Susan WonderStone's Blog

Another World?
January 31, 2017, 7:52 pm
Filed under: ASEA, Breast implant illness, Wiener Friendly Soap

Saturday, I went to an ASEA meeting in Gig Harbor. GPS said 69 miles. I wasn’t sure if my car would go that far, but my friend had flown in from North Carolina, so I had to try. I did some of my cancer treatments in the morning before I left, but ran out of time and even forgot to take my supplements. I was asked to give my ASEA testimonial and realized when I was doing it that I was shaking. I hadn’t eaten enough. I love the way I feel on my diet, until my blood sugar starts to drop. At the break, I went out to my car and ate a few handfuls of nuts to hopefully prevent it from dropping more.For the most part, it worked. As I was leaving the meeting, I kept thinking I was forgetting something. I checked my bag, my wallet, phone, water bottle, coat…everything was there.

The road to get back to I-5, is a toll road. My options were to pay $6 or to drive north and take a ferry across the water for $8. I chose the toll road and felt like I had gone thru into another dimension as I crossed the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. I thought about the YouTube video I had seen about the collapse of the same bridge, they named “Galloping Gertie”, on November 7, 1940.

My imaginary friend took the pictures as I drove. On the picture with the bridge in front of me, Mount Rainier is off to the left in the distance. It seemed so much bigger than the picture shows. Immediately, I had thoughts of climbing it. Because of the mold toxicity from the implants, I don’t see it happening this year, but my intent is to stay on my supplements, diet and other protocol to eliminate the mold, biotoxin and silicone toxicity and get my cardio vascular system working the way it’s supposed to again! I now have “Summit Mount Rainier” on my goal list for next year.  There were strange looking clouds north of the mountain, that kind of looked like hot air balloons. Once I got onto I-5, the clouds appeared even larger. I have seen similar clouds that seem to sit on top of Rainier, almost like a hat, but never 2 of them, away from the mountain.


I imagined they were cloaking devices for alien spaceships. What else was I going to think about. I’m driving a 95 4-Runner with the original parts. The cassette player quit working years ago and there’s a cd stuck in the cd player and won’t play either. Every radio station on my pre-sets was chatter or commercials. I should know better than to let my imagination go! Remember, what you think about, you bring about!

Before I got to Seattle, traffic was awful!  I decided to get off the freeway and take a back road adventure, not knowing exactly how to do it. I had a general idea and my internal gps works pretty well. My intention was to get to a bridge I’ve seen people taking sunset pictures from and to get another picture of Mount Rainier. As I arrived at the first stop light, I was in the left of a double turn lane. A gold 1978 Caprice Classic pulled up beside me. My mom drove one. The original color was tan. I don’t remember seeing sparkly gold ones back then.  The driver had giant bug eyes and kept jerking his head around, as if he was looking for someone who was after him.He had his phone in his hand. It appeared that not only was he terrified, but on some heavy duty drugs I’ve never been around.  I looked in my rear view mirror, then my side mirrors, first looking for a police car, then wondered if bullets would start flying. When I didn’t see anything, I wondered if there were dementors flying around that I couldn’t see. Maybe the grim reaper was after him. As soon as the light changed, he tried to go faster than the car in front of him. When it appeared he was going to try to fit his car between mine and the car in front of him, I slowed down and let him in.He was jerking his car all over, but managing to stay in his lane. I was so intent on not getting hit, I didn’t even think to get his plate. The next stop light was red. A couple and a little boy, about 4 years old on his bike, were about to go into the intersection. The man grabbed the seat of the bicycle as the bug eyed driver of the Caprice Classic swerved his way across the intersection, missing cars driving on the cross street. I was so thankful nobody got hit!  I decided to turn, so I wouldn’t be near him or whoever was after him. About 3 minutes later, I made it to the bridge I was trying to get to. I couldn’t park on the bridge, so turned to look for parking. There was a skinny guy wearing an orange construction vest over his clothes, dancing on the corner. As I turned, I looked at him. His skin was the color of hot chocolate with extra milk. His eyes were a really pale blue with almost no pupils showing.He was staring at me, so I waved as I turned. He kept dancing with his eyes following me. He reminded me of a vampire I saw on a movie. There weren’t any parking spots on that street, but I also didn’t really want to walk past him. I was still curious, wondering if he really looked like what I thought I saw, so I turned around and drove by again. I drove slow as I approached the corner. He stared at me. I  wasn’t scared, but he looked exactly like I saw before. Was he wearing contacts? I had never seen eyes like that.Where was I?

