Susan WonderStone's Blog

911, What are you reporting?

911, What are you reporting?
I’m having a medical problem.

As many of you know, I went to Mexico for cancer treatments in March.  I was at a clinic in downtown Tijuana, receiving the same treatments I’ve had there since 2006. I had only planned on going for a week, but on March 28, I found out I’d be able to stay for 2 more weeks of treatments.  I knew I needed 3 or more weeks.  I was so excited! On Sunday, 03/29, the clinic driver took me across the border to go to get organic food and the supplements I would need for the next 2 weeks and get money from Western Union.  While we were in San Diego, I also asked him to stop by T-Mobile so I could get a sim card to be able to text and if I needed to, call my family.  My pre-paid phone wouldn’t work at all in Mexico.  We were told the store was a couple blocks away, more like a couple miles, but made it to the Broadway store in Chula Vista, 3 minutes before they closed.  They already had the doors locked and told me they were closed.  I showed them the time on my T-Mobile phone and told them they were still open.  They did open the door and sold me the sim card.  They were very quiet, obviously mad that they had to stay a few minutes later to help me.  Hoping they’d feel a little compassion, I expressed my gratitude, telling them I was a cancer patient and wanted to be in contact with my family. I called Bert from the store and my phone worked.  We went to several Western Union locations, but they were all closed.  I didn’t have the money I went for, but had a working phone and the foods that would make me happy.  We went back to Tijuana. Once we got back across the border, my phone showed “NO SERVICE”.

I turned it off. I waited.  I turned it on again.  It still didn’t work.  I went through the off/on process several times.  Nothing.  Once back at my apartment, I tried the wi-fi.  It worked, but still no service on the phone.  I was able to use Viber, but no texting without wi-fi. Every night, I walked to the beach by myself. I felt like it was important to have a working phone in case I had a problem and needed to call for help.

On Tuesday, March 31, a friend said he would go with me across the border if I came back to the apartment first to get him.  I thought it would take too long and I wanted to get back before dark, so I asked to be dropped off at the border to walk across by myself.  I needed to go to Western Union for cash and to T-Mobile to get a new sim card or figure out why my phone wasn’t working.  My friend didn’t think I should go because I had insulin potentiation therapy earlier that day.


Insulin Potentiation Therapy.  I’ve been told – and believe – that cancer doesn’t like heat, but does like sugar.  Many people have one treatment at a time, I request the multitasking plan.  My last 3 trips to Mexico, they put me in a full body hyperthermia unit to sweat.  My head is out, but the rest of my body is inside.  They have a blood pressure and oxygen saturation monitor on me and an iv dripping.  If I need water, the nurse would hold the cup to allow me to drink thru a straw.  I’ve always taken my hiking hydration pack and hung it from the iv pole, but forgot it this time.  Another patient farted while she was in there.  She said it was about halfway through, but it lingered.  When the nurse opened up the chamber, the smell nearly knocked her back.  She started fanning her hand, saying there must be something wrong with one of the bulbs.  We laughed hysterically when she came back to the group room and told us about almost “killing” the nurse.    Anyway… after about 45 minutes, the nurse would check my blood sugar.  She would then put whatever amount would bring my blood sugar down to about 50 in 20 minutes. It was usually 4 units, but I learned on days I was anxious or scared for whatever reason, my blood sugar was higher and we needed to use more.  That day my blood sugar was higher and I needed 6 units.  Cancer cells have between 10 and 100 times the amount of insulin receptor sites as healthy cells. Introducing insulin, “eats” the sugar out of the blood, starving the cancer cells. When they’re good and hungry, we feed them by adding sugar…but…we poison it.  Once my blood sugar was around 50, she would inject either 1/10 of a dose of chemotherapy or laeatrile in a glucose solution.  In 2006, 2007, 2009 and 2010, we used different chemotherapy drugs.  I’ve had 5FU, dacarbazine,  carboplatin and one more I’m not remembering.  My second week in 2010, we switched to laeatrile and used it again this time.  Shortly after the sugar starts dripping in, the treatment is over.

This is a video from 2010…

The amount of glucose will only bring the blood sugar up for a short time.  It is important to eat shortly after so the blood sugar will stabilize. I drank a green drink and a few raw eggs, then took a shower and returned to my other treatments.


