Hello Susan,

We met just for a few minutes last summer.I did not know why you were dressed as you were and you did not say.But you made an impression on me. You bring cheer to the people you touch.

I moved to Everett last year for my work.I am a long way from home and friends and family. It has been all work and no play for to long. But on a sunny day I got away after work and got to meet Wonder Woman.

It does sound silly I know but when I remember that day I still smile. That’s why I do it!

Today at home I somehow came across your blog. Susan I feel that you are an amazing woman\person. I now understand why you were out dressed as Wonder Woman that day.It is really a no brainer.

Susan thank you for spreading the sunshine.I wish you all the best in life and pray for your health.

Your friend,

CLC

Thank you Chris!  Spread the sunshine with me!  Funny, I changed my Facebook profile picture today to a very happy sunshine

Today, I’m so thankful to you, and you, and you. Yes, I loved you with all my heart…for a long time. You taught me so much about myself. Yes, there were good times, but what I’m choosing to see today are all the ways you treated me that made me sad. The many times I cried. I don’t know why I believed I deserved to be treated unfairly. It was familiar. Not comfortable, but familiar. For so long, it was all I knew. I didn’t know there were men who were different from you. Had you not kicked me out when I started to recognize I deserved better, or moved out of state when the cancer got bad, or threatened me, because you could, I wouldn’t have known. I held onto the hurt for so long. Not something I would recommend, because holding it in probably contributed to the cancer. You taught me so much about how I don’t want to be treated. I built a wall to keep men away from me. It worked for a long time, but then…somehow, my wall got a crack in it.

Something changed. Maybe because I never wanted to be in another relationship. Maybe because I quit looking. I didn’t think it was possible to spend time with a man and actually enjoy it. Without going into details you don’t need, I have amazing men in my life. I’m developing friendships I never thought were possible. They’re showing me that I’m so much more valuable than you ever wanted me to know. They hold me accountable. They make me smile. They make me laugh. Maybe someday it will be more, but regardless, I love them!

Thank you! I love my life!

Love, gratitude and blessings

Susan

My friend Dan took me to see TSO several years ago. The cancer was in my liver, lymphatic system, all over my skin and a new lump in my head had recently appeared. The perfect Christmas present for me! I loved the concert! So many things went through my head. Good and bad. My dad died from kidney cancer in 1998, 5 months after his diagnosis. I was closer to my family than most people I know, but didn’t want them to see me as sick as I was. I wanted people to remember me healthy, not sick and dying. I wasn’t working, so I didn’t have the money to go to Dallas for Christmas anyway. Even now, when I hear their song “She’s coming home” I relate it to dying, not going home to see family.

As I listen to the cd now, I’m not thinking about the music, the lazers, the explosions, the dancing… I’m thinking about how bad I wanted to be able to take Cameron to a TSO concert. There wouldn’t be another one for a year. The doctors said I wouldn’t make it a year. The statistics showed nobody else had made it a year. I cried throughout the concert, thinking about all the things I would never do with Cameron.

BUL*SH*T! I changed what I was thinking. I pretended the energy and power from the music was healing my body. I believed I was the only one who could determine my expiration date! The concert made me feel good. I thought about good times I had with my family and my dad when he was still alive. I was going to keep doing the things I was doing to attempt to get well. My new goal was to still be alive and take Cameron to the concert the following year. I didn’t have to know how it would happen, I just had to believe it would and do everything in my power to make it happen.

Yes, the following November, I was still alive. The cancer was still alive too. Even though it was several years past the expiration date I was given, I still had the thoughts in my head that I couldn’t make plans more than 3 months out. I felt like taking Cameron to the concert would be something he would remember for the rest of his life. I couldn’t think of anything else that would be as memorable as being silly “headbanging” with mom at TSO.

Apparently I just needed to write and cry. All better now Once again, excited about the concert this Saturday! I can’t wait. I’m alive and well, cancer or not…doesn’t matter. I love my life! I do things that make me happy and have fun every day!

I got a message this morning that a friend of a friend has terminal cancer. Welcome to my world. Hey, my world isn’t so bad! As I’ve said before, terminal only means your doctor’s knowledge and ability to help you has been terminated. It’s rare that any problem only has one solution. And there’s a solution to every problem. As bad as it’s been, the cancer has taught me some of the most powerful lessons! Find the blessings in everything!