Once across the bridge, I found myself in Chinatown. There are street signs with our letters, but another language’s words. I parked and walked onto the bridge for my pictures.  I saw a heavyset guy on the other side of the street, carrying a Rastafarian colored blanket and what appeared to be brightly colored wooden toys he may have been selling. I stopped to take pictures about halfway across the bridge of the view on my side.


Traffic on I-90 and I-5 sucked!  I knew I would find another way to go home. I took a picture of the stadiums, then looked around to stay aware of my surroundings. The Rasta guy was gone. I felt like I had only taken about 10 seconds to look at the traffic and take the picture. He wasn’t on the bridge and I didn’t see him on either side. More and more, I kept feeling like I was on another planet or some alternate reality. I turned around to see the Seattle skyline.


After taking the picture, I saw movement down on the hill below. There were fences built last year around the area to keep the homeless people out of there, but I was seeing someone inside of a small shelter made with supports, a tarp, other stuff and a roof, but open on 2 sides. It reminded me of my friend I took in, back in 2008, who was homeless when I met him. It was about 45 degrees outside. I stopped taking pictures because it looked like he was looking at me and I didn’t want him to think I was taking pictures of him inside his “house”. I thought about how cold I would be if I stood still for any length of time. I looked again and wondered what he was wearing that was that color. I realized in a split second that he was naked. I don’t know if the show was for me, but I was quickly reminded of Glenda the 911 dispatcher who entered an animal control call when someone called in reporting a guy choking his chicken in public. I’ve never seen a man do it like that! His chicken looked like it was already dead, limp and lifeless, as he jerked it so fast and furious, I thought he was going to rip it off. Yes, by then I was staring. “Buddyyyyyyyyy, you’re gonna hurt yourself!’ I said, out loud. I had a jar of Wiener Friendly Lube in my pocket. I thought about throwing it to him, but didn’t want him to think I was throwing something at him, nor anyone else to think I was littering. I scanned the area, wondering if there was a break in the fence somewhere I could get closer to give it to him.

I remembered a 911 call I took years ago when the female caller was telling me her boyfriend, who had just beat her up, ran away naked. She explained that he gets hot when he’s high on meth and takes his clothes off. She also told me that he can’t get a hard on when he’s high on meth and that she keeps him around because he’s the best she’s ever had at going down on her.  I quickly realized I should stay away from the naked guy choking his chicken and started walking back to my car.

As I was almost off of the bridge, a couple was walking on the sidewalk toward me. They both had brightly colored hair. The guy had giant gauge piercings in his ears and his bottom lip. It looked like he should be in a tribal picture in national geographic, except as I got closer, he was also covered in tattoos. I said “hi” as I passed them and he started making grunting noises like he was a pig. Where was I?

The rest of the ride home was just driving in traffic with a pit stop to pee. At no point did I feel really scared or threatened, just weirded out. It took me 3 hours total to get home with my stops. It was by far, the weirdest hour I’ve had in a long, long time. I realized about 5 hours after I got home that what I was forgetting was that I was supposed to meet with a friend in Tacoma. I wonder if any of it would have happened if I had gone to see her. I wonder what kind of adventure I would’ve had on the ferry?! There are interesting things all around us if we just look!

Love, gratitude and blessings


Blurred lines

It’s Christmas Eve. It would be mom and dad’s 56th wedding anniversary if dad hadn’t died 18 years ago. It would be an anniversary for me too, but all I want to say about that is don’t ever make big days on holidays! It has the potential of really f’ing up what could be a great holiday! It doesn’t bother me anymore, but for some people, that kind of crap can last a lifetime. On that, I’m at home, almost alone. I was going to go to “the Lighthouse” with the kids, but felt like I needed to get things done at home. They’re on their way home and I’ve accomplished very little of what I was going to do. I have however been busy doing what apparently needed to be done. Still tired from a workout on Tuesday and working long retail days, I decided to do a third coffee enema, in hopes it would give me the energy I needed to attack my chores. I fell asleep on the floor, with a quart of coffee hanging out in my colon. I’m thankful it mostly stayed there! To clarify “mostly”, it didn’t spill, but most of it got absorbed by my healthy, functioning colon. When I woke up, I had to pee so bad I nearly pee’d on the floor. I love how well certain parts of my body work!