I was frustrated that my phone still didn’t work.  My friend told me 3 times he didn’t think I should go, but I insisted!  He dropped me off close to the border around 4pm.  My friend at the apartment had told me to go to the disabled line and just keep walking to the front of the line.  I must have passed 300 people standing in the other line. I knew if I stood in line I’d have a problem, but thought I could make it if I kept walking.  After walking for what seemed like a mile, I made it to the United States crossing.  The officer asked me what I had been doing in Mexico.  I guess the bandage on my chest with the iv catheter sticking out made my cancer patient story enough.  He sent me through. I had been told to take a cab at the first stop light.  Right.  Me. Take. a. cab.  I don’t think so.  I was fully capable of walking, so I did.  I got to Western Union and waited in line.  They didn’t have the amount of money I was there to get.  She told me where the next closest location was. I asked about T-Mobile.  She said it was walking distance, on the other side of I-5. I walked to the next Western Union, got my money, and confirmed with the clerk where the T-Mobile store was.

Walking distance.  In case you didn’t know, it’s relative to the individual defining it.  I hiked to the top of Mailbox Peak earlier in the month, during a miscarriage (I know, another story I haven’t told you.) I started walking. If she said walking distance, I could do it! As I turned to walk across the bridge over I-5, I realized my blood sugar was dropping.  I had an oil and water drink with me, but that wasn’t going to raise my blood sugar, only potentially stabilize it from dropping more.  I drank about 4 ounces.  I got my phone out.  It still said NO SERVICE. I knew I had to get somewhere I could get help.  I kept walking to the T-Mobile store.  Traffic going toward Mexico was heavy.  Crossing the street, in the crosswalk with a walk signal, was like a game of Frogger.  I noticed a Guitar Center. One of the patients was looking for a guitar.  I knew my blood sugar was dropping, so I would just tell him about it instead of going in to see their selection.  I kept walking.

I made it to the T-Mobile Store.  I pulled out my phone.  I had 3 bars.  The guy with the clipboard asked for my name and how he could help me.  I gave him my name and phone number, then said “I’m having a medical problem.  I need you to write down another phone number and call it if I pass out.”  He just looked at me.  I could feel my strength fading. I raised my voice and told him “Bert.  Write it down, PLEASE!”  He kept looking at me, not writing.  I started saying Bert’s phone number and he wrote it down. I was sweating and breathing heavy, not from the walk, but the low blood sugar and the increasing anxiety that I was about to pass out. There were about 20 people in the store, waiting their turns. All of the benches were being sat on.  I called Bert.  (He recognizes when my blood sugar is low, sometimes before I do.  2 years ago, he saw me, minutes before I was going to skydive and told me he was taking me to get something to eat.  I thought he was overreacting, but I passed out as soon as we got to the car.)  I walked to the front corner of the store and sat down on the floor. I told him what was happening and where I was at.  He was irritated that I called him, in Seattle, or wherever he was, instead of calling someone close by. I would find out when I got home that he was moving out while I was gone. Four years is better than five, right? I knew things were getting worse.  I told him I needed to call 911 and I would call him back. I yelled to the employee with the clipboard.  “I need the address here!”  He looked at me, but didn’t respond.  I yelled louder “I’m calling 911!  Please someone give me the address!”  He walked over and handed me a business card.  I don’t know if people thought I was mad, crazy, or any variation, but I felt like I was invisible.  Nobody seemed to want to be bothered.  All the employees kept helping customers. The customers waiting continued sitting, standing, milling around the store.

911, What are you reporting?

“I’m having a medical problem. I’m at the T-Mobile store at 4310 Camino de la Plaza suite D in San Ysidro.”

