with her newest works of art. I caught my nurse staring at them while I sat there topless. She nodded, smiled, and told me that they look great. This is the same nurse that had sent me home in tears without expansion, week after week because my skin was so thin and my body had a hard time healing. It made us all smile to look back and reflect on the journey and how far they have come in the past few months, and just how far I have come. I have grown very attached to everyone in the office. They have all impacted my life in more ways than they will ever know.

I have been given the ok to return back to work next week. I am to mind my 5lb weight limit and stay away from any pushing/pulling/reaching motions as these can damage my healing muscles and tear the very suture lines that are holding my implants in place. Because of the swelling I have to continue to bind myself in the ace bandage over my underwire bra for another week. I will continue to wear an underwire bra 24/7 and follow my list of restrictions for the next 5 weeks until the capsule is fully formed around the implant providing it with the support it needs. I will meet with Dr Hagarty again in 2 weeks to check on my progress. I'm almost there.