I came downstairs to get started on my chores and Lucy kept following me and laying down within inches of where I was standing. It took a few times of her doing that for me to realize she was hungry. So was I. I made one of our favorite cooked meals of fried onions, mushrooms, burger, avocado mayo and brussel sprouts. She skips the onions and mushrooms. As I ate, I thought about how tired I’ve been lately. On March 18, when I came out of explant surgery, I asked my doctor if they put vaseline in my eyes. She said they hadn’t.  My right eye was so blurry I couldn’t see out of it. Part of it got better over the next few days, but I’ve had a strip in my vision that’s been blurry ever since. I have floaters in both eyes. Since surgery, I’ve done many things to detox my body from the silicone toxicity, mold and biotoxins that are commonly found in women with breast implants. When I had my live blood cell analysis last year, it showed high levels of mold, but at that time, I had no idea it could be from the implants. A few months ago, I could’ve accidentally killed myself taking oregano oil to kill the mold without realizing it also drops blood sugar. I was thankful I knew enough to check my blood sugar before I went to bed. It had already dropped to 60. I’m also on week 6 of a 12 week parasite, yeast, fungus cleanse. It should be helping! I remembered a vision test that’s supposed to tell if there are deeper problems than just vision. I found it online and decided to take it.

It’s called a Visual Contrast Sensitivity Test.

I did the calibration, getting out the measuring tape to make sure I did it right without cheating. I covered my right eye and started the test. WTF?!! The beginning few on each test were visible, but the last few, I couldn’t see the circle, much less the direction of the lines within it. I took my glasses off and leaned in to cheat. Nothing. No difference. I couldn’t see any contrast, the circle or the lines. I tried to convince myself the test was messing with me and would show at the end that there wasn’t contrast on them. I completed the left eye, then switched to the right. Same thing. No contrast on the last 3-4 of each section. How could I be doing everything I’m doing and still have biotoxins not only affecting my vision, but also my memory, thought processes and who knows what else?! I started crying before I got the results. Once I saw the charts and read through my results, I cried more. I kept crying to the point I could no longer see the computer screen.

The kids called and asked if we wanted to meet them. Lucy and I left and walked with the entire pack in the woods for over an hour. It’s 1:11 on Christmas Day. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! It was one of the most exciting night hikes in a long time! Maybe I’ll tell you about that another time.

Apparently I just needed to cry. I know I’m not done yet. Every day, I pretend I’m healthier than I am. Every day, I allow others to think I’m healthier than I am. Everyone has cancer cells in their bodies, I just have a few who are as stubborn as I am and just refuse to die. Knowing that, eliminating ALL of the cancer probably won’t ever happen. Getting it down to a level where my healthy cells can help the stubborn ones transition makes more sense. It’s the same with the mold, the biotoxins and the silicone.  I know that our bodies make glutathione to detox crap out and ASEA increases glutathione levels 500-800%. I’ll keep doing what I do, drink more ASEA and just be happy. My ultimate goal is to be happy. The more things I can do to make myself happy, the happier all of my beautiful cells will be! The happier we are, the happier everything in and around us is too!

Do something to make yourself happy today and every day!

Love, gratitude and blessings!

Merry Christmas!


Lose Weight With ASEA

Lose Weight With ASEA

Today is the first day of my goal to compete again. 25 weeks until I’m on stage in a posing suit that takes about 6 inches of fabric to make. Even less, now that my breast implants live in plastic containers on the shelf and not in my chest. I haven’t competed since 2010. For years, I’ve said I would never compete again. Something shifted last week and apparently it’s time. This is my “before” picture with clothes.


I haven’t decided if I want to share a picture with fewer clothes. I know we all want to see the real before/afters, but I’m not sure I want to see it on my phone, much less on the computer screen. Don’t get me wrong, I love my body!  I also know I’ll want to see photos when it’s in better shape! I guess it’s time to look in the mirror and remind myself that I completely love and accept myself, just the way I am. Funny how things reveal themselves when I least expect them to. Plus, I don’t like selfie pics with the camera and flash in the mirror. It makes me feel like I don’t have any friends who could take it for me.