He asked me what was happening.  I told him “I’m a cancer patient, I had an insulin treatment today and my blood sugar is crashing.”  His calm voice announced he was California Highway Patrol when the fire dispatcher answered the phone.  She asked me what kind of emergency I was having.  I thought I was being clear, but she couldn’t understand me.  I repeated myself. She asked me again.  I said “Blood sugar, t-mobile, ani/ali”.  (Ani/Ali is the tool the 911 center I worked at used to determine location. I don’t know if it’s a universal term.) The CHP guy was still on the line and told her what I was trying to say.  While I was still on the phone with them, a T-Mobile employee walked over and told me Bert was on their phone and I needed to get up and come talk to him.  It’s a good thing I couldn’t speak clearly and didn’t have the energy to, because what I would’ve said would not have been nice. As soon as I was done with the 911 call, a woman on the bench 3 feet away, asked me if she could get me something from 7-11.  She saw the gratitude on my face.  I asked her for orange juice. She understood me and said she’d be right back. She was a beautiful woman, wearing a batman shirt. A familiar hero! As soon as she left, I heard the sirens.  I called Bert back.  It seemed like only 2 or 3 minutes before the corner of the store was filled with a gurney and a lot of firemen, probably 6 or 8, but I have no idea how many there were.  Bert asked to talk to them, so I handed one of them my phone.  He later told me he was explaining what was going on with me, since I wasn’t making a lot of sense.  The main paramedic got down on one knee to talk to me.  He was gorgeous! I imagined a proposal, if only I were 10…or 20 years younger. His arm was a a canvas of multi colored tattoos. His muscles and vascularity on his arms were filling my head with wonders of the muscularity and tattoos on his chest.  It was hard to answer questions, mainly because I thought I might be drooling. I wondered how developed his abs and my favorite part of the obliques and serratus muscles were. He poked my finger to check my blood sugar and -OUCH!- snapped me out of my fantasy. It was in the 60’s, but higher than 62.  He said they weren’t allowed to give me any glucose if it was over 62.  I know that when I’m scared, my adrenaline and blood sugar both go up. I was glad I was scared or it would have probably been lower. They wanted to transport me to the hospital.  I knew my insurance wasn’t valid in California. I didn’t want to go to a hospital with a catheter already in my chest.  Trauma or accident, yes, I believe U.S. hospitals are probably the best in the world.  Cancer treatment, no way!  I didn’t want to be unconscious in a hospital where they do what they believe is in your best interest.  11 years after my first expiration date, I know their belief of my best interest and mine are VERY different! I suggested I drink the orange juice and see if I improved.  They really wanted to transport me.  I assured them I’d be fine if I just had the orange juice and ate food.  One of the medics handed me the orange juice.  I didn’t have the dexterity to open it.  After several tries, I asked them to open it.  We agreed they would give me a few minutes to digest the orange juice and if I could get up, they would not transport me.  I drank the 15 oz bottle.  While we were waiting, the muscular medic and one more my age, were asking me questions.

“Who’s at the store with you?”  Nobody.

“Who’s in California with you?” Nobody.

“Who’s in Mexico with you?” Nobody.

“Who are you staying with?”  Nobody. I’m in an apartment by myself.

“You came down here from Washington, and are having cancer treatments in Tijuana by yourself?”  Yeah. Yay!  I was so excited!  They were understanding me!  I was still too weak to sound excited, but pulling out of it. I was trying to explain insulin potentiation therapy to them.  They helped me get up on the bench, where the good looking 40 something medic filled out the paperwork with me.

The magic patch to keep me alive

The magic patch to keep me alive

He told me to leave the sticky things on because they would save my life. I had no idea what he was talking about until he pointed to my shoulder. I had to sign, saying I was refusing their medical advice to be transported and fill in some blanks.  The others took the gurney back to the truck and waited outside. They assured me they’re close by if I needed to call again.  They helped me up and left.  I was still confused, but felt a lot better.  I found the orange juice woman in the batman shirt and thanked her.  I got money out, but she didn’t want it. I thanked her again and left the store.  I looked around, wondering what I was going to eat. I had been on a ketogenic diet (under 30 grams of carbohydrates per day) for almost 3 years.  I wanted to stay in ketosis.  I only wanted to eat the way I’m used to eating. Bert called back while I was wandering around looking for something to eat.  I had no idea how much time I had before it could happen again. I needed to eat soon.  He knew I needed to eat soon.   Burger King, Jack in the Box and Subway were the only options I saw.  I was crying, telling him I didn’t want any of those things, but knew I had to eat.  I opted for Subway.  He was still on the phone when I ordered.  I told the guy it didn’t matter what bread because I wasn’t going to eat it.  Bert ordered me to get the bread and eat the entire sub.  Thinking clearly and low blood sugar don’t happen together. I continued to have tears stream down my face, attempting to hide that I was crying from him. I didn’t want him to be as scared as I was. He needed to get off the phone, so I sat down and started eating the sandwich.  It didn’t taste bad, but I hadn’t had bread of any kind in over 3 years. I was concerned about how my stomach would react, but I knew I had to eat to stabilize my blood sugar.  I was scared. I wanted to talk to someone.  I didn’t want to worry my mom, or Cameron, so I called Derek.  In 2008, he lived with us.  We knew we would never be in a “relationship”, but were close and are still very grateful for each other. I felt safe crying to him. His voice was comforting. We were only on the phone for a few minutes.  I only ate half the sub and went back to the T-Mobile store.

They recognized me and got someone to help me instead of putting me at the bottom of the list.  The woman who was assigned to me couldn’t figure out why my phone wasn’t working right. She called someone. She called someone else who told her we had to do a factory reset on my phone.  I had medical information on it, the addresses of the clinic, my apartment, and all my pictures I look at to comfort myself when I’m stressed out. They assured me it would be saved in the icloud, whatever the hell that is, but I still said no.  They offered me a different phone to borrow, then said they didn’t have one.  I explained how far I had to walk and needed my phone to work in case I had another problem. Somehow, she figured it out.  I was in the store until after 7:30. It was dark, but my phone worked.  I promised Bert I would take a cab.

