Susan WonderStone's Blog


Bloedel Reserve

I recently made my first visit to the Bloedel Reserve on Bainbridge Island. The grounds are beautiful! It’s 150 acres with different garden areas and trails throughout the property. There are many types of birds and other critters who choose to live there.

Mama duck and a pile of baby ducks

There was a baby grand piano in the house that a visitor was playing. It was fun to hear!

I was happy to see the poster in the hallway of the house. I have many more pictures, but you’d be better off going to see for yourself. It’s easy to hike the grounds and different seasons bring different views!

Love, gratitude and blessings

~Susan



Thank you King County Sheriff’s Office Deputy!

I’ve been wanting to go hiking at a higher elevation, but my car doesn’t like going over the pass, or even up to it. I try to let things in my environment teach me about myself, remembering when I need to be gentle with my car, I probably also need to be gentle with myself.

One day a couple weeks ago after a meditation, I realized I’ve been feeling stupid for a solid year, angry with myself for not realizing my breast implants were causing such huge problems with my health. Regardless of the fact that none of my doctors ever mentioned it, I was more mad at myself. My vision had been getting worse over the last few years, but got even worse after surgery. I found Dr Shoemaker online. He has a protocol for the biotoxins created from the mold that women with bad implants experience, along with people who have contracted mold from other sources. There are few doctors who understand mold and how to get rid of it. I was frustrated with myself for not figuring it out and spending money that people donated to me over the years for removing the implants instead of cancer treatment, thinking that if I had, the cancer would have gone away with everything else I do. Since I’m still dealing with it, that may not have been the case, but all frustrations in my life have been great learning experiences.

I am being gentle with myself, but still pushing limits when I think I can get away with it. I called a friend who goes skiing at Steven’s Pass almost every week and asked if I could ride along. He and his girlfriend ski, but I was taking my snowshoes to get in an elevation workout. Many people have already scolded me for going snowshoeing by myself, so you don’t need to do it too. If any of them had gone with me, I wouldn’t have been by myself.  Besides, I was just taking the bridge across Highway 2 and snowshoeing up to Skyline lake.

I was wearing a fitness tracker that a friend gave me a few weeks ago. When I was huffing and puffing, needing to stop and breathe, I would check the fitness tracker to see what my heart rate was. Sometimes the heart picture ❤ just flashed. Every time I needed to stop and the heart rate did register it was over 170. One of my doctors told me to keep it below 150, to keep from getting sick from mold die off.  There were quite a few people, but few snowshoers. Most of the people going up had skins on their skis and would ski off the mountain.  Several had their dogs with them who chase them down, apparently without sinking in the snow.

Winter Wonderland

It’s March, so maybe it’s spring wonderland…and a view up my nose!

If you’ve been following me, you know that when I reach my hiking destination, I take a picture of my back without my shirt on, and a back double bicep pose.  If I’m with someone, they take the picture but if I’m by myself I use my gorilla pod to attach my camera to a tree or rock.  With so much snow at the lake, that wasn’t going to happen. As I approach the lake, there were fewer and fewer people.

I found a guy taking a picture of his wife or girlfriend, with the lake and peak in the background.  After talking to them for a couple of minutes, I asked. ” I know this is a crazy request, but would you mind taking a picture of my back without my shirt on? It’s a thing I do at the top of all my hikes.” He agreed.

It was a little awkward taking all of my upper layers off. I don’t care who I’m topless in front of, but his girl seemed uncomfortable. He took a few pictures. I thanked him and  commented again on how weird they probably thought I was.

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Thank you King County Deputy for taking the picture!

He said “No, it’s not a problem. I see naked bodies at work all the time.” I asked what do you do that you see naked people? He replied “I work for the King County sheriffs office.”

It  wasn’t until I was halfway down the mountain, that I realized, maybe it’s legal to be topless in public!

A giant thank you to the deputy who took my picture! Because I don’t know if it’s legal or not, I’m leaving the date of my trip out so I don’t get him in trouble!

Love, gratitude and blessings!

~Susan



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.

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

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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

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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.

 

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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.

 

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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

~Susan

 

 



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. 



Sun or Sunscreen

Yesterday at the Lake 22 trailhead, a group of people were slathering on so much sunscreen, they had a white sheen on their skin. They would be walking under ~100 foot trees for however long it would take them to walk 2.7 miles to the open lake. More than likely, long enough to no longer have sun blocking benefits, but plenty of time to absorb the endocrine disrupting and other toxic qualities of the chemicals in the sunscreen. We were waiting for a parking spot, so they had a head start on us. When we caught up with them, that filter most people have got lost and I said “Aren’t you glad you put on so much sunscreen?” They didn’t know I was being sarcastic until I told them I was. They genuinely thought they were doing something good for themselves. I take my out of the box knowledge I’ve learned over the years as a given that everyone knows, but learning that I’m so wrong! My hiking partner looks up things I talk about on our hikes, most of which, he’s never heard of. He thought sunscreen was a good thing, but he likes to be tan so doesn’t use it.

As we continued to pass our sunscreened hikers, I said “I have recurrent melanoma. I don’t use sunscreen anymore.” One of the women said “Good luck with that.”