I need to find my body fat calipers to find out where I’m at. Before getting pregnant, I competed at 130 pounds. While I was pregnant with Cameron, I took advantage of the crazy hormones and put on about 20 pounds of muscle. I gained 80 total, which was totally unnecessary, but back then, I gave in to juicy juice and tillamook sharp cheddar.  Over the years, I competed heavier. Once, I weighed in at 172. I only went to the show to support my husband at the time. On the way, we agreed to do mixed pairs to practice for another show that was coming up. Elaine, one of the promoters, talked me into competing in the open women’s division too, because there weren’t enough competitors. I ended up winning and feeling bad that I beat the woman who wanted so bad to win the weight class so she could go to nationals. I’ve been on both sides.

This morning, I got on the scale. I’ve never cared about my weight as long as I like the way I look naked.  Hmmmm…..
What weight will I compete at? How will I do cardio since I’m having difficulty breathing when I’m not doing anything strenuous? I treated the owie (undiagnosed melanoma because I’m stubborn and won’t go to my doctor) on  my chest again.  It feels like it has a web wrapped around my lungs that’s tightening at random times.



I’ve never lost weight on my modified ketogenic diet. Maybe because sometimes around midnight, I check and my blood sugar is under 70. Not knowing how much it drops at night with so many possible variables, I eat, just in case.  I’ll put 6 eggs in the blender, then add 1/3 cup coconut oil, 1 can of coconut milk, 1T raw cacao, 6 drops of vanilla stevia and sunflower lecithin.I’ve never done the math, but it’s gotta be over 1,000 calories.Oh shit! I did the math and it’s over 2,000 calories. I don’t usually finish it, but still! No wonder I’m 180 pounds!  Or cinnamon nuts…or raw cacao mixed with raw almond butter and coconut oil. YUM!! Now that I have my goal, I will eat more plain coconut oil earlier in the evening and hopefully, that will keep my blood sugar stable.

I’ve used ASEA for the health benefits since I started last year. There’s so much I didn’t know it was capable of helping!  Today, my sponsor Lourene, posted this video on YouTube. It’s about ASEA and weight loss. What a perfect time for me to realize that!

It’s actually talking about fat loss, not just weight loss. Anti-aging, athletic performance/recovery, health and wellness and weight loss!  I am so thankful ASEA found me!

25 weeks. Join me on your own 25 week journey. Let’s do this! Follow along here or call to see if we are a coaching match. 425-347-1424 Pacific

Love, gratitude and blessings



Are you in?
November 5, 2016, 12:54 am
Filed under: ASEA, coaching, fitness, Gratitude, Inspiration

img_0179One of my mentors recently said “Bite off more than you can chew and chew the hell out of it.” My thoughts are “Bite off more than I can chew and just keep chewing, just keep chewing”. Then I hear Dori singing “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.”

Its been awhile since I’ve set any big goals, other than waking up tomorrow. I hope it doesn’t take a terminal diagnosis to make you appreciate waking up every day! I’ve been relatively happy when I wake up, most of my life, but it escalates every time things have gotten bad and I didn’t know if I’d make it thru the night.

One of my coworkers posted a thanks and plank challenge on facebook. “I’m in!” Immediately after typing it, I wondered what I was getting myself into. 30 days of thanks and planks. Great for the first week! By day 30,  it’s a 5 minute plank! Is that even possible? What (tf) are we trying to prove here?! I work with mostly physically fit people, so it’s a challenge I accepted and I’m going to meet! I love the competition!

On Halloween, a friend changed her profile picture to a picture of the 2 of us when we were at a bodybuilding competition. I was helping the competitors and she was the guest poser. It got me thinking about competing. I wondered why I stopped, even though I loved it. Then I remembered the cancer that was trying to take over my body for the last 12+ years. I did compete several times with active cancer, but it was a competition for myself more than competing against others. I let it get to me when 2 guys I knew from the gym, told me I should be embarrassed that I wasn’t as competitive as I should be. It had always been my goal to win, but it turned into something to help me plan on being alive for.

Thanks and planks. Join me?! It’s a 30 day goal. You can do it! Catch up or start on day 1.