Love, Gratitude and Blessings

Susan

Anyway, there are times when she flips out.  Then she  cries, not understanding why she did it. I did that way more than anyone should – back when the cancer was taking over, but I didn’t know it yet.  My anger was usually directed at my dog, then I would cry and lay on the floor with her as she would lick the tears and snot off my face.  She was so forgiving.

I didn’t know that anger issues could be related to the liver. The terminal diagnosis made the anger worse, but at that point, I understood. I took out a few bushes and trees in my yard with an ax. I went to the gym for intense workouts when I felt the anger and frustration brewing. Aside from that, I began detoxing my body. Angry, screaming Susan wasn’t who I wanted to be.

Everything we put in or on our bodies has to be processed by our livers. If the filter is dirty, it can’t do its job. Unlike changing the air filter in the car or furnace, we have to clean ours without taking it out.

How do you clean a filter without taking it out? I would love for it to be magic and simply change a thought and have it cleaned, but it didn’t work like that for me. It has been a long, but simple process. I have found Gerson Coffee enemas to be the most effective at flushing stuff out of the liver. Stuff, it’s a technical term… The Gerson clinic recommends their patients do 3 a day for 5 years. See, told you it’s a long process. Most people die when cancer is residing in their liver. I wasn’t interested in that yet. I’ve never done 3/day, but I am in my 5^th year of at least 1, 5 days a week. My demeanor is very different than it was 5 years ago.

Aside from flushing the stuff out, everything we breathe, eat, drink, inject (flu shots, vaccines…any drugs), put on our skin (our skin absorbs more stuff, that’s why nicotine and birth control patches work) has to be processed by the liver.

At home, I have air filters, shower filters – in a 10 minute shower, your skin absorbs chlorine equivalent to drinking 6-8 glasses of chlorinated water, and your lungs absorb up to 100 times that in the form of chlorine gas if the shower is as hot as I like it. $40/year for a shower filter is worth it to me.

If I can’t eat something, I don’t put it on my skin. I use organic coconut oil for moisturizing my skin. It feels great and it tastes great too, but that’s a different subject.

I eat mostly raw organic foods but some cooked foods.

There are always going to be things I can’t control. I don’t worry about those things. I do however, concern myself with the things I can control. Everything I eat or drink is a simple decision. It’s always my choice…except when I was passed out from low blood sugar and had sugar injected into me. But aside from that, most of our choices are ours to make.

How powerful to know that each decision, or lack of, is mine to choose. I get to decide every waking moment if I want to make my life better…or not.

The quality of what we put out is determined by the quality of what we put in.

Love, gratitude and blessings,

Susan

Fellow crime fighters in Seattle

I was unsuccessful at getting the day off, so I convinced myself I didn’t want to go anyway. Just for the heck of it, I asked my supervisor if I could have my last 4 hours off. A few minutes later, she sent me a message saying my 4 hours off was approved. Now, I could still make it to Seafair before everyone left. Cameron said he didn’t want to go until I texted him and told him I was wearing my WonderWoman outfit. He has observed people watching me since I started wearing it, back when he was in kindergarten. He loves seeing the smiles, laughter and hugging. A few years ago he even asked me to help him make a “FREE HUGS” sign. He took it to the Lighthouse Festival both of the last 2 years and hugged hundreds of people. He understands how good it feels to contribute to joy and happiness. Even the people who think it’s weird tell other people what they saw. I create communication. It makes people question…? Lots of things happened at Seafair. Mostly good, but some had me questioning things myself. Usually I don’t care when people criticize me. For whatever reason, it bothered me when one person put me down. It wasn’t until I looked back and realized she was condescending to everyone around, that I was more sad for her than I was upset.

Most people have fun when my WonderWoman self shows up to their party. Few know what I’m dealing with. I don’t know why I tell the people I do, but sometimes feel like whoever I’m talking to needs to know I’ve had terminal cancer for 7 ½ years. People need to know a terminal diagnosis only means the doctor’s knowledge has been terminated. Nobody has the right to tell me when my expiration date is. I don’t go by statistics. My belief system is bigger than that!

Love, gratitude and blessings

Susan

Love, gratitude and blessings

Susan

I met Chris Bonneau at the Hospital Santa Monica in Rosarito, Baja, Mexico in August 2006. Aside from myself, he was the only person I knew who was alive with metastatic melanoma. I have become instant friends with most of the other patients I’ve met when I’m at the hospital in Mexico. We’re there for the same reason…using mostly alternative treatments in an attempt to beat the “terminal” cancers we’ve been told at home -nothing could be done for. Chris was even more special. We were fighting the same cancer. We made an agreement that we were going to beat it. I came back to Washington. He went home to Calgary, Alberta. We stayed in contact sending funny emails for a while, then updated each other through personal emails a few times a year. Chris loved motocross. It was inspiring to hear him talk about it. Chris has been my main inspiration. I thought if he could do it, I could do it.

