Where do I go when there's nobody else to turn to? Who do I talk to when nobody wants to listen? Who do I lean on when my foundation of life is crumbling? I'm Lindsay Hill, and I'm sinking fast. My husband of eight years is in harm's way, fighting a war in Iraq; my three children rely on me to be mother and father, and the doctor says, "Mrs. Hill, we found cancer." This feeling is unfamiliar to me. My hands are cold, palms are sweating, head thumping, heart racing, and I can't breathe. It's fear, and I know it is, and it's lurking around every corner. It has me trapped. I'm scared to go to sleep, and I'm scared to wake up. The ground all around me is sinking, about to swallow me up. All I did was wake up one day. I am under attack, and I can't see the attacker. He is everywhere, and I feel him getting closer. I smell him. It's the smell of hatred. No! It's the smell of death. I can't give up. I can't let him catch me. He is after me, and he wants me dead. Read about Lindsay's journey and how she travels the only road available to her.