This next part is scary. I believe that if a goal doesn’t scare me, it’s not big enough. Over the next 25 weeks, aside from continuing to write my books, focusing on my coaching clients and speaking engagement(s) -(I’m expecting more than the only one currently on my calendar!) and continuing my daily cancer treatments, I will be training for another bodybuilding competition. I’ll decide after the first of the year what class I’ll compete in, but my training focus will be in bodybuilding.

I don’t have a posing suit. All the others fit the double D’s. 25 weeks from now, my cute little boobies might look like deflated balloons. They’ll still be cute to me!

I don’t have a gym membership.

I get winded walking up the stairs, how am I going to do cardio?

Being on my modified ketogenic diet for the cancer, how will I modify it to get me to my goal, while continuing to live?

How can I deplete my water at the end without causing a kidney problem?

Those are a few of the questions swirling through my head. I know I have the answers for all of them, I just don’t know what they are yet. It’s a big goal for me! It’s giving me something to live for, but I’m also training to be in the best shape of my life, so far!

Come on! You can do the plank challenge with me! I’m also challenging you to set a 25 week goal. Let’s achieve them together!

Love, gratitude and blessings



Black Salve, wool socks or plain old fear?

Go back to yesterday’s post to see some of the pictures I took on my Gothic Basin hike. Now, I’ll tell you about the spaces in between the photos. About a mile away from home, I realized my headlamp was in the backpack I took to Lake 22, two weeks ago. Jack and I decided we would make sure to be back at the car before it got dark. Being 4th of July weekend, we expected a lot of people to be on the trail. When we arrived, there were a lot of cars on the side of the road and in the parking lot across the street. I’ve always seen a lot of cars there and thought it was a crowded trail. As we got our things together and changed into our hiking layers, I realized the top of my hiking boots rubbed the tumor on my leg. I only walked in them for a minute before knowing I couldn’t hike in them. I’m thankful I had worn my low hiking boots in the car.

We only saw a few people on the first mile of gravel road that starts both the Gothic Basin and the Monte Cristo trails. They were all taking the Monte Cristo trail. We discovered later that most of the cars belonged to people on the Monte Cristo trail.  The gravel road ends, because the land slide took it out and dumped it and the hillside into the river. There are knocked down trees, gravel, rocks and boulders in places they weren’t before. (I know, having a preposition at the end of a sentence is grammatically incorrect, but that ‘s how I talk and that’s how I write.) I headed up the alternate route with three other hikers, while Jack climbed down the debris and took the shorter route thru the slide.

July 7th 2007, I broke my back in a skydiving accident. It was an L-1 burst fracture. My neurosurgeon said he had never seen an accident like mine without paralysis. I’m glad he didn’t tell me that until I was already walking again, unlike the nurses in the emergency room. He installed screws in T-12 and L-2 and flexible plastic rods to go around the burst fracture and allow me full range of motion. He had only used them one other time and had no idea how long they’d last or what kind of impact could break them. Anything that looks sketchy, I try to avoid, because I know if I break the rods, I’m not walking away from it. We met up with Jack on the other side of the slide. When we got to the Weeden Creek cut off that goes to Gothic Basin, we wished the other hikers well and started up the trail. About 30 minutes in, 2 women we had seen going to the trail from the parking lot were coming down the trail. They had asked us where the Monte Cristo trail was, but they turned when they should’ve gone straight. Monte Cristo has almost no elevation gain, but Gothic Basin goes up to 5,200 feet. Just a slight difference.

There was a lot of snow this year, so there are many creeks, rivers, waterfalls and snow still on the trail. I was wearing my waterproof Gore-tex surround La Sportiva low hiking boots, so walking thru small streams is easier than trying to jump across them. The roots and rocks on the trail were similar to most of the other trails we’ve hiked. When we got to the first waterfall and water crossing, I was intimidated. There were rocks in the water that looked like they could move. Before going down to the water, I looked for the trail on the other side. I saw it, but from where I was, couldn’t figure out how we’d get to it. I was watching my steps and missed watching Jack cross the rushing water and make his way to the trail on the other side. Sometimes watching someone do what I’m afraid to do is all I need to push myself to do it. I was more cautious than most. I thought about the rods in my back and if I slipped, how they could break. Knowing that an air lift and rescue out of there would be about $100,000 more than I currently have, I always do my best to avoid getting hurt.