It then occurred to me that they didn’t know the relationship between vitamin D deficiency and disease. After my first melanoma diagnosis, I was freaked out about allowing the sun to touch any part of my or my son’s skin. It continued until it spread to my liver, lymphatic system and the skin all over my body. My research flipped my beliefs. When I’m going to be in the sun for hours, I do wear sun protection clothing or sunscreen I make, because sunburns suck!image

Since there are still no medical treatments for recurrent metastatic melanoma that give better results than what I’ve done, I continue to be my own lab rat and experiment with what I learn.

I saw this article today and hope others will do their own research and do what’s best for them.

http://www.realfarmacy.com/scientists-blow-the-lid-on-cancer-sunscreen-myth/

I hoped we would run into the non-believers in the amazing benefits of the sun,  to explain my understanding, but they must’ve turned around. Their car was gone when we got back to the parking lot. The pharmaceutical and ‘food’ industries don’t want us to know we can live better without their chemical soups.

Love, gratitude and blessings

~Susan

 



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!

 

 

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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

~Susan



Skyline Ridge Snowshoe Adventure

The first thing I did when I got up yesterday was look at  www.nwac.us.  The entire Cascade mountain range, from Vancouver WA to Vancouver, BC was showing orange, meaning “considerable” avalanche danger.  Low, moderate, considerable, high and extreme. I was going with my hiking partner, Jack, so at least I’d be with someone.   We decided to go to Skyline Ridge, since 2 weeks ago, it was high avalanche danger and the people we talked to didn’t have any problems. Keeping in mind, just because someone else didn’t have any problems, doesn’t mean anything. Like normal, we got a late start. I don’t have the right gear for the weather, but I am great at improvising and find a way.

Normal people would have snow pants. I wore sweatpants with waterproof rain pants over them and waterproof gaiters to keep the snow out of my boots. Normal people would have a Gore-tex or similar waterproof coat. I wore 2 long sleeve, wicking layers with my non waterproof coat and a waterproof poncho over it. Normal people would have waterproof gloves. I had water resistant gloves and a second set of wool gloves I wore over them. The weather report said it was supposed to be 33F degrees and raining/snow mix. I’m not sure why that sounded okay, but yesterday was the day and when I make a decision, few things get in my way. We got lucky and the temperature was below freezing the entire day.

Jack is in much better shape than I am and does a lot of waiting around for me. I couldn’t ask for a better hiking/snowshoeing partner! He laughs and teases me a little when he turns around at the next switchback, only to see me stopped and panting, or taking baby steps. The route we chose was 1100 ft elevation gain. I hope snowshoeing is harder than hiking, because I don’t remember struggling on last summers hikes like I did yesterday.

By the time we got to the lake, it was 5:00pm. I had forgotten my headlamp, so we needed to turn around soon, to get back to the car before it got too dark. The snow was falling pretty hard. We couldn’t see any of the peaks the trail guide talks about, but still having my own peaks, decided to do my favorite pose for the photo. We did take a front shot, but my back is what I like to share. After my skydiving accident in 2007, my first goal was learning to walk again, my second goal was to get my back muscles back. The scar down the middle might always show up, but it reminds me how far I’ve come. The open lesion I had 2 weeks ago on the back of my neck/upper back is now a scar with the lump still protruding, making me wonder what it is and what I need to do about it. Jack warned me how cold it was going to be, but being stubborn, I decided to do it anyway. I put the poncho on the ground first, then took off all my layers above my waist (except for my hat, goggles and “Turtle Fur”.  My clothes were soaked with sweat and covered with snow before I could fold the poncho over them.  We tried to quickly take the pictures, but the camera didn’t like the freezing temperatures and kept pausing. It had only been 3 minutes when I was attempting to put my clothes back on. My body didn’t feel cold, but my hands did! Both hands were purple and numb. I was able to get all my clothes back on, but my fingers were so numb I couldn’t feel to put my gloves on. Jack helped me with both sets of gloves. He was snacking on trail mix, so since he’s faster than me, I left the lake to get my blood flowing again and head back down. I was too far ahead of him by the time I could feel my fingers again, so I took a few pictures and waited.

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Snowing at Skyline Lake

 

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Skyline ridge trail across from Stevens Pass Ski area

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The moon…but it didn’t show up in the picture

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Skyline Lake. I can’t wait to see it thawed out with blue skies!

Waking up today, it’s obvious that snowshoeing is a lot more strenuous than I thought. My feet, my knees, my leg muscles (all of them), my glutes, my back and my shoulders…are all sore.  So many of the stories I’ve read and the women I’ve talked to who’ve had their breast implants removed, talk about breathing better, muscle soreness and joint pain going away and so many other things! It makes me wonder how much of my pain is self inflicted vs from the breast implants or the cancer. Even though I love the way they look, I can’t wait to see how my life improves after my explant surgery! I drank a bottle of ASEA over the last several hours and will go to work soon. I am grateful for whatever it is inside me that allows me to push my limits and for ASEA to help me recover quickly!

I can’t wait until a blue sky day to go back and see the view!

Love, gratitude and blessings

~Susan