So many times, unless we know someone else has done something, we have a tendency to believe it’s not possible. You’ve heard me say before, 99.6% of recurrent metastatic melanoma patients are dead within a year. Chris was still alive, so I decided to follow his statistics rather than that of the medical community. I assumed he had gotten busy with teaching/riding motocross as I’ve gotten busy with my job and my adventures. I haven’t talked to him in a while.

Tonight, I opened an email from his wife Anne. Chris lost his fight last week. I started yelling and swearing as soon as I saw the subject line. The difficulty breathing and swallowing from crying started a few seconds later. My eyes are so swollen I’m having a hard time typing this. Anne is probably doing the same thing right now. I wish we could cry together, even though I’ve never met her.  I know she will miss him dearly. He was an amazing man. He fought hard.

I have people tell me all the time “you’re so strong”. Most people have no idea how hard this ride has been. I show the world my happy face. I continue to get in the hyperbaric chamber 5 hours a week, 2 Gerson coffee enemas 4-6 days a week, saunas, ozonated water, hot/cold showers, full body vibration, massage, green smoothies and veggie juices…my kitchen counter is covered with supplements… I exercise daily and eat a mostly raw diet. I’m sure there are things I’ve forgotten, because they’re just part of my life. Oil pulling, kombucha, foot zone, chiropractic, physical therapy, Nikken magnetic mattress, water filters on showers and drinking water. See. I’ll remember more later too. The things I do that some people see as a luxury, are necessary for my survival.

I don’t know what’s upsetting me the most about Chris’s death. I know he’s no longer suffering. I’m scared. I just made a comment yesterday on facebook that the amount of cancer I’m dealing with now would freak most people out, but it’s minuscule to what it was. Anne made a similar comment about how they felt when Chris found out he had another tumor in his brain. Got past it before, I’ll do it again. I thought Chris and I would go to each others 100^th birthday parties.

To say I’m not afraid would be reckless. Fear can be a healthy thing. We inherently know to be afraid of gravity when we’re high above the ground. Looking that fear in the face and jumping out of a plane is exhilarating though! Knowing the potential power of the cancer keeps me diligently doing my treatments. I also greatly benefit because the treatments I do make me feel great too. I’m actually healthier because of the fear I have of the cancer.

Thank you Chris for being my inspiration. Thank you for allowing me to believe that since you were doing it, I could too. Thank you for following your dreams and doing what you loved to do for work. Thank you for being a great husband and father to your family.

I’ll carry on. I’ll be the melanoma maverick. The lone dissenter, proving the medical statistics wrong, making my own. I am strong.

Love, gratitude and blessings!

Susan

Anne is having the celebration of Chris’s life at Blackfoot Park, the only off road motocross park near Calgary. I know he will be there! I love you Chris, you will be greatly missed by many!

When tomorrow starts without me

And I’m not there to see;
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me.
I wish so much you wouldn’t cry
The way you did today;
While thinking of the many things

We didn’t get to say.

I know how much you love me

As much as I love you;

And each time that you think of me,

I know you’ll miss me too.

But when tomorrow starts without me

Please try to understand,

That an angel came and called my name

And took me by the hand.

She said my place was ready

In heaven far above;

And that I’d have to leave behind,

All those I dearly love.

But as I turned to walk away,

A tear fell from my eye;

For all my life, I’d always thought

I didn’t want to die.

I had so much to live for,

So much yet to do;

It seemed almost impossible,

That I was leaving you.

I thought of all the yesterdays,

The good ones and the bad;

I thought of all the love we shared,

And all the fun we had.

If I could relive yesterday

Just even for awhile,

I’d say goodbye and kiss you

And maybe see you smile.

But then I fully realized

That this could never be;

For emptiness and memories

Would take the place of me.

And when I thought of worldly things

I might miss come tomorrow;

I thought of you, and when I did,

My heart was filled with sorrow.

But when I walked through heaven’s gates

I felt so much at home;

When God looked down and smiled at me

From His great golden throne.