About 5 years ago, I took a call from a man who was with his fiance on this mountain. He was calm, but his voice was shaking and he was sniffing. It sounded like he was crying. Cell service is usually non existent there, but he kept trying and got the call to go thru. They were snowshoeing and several feet of snow completely gave away and took her off the side of the cliff with it. He knew she was dead. I wondered if she felt like where she was at was a bad idea before she went over the edge.

The water was too deep to walk thru it without getting water over the top of my boots. Hiking in wet socks and boots sucks. I made it safely across the water, then realized the trail was about 6 feet higher than I was. There was no trail to get there from where I stood. Had I been by myself, this is where I would have turned around. I was scared. Climbing was the only way up. Jack reminded me how strong I am and helped me figure out where to put my hands and feet to get up. I was excited I did it! I had no idea this was the first of about a dozen similar crossings.

The trail seemed steeper than the trail report says it is. Probably  because I was scared, the tumor on my leg started throbbing. Occasionally, when I’d step on a rock a certain way, the tumor I thought was done and came out of the bottom of my foot 2 weeks ago, would send shooting pain up my leg, body and into my shoulder. Every time it happened, I wondered if continuing was a good idea. The trail report also says there are several rock scrambles. I’ve been on rock scrambles, but usually they’re a short portions of a hike. This was a lot more! Going up is a lot easier for me than going down, because of my creaky knees. Going up though, put my feet in positions they don’t normally go. Since my left foot and leg were letting me know they were unhappy with a significant amount of pain, I was putting my right foot into more undesirable positions and most of the impacts.

By the time we got to the widest water crossing, both feet were hurting a lot! My heavier boots probably would have been worse because they don’t bend enough for the scrambles. The crossing was about 20 feet wide. On the right, was a raging waterfall coming toward us. On the left, was probably a 1000 foot drop off about 5 feet from where I stood. There were 2 large boulders mostly out of the water and smaller rocks that were barely under the water. I was concerned the smaller rocks would move. Quick visions of falling in the water, twisting my ankle, smashing my face and falling over the waterfall flashed thru my head. I heard the crying man from the phone call. I wondered if his fiance felt the way I was feeling before she fell. I stood there, trying to figure out the safest way across. Nothing felt right. I made it across to the first boulder. Jack was on the other side, trying to convince me that I could do it. He came across to me and went back and forth a few times, showing me how easy it was. It was about 4 feet to the next boulder. I was trying to figure out if pushing off with my right foot and landing on my left foot, or the opposite was going to give me positive results without hurting my feet more than they already were. A man was coming down the trail. When I said hi to him, Jack went back across to get out of the way. The man crossed, then his 2 large dogs and next, his girlfriend. When she got to the boulder I was frozen on, I asked “Why am I so fucking scared to go across the water?! I jump out of airplanes and I’m too fucking scared to move!” I was almost in tears. She jumped back to the other boulder, reached out her hand and said “Grab my hand and I’ll help you.” I grabbed her hand and jumped as she pulled me over. With tears streaming down my face, I thanked her. She skipped across the rock and down the path they went. The next section was shallow and I knew if the rock path slipped, my feet would stay dry anyway.  I think the mental and emotional stress added to the physical pain in my feet and legs. On the good side, the throbbing in my left armpit that always escalated on hikes, has been completely gone since mid April, about a month after my explant surgery. At my appointment 2 weeks ago, I didn’t specifically ask my plastic surgeon what activities were okay for me. I’m not sure what she said, but I think she said “Don’t overdo it.” What does that mean anyway? In 1997, at my 6 week post op appointment for the removal of an abdominal ectopic pregnancy that was killing me (I was bleeding out from the blood vessels that had formed among all my abdominal organs up to my diaphragm.) my doctor said the same thing. I had a c-section incision that was still healing.  I asked her for clarification regarding weight lifting. She said if I could do 20 repetitions, I should be fine. My next workout, both my husband and my training partner saw me at the same time and both yelled across the gym “What are you doing?” I was on the leg press with 4 plates on each side. They both thought 360 pounds was too much too soon, but I was easily getting 20 reps, so I decided it was okay. That might have something to do with today’s creaky knees.

The trail was really tough for me. Jack said I looked like I was walking in slow motion. He called me a sloth. I laughed, but I was giving it everything I had. I felt like the energizer bunny just before the batteries die. I had looked at the time and based on when we got there, we needed to turn around by 6 pm in order to get back to the car before dark. Around 5:30, I told Jack to go on without me. I would either make it in time or turn around at 6 and he could catch up. He was carrying my water bottle, my ASEA and my Sunflower Milk, so he was kinda like the carrot with me being the donkey. Not an ass, a donkey. At the next water crossing, I thought about my first static line skydive. I froze in the door and couldn’t or wouldn’t grab the strut. My instructor pulled me back in the airplane and told me I had one more chance. I had missed my spot and wouldn’t have been able to get to the field I was supposed to land in. He said when it was time, I would have 3 seconds to make the decision and get out. If I didn’t, I would land with the pilot in the airplane and he would get out without me. After the pilot circled around, I got out when he said to. Now, I was staring at the rushing water and thought “You’re going to miss your spot” and carefully jumped to the boulder in the water. From then on, I would tell myself, every second counts, and quickly take action.

At 5:45, a couple was coming down the path. They told me they saw Jack. They saw how defeated I felt. They encouraged me to keep going. They said I only had to cross the 3 snow fields we could see and I’d be at the basin. I kept going. The first snow field had boot tracks in 2 different places. I took the higher route, hoping if I fell, I’d at least be able to stop myself from sliding down the hill in the boot steps of the lower track. There’s water flowing under the snow field, so the edges are more melty than the rest. I made it across two of the snow fields without incident. The third one went up, not across. On my second step, I slipped. I didn’t slide far, but clawed at the snow with my hands. I stayed there for several seconds, deciding on my next move. I gently, but quickly moved back to the side. Since I had been scrambling over rocks for the previous two hours, scrambling up the side seemed a lot more safe than attempting to climb up the snow. I made it! The jagged rocks lined the bowl named Gothic Basin. It was beautiful! I was so happy I made it to the top!

I found Jack and since it was 6:15, we started back down the trail. The wind blowing off of the snow was too cold for me.  I think it was purposely pushing, telling us it was time to head back. When I calculated our turnaround time, I didn’t take into account how difficult it would be for me to scramble down. Once we got away from the wind, I quickly changed into dry clothes and stuffed the sweaty ones in my pack. I drank most of my Sunflower Milk for energy on the way down. Very few pictures were taken. We knew we’d be hiking part of the trail in the dark. The crossings were easier with my quicker decisions and for whatever reason, I wasn’t afraid like I was on the way up. Could have been that magic cookie I ate that I found in my pack from last season.


On the way down, I was brave enough to climb up for the picture


Jack always seems to sneak in a butt picture I find once I get home.

Jack had a headlamp, but since I didn’t, he didn’t use his. It was quite dark for the last hour. I also forgot to calculate that we were walking under 100 foot trees and it would be darker than the same time at home. We made it to the gravel road at about 10:20pm. I was exhausted.

There were times on the way up that I was hard on myself, calling myself a wimp, a pussy and when the tears showed up, a fucking crybaby. I was frustrated that I thought everything would be perfect after my explant surgery. I thought my health would be perfect immediately after. It wasn’t. My lungs were having a hard time, my joints hurt, my back never went into spasm, but was more painful than it’s been in a long time and of course the tumor pain in my leg and foot and the pain in the right foot from the added work. With my eyes on the amazing sights, I realized the only way to get there was on foot. I wasn’t any of the names I had called myself. I was 3 1/2 months after a surgery with two – 7 inch scars. I was told 9 years ago I would never walk again after I broke my back. I was told I probably wouldn’t make it thru the summer when the melanoma spread to my liver and lymphatic system in 2004. I had an open active tumor on my leg and several that have come out of my skin and are healing since my surgery. There are so many people who will never attempt a hike like Gothic Basin. I definitely overdid it, but everything turned out okay. I’m taking care of myself, still doing my treatments and praising my accomplishments.

I don’t regret being hard on myself. It makes it easier to see the contrast.



The aftermath of Gothic Basin


More “stuff” came out of the hole during the hike. The gauze was saturated with sweat and ooze, leaving a cleaner hole than Jan 1 picture. There still appears to be more in there.