He said, “This is eternity

And all I’ve promised you;

Today your life on earth is past,

But here it all starts anew.”

“I promise no tomorrow,

But today will always last;

And since each day’s the same day,

There’s no longing for the past.”

“But you have been so faithful,

So trusting and so true;

Though at times you did do things,

You knew you shouldn’t do.”

“But you have been forgiven

And now at last you’re free;

So won’t you take my hand

And share my life with me?”

So when tomorrow starts without me,

Don’t think we’re far apart

For every time you think of me,

I’m right here in your heart.

I had tears streaming down my face as she read it.  I don’t know how she did it.  To his day, I still can’t read it without crying.  That’s not my idea of heaven.   Nobody knows which tomorrow will start without them unless they take control of that themselves.  Regardless of the relationship, I try to make things right by the end of each day.  There are people who refuse to let things go and I can’t help that.  Someday will start without me.  I don’t expect that to be soon. 

“Memories would take the place of me”

What memories do I want people to have of me?  I want people to smile or laugh when they think of me… I want to inspire people to do more with their lives.  I want people to love the people in their circle more, and expand that circle.  I want people to find things to be happy about. 

So, what does this have to do with my speech?  I don’t have a clue.  I’ve read the poem several times this morning.  I haven’t done it without crying.  I’m pretty sure it’s not possible.  I need to get my intro and title to the Toastmaster soon.  Wish me luck.  I love you all!

Love, gratitude and blessings, 

Susan

     A few weeks ago, a friend asked me if I knew where she could get rid of a large quantity of shotgun ammunition.  I know lots of people who shoot on a regular basis.  I didn’t know my roommate had a shotgun, otherwise I would have probably kept it for him.  A few people came to mind, but since my phone died and I lost most of my contacts, I didn’t have many phone numbers.  I texted a friend who said he would take it.  I didn’t ask anyone else.  It was a lot more than I thought it was.  We met and I gave it to him later the same day I got it.  I was just making a connection. One friend was thrilled to get rid of stuff before moving and the other will be able to use it.  Not a big deal. 

I think I was probably more excited that he gave Buddy a tennis ball.  He threw the ball and Buddy chased, got it and brought it back.  It was the first time Buddy had ever played with a ball, other than taking them away from other dogs at the dog park.  Buddy still carries the tennis ball and leaves it in different parts of the house.  He will toss the ball for himself and go get it, like it’s alive and he’s playing before he kills it. I love to watch Buddy play!  For anyone who doesn’t know, Buddy is my German shepherd mix we rescued from a shelter last year.  He is very shy and acts like he was physically abused.  He’s slowly adjusting.

     Maybe because I think about the tennis ball friend when I see the bright yellow ball peeking out from under Buddy’s bed, or when I tripped on it and fell down the stairs (not really, I only missed one step)… but last week I had been given an abundance of something else.  I texted him and asked if he wanted some.  I’m not trying to give away crap, so of course the answer was yes.  I also gave some of my loot to 4 other people.

Back to yesterday…I met him to give him his prize.  He asked “Why are you being so nice to me?”  Half joking, I told him because nobody else will talk to me.  I think a lot of people go through life not speaking to other people unless they have to.  I’ve been told I talk to too many people.  I got the gift of gab from my dad…and his mom…my kid got it from all of us!

     It got me thinking…”why are you being so nice to me?”  Why wouldn’t I be nice to him?  It’s not like he left my toilet seat up and snored all night and kept me awake.  That would’ve brought a different response.  Why am I nice to anyone?  Maybe I’m being selfish, because I believe what goes around, comes around.  How I treat others will be how they treat me.  Maybe the good comes from somewhere else.  I listen.  If I have information someone needs, I pass it along.  If I have something I don’t want that someone else needs, I give it to them.  Making connections has the potential to help everyone involved.  It makes people happy.  I was the same way before I got sick, but I think cancer has made me see things more differently than others see the same things.  Life is short…A phrase that means a lot more when you have a terminal diagnosis.  Aside from my belief that I’m going to live past 140, (active and healthy) there’s always the possibility of something happening to someone else.  My goal is to leave people better than before I was there.  It doesn’t always happen. I don’t always remember.  Most of the time I think I’m successful at it.  A simple smile.  “Hello”. Letting a homeless man and his dog move in for 8 months…Wait, no, that was a cancer decision.  It turned out to be a good one, but not something I would recommend.  Talk about changing someone’s life!     A story for another day. 

Love, gratitude and blessings, Susan