July 4. Swelling from the rash was worse. Hike day, I had gauze and tegaderm covering the owie. The line about an inch above the current bandage is where the bandage stopped and the rash began on the top. Around the owie itself, which was under the bandage, is more rash. There was no rash on my right leg, so it doesn’t make sense that it was the wool socks like someone suggested.



4th of July evening after work, while the masses watched and set off explosions, I sat on the couch. I was blaring music in an attempt to calm 2 big dogs and 2 cuddly cats (who are never all in the same room together), while cooking my left leg and right foot under the far infrared heat lamp.

Where are you? Where do you want to be? What are you willing to sacrifice to get there? What are you waiting for? Take your first step today. You’ll be glad you did!

Love, gratitude and blessings




Gothic Basin – 2 weeks and 2 days after black salve. I wouldn’t recommend it!

After I posted “Black Salve Results at 2 weeks” on July 1, a friend commented on the Facebook photo “That looks Brutal!” It was!

I responded “It’s making me sweaty and nauseous. When things get brutal, I show them what brutal is. Gothic Basin, here I come!” I’m not sure what I was thinking. I’ve been home 48 hours and I’m too tired to write. For now, enjoy the scenery. I’ll tell you all about it soon.  It’s not all rainbows and unicorns as the pictures might show. 

Happy Father’s Day, Lake 22 and Cancer

My friend wanted to go hiking today, since both of our dads died 17 years ago and neither of us would be celebrating Father’s Day. George, the tumor on my chest (remember, we named him), went away and will be remembered by the scar tissue left behind. I’m working on it with my lotions, potions and magic (or prayer if that’s what you call it). Soon it will only be a memory.

This week, I’ve been having a lot of pain from a tumor on the bottom of my left foot, which felt like it was traveling up my leg. I’ve had both of them before, but for whatever reason, they must be afraid they’re going to miss out on something and have come back a few times. Last week I applied blood root black salve to both of them. The one on my foot reacted, but barely. I applied it again the next day. It definitely hurt more!  On Wednesday, the pain was so intense, I was pale and sweaty and didn’t know if I was going to puke or pass out. The pain was bearable without my shoes on, so I ended up standing and working 7 hours in my socks.  I’ve been making a concoction of DMSO, Magnesium oil and Lugol’s iodine and putting it on the recent scars several times daily. I also put it on the spot on my leg that didn’t react. It started burning immediately. Yesterday, I decided to reapply black salve. I felt it reacting – tingling,  as I was trying to go to sleep. I used Emotional Freedom Technique tapping and the pain resided within a couple minutes. I was just as lucky when I woke up this morning, except it looked awful!

Left Foot Owie

I decided I would try the hike. My friend knew about my explant surgery in March and the current cancer situation, but he was willing to go slow and wait for me or even turn around if I needed to. Both owies were bandaged and I was ready to spend the day in the forest, talking about our dads, the things we want to do with our lives, the qualities of the significant others we dream about…you know, the little things.

Lake 22 is on the Mountain Loop Highway in Granite Falls, WA. It’s one of the few hikes I haven’t done on Mtn Loop. The trail reports looked like it would be easy enough for me, in my current condition. It was 2.7 miles to the lake, another 1.1 miles around the lake and 2.7 back to the car. I figured if the pain got bad, I could turn around and wait at the car. Since the trail around the lake comes back to the same trail, I could’ve waited while he walked around. He disagreed with my ideas. He would have gone back with me if I needed to. That’s one of the qualities.

I didn’t feel either owie. Once we got to the lake, we stopped on the bridge to take pictures. Immediately, both owies started throbbing. We started moving again and headed around the lake. As long as I kept going, I didn’t feel them. As soon as we started going back, I realized that going downhill escalated the pain. It sucked, but the smells, the trees, the birds, the cute little mountain rodents, the waterfalls and navigating the rocks, creeks and tree roots lining the trail, kept me distracted. The pain and swelling seem to still be increasing since we finished the hike. It was my first hike since October. I’m feeling it now. I am so excited I accomplished it!

I am so happy and grateful I was able to hike 6.5 miles, only having to stop to breathe once and I’m still awake, sharing my adventure with you! I hurt all over, but it was worth it!




I am so happy and grateful I was able to hike 6.5 miles, only having to stop to breathe once and I’m still awake, sharing my adventure with you! I hurt all over, but it was worth it!

Love, gratitude and blessings