Bike taxi driver and the woman I rode with

Bike taxi driver and the woman I rode with

I asked a border patrol agent coming out of Subway, who told me to take a bicycle cab.  I did.  I ate more of the sandwich during transport. I think it was less than a mile.  I walked to the Mexico side and through the border crossing.  I was tired and scared, but actually felt safe, walking in Tijuana.  My guardian angels were with me!

Entering Mexico

Entering Mexico


They’re waiting to get into the United States

I made it safely back to my apartment.  My phone worked. I texted Bert.  I realized when I went to the bathroom to take a shower, the sticky things were on both shoulders and both legs.  They must have been what protected me!

Sticky thing on my left ahoulder

Sticky thing on my left shoulder

Love, gratitude and blessings


My Alternative Cancer Treatments

I have done SO much. I’m writing a book about it, but far from being done. I’ve done a lot of emotional work. I believe the cancer shows up after emotional trauma, whether recent or farther back than we can remember, there seems to always be a link.

Major detoxing of thoughts and physical body. PARASITE CLEANSE – I use
I’m currently taking it. I’ve been doing it 3 months every year. I drink APPLE CIDER VINEGAR daily. During my last cancer issue, I mostly fasted on apple cider vinegar and coconut oil. It kept my blood sugar normal and my ketones up. When I took the bandage off my breast, it looked almost normal. 5 days earlier, it looked like I would have a badly deformed nipple.

DRY BRUSHING, BOUNCING ON EXERCISE BALL OR REBOUNDER, FULL BODY VIBRATION MACHINE, MASSAGE, HOT/COLD ALTERNATING SHOWERS – All are to stimulate the lymphatic system. Anytime there’s cancer, there’s a blockage in movement within the body.

OIL PULLING – Many benefits, including detoxing, but for me, more importantly, the gums associated with the teeth where the cancer is – tend to give me problems. Oil pulling has prevented several root canals. I prefer sesame oil, but you can also use sunflower or coconut oil. see

FAR INFRARED SAUNA – Detoxing through the skin. I did 1-2 hours a day, daily in 2006, now 30-60 minutes several times a week.
FAR INFRARED HEAT LAMP – TDP LAMP – Used locally over known tumors

HYPERBARIC CHAMBER – 1 hour/day. I bought mine on eBay. 3-7 days a week since January 2008, depending on how bad the cancer is.

GERSON COFFEE ENEMAS – Directions on my blog or YouTube

There are 4 because I couldn’t figure out how to make one video when i stopped the camera.

HYDROGEN PEROXIDE/OZONE THERAPIES – I’ve gone to a hospital in Mexico for H2O2 iv’s and several ozone therapies. I use an ozone generator to ozonate my water, myself – in my ears, rectal insufflation or vaginal – depending on the problem, olive oil which I use in suppositories and salves for skin issues. We also use H2O2 and ozone in our hot tub instead of chemicals.

SHOWER FILTERS, STEAM DISTILLER, WATER PURIFIER FOR DRINKING AND COOKING WATER – Important to filter out impurities from municipal water. I know nothing about the water where you are, but here, it’s chlorinated and flouridated – neither of which will help your body fight cancer.


IPT was either done with B17 (Laetrile) or Microdose chemo.

MICRODOSE CHEMOTHERAPY – Also at hospital in Mexico. 1/10 of normal chemo dose. I’ve had Dacarbazine, Carboplatin and 5 FU. I didn’t have the “normal” chemo side effects. No side effects that I noticed.

BLOODROOT BLACK SALVE – Details on my website
I purchased it from
The salve is at the bottom of the page – mainly for skin cancer, but I’ve taken tumors out from my breast and abdomen that weren’t on the surface of my skin.

DIET – It has changed as things have changed for me. I’ve done a completely raw diet, which worked great, but I got overconfident, thinking the cancer was under control and the fruit possibly made things worse. I was stressed out at the time, so I don’t know for sure if it was the fruit or the stress. I’ve been doing Elaine’s Ketogenic diet since June of 2012. I was under A LOT of stress last year and had more cancer in 2013 than in the last 6 years combined. I still feel things would be worse without the diet. I’m eating mostly raw, preparing my veggies in the blender with water as opposed to making salads and chewing.

During the last cancer issue, I mostly fasted several days on RAW APPLE CIDER VINEGAR and COCONUT OIL – Major staples in my current diet. When I took the bandage off, it almost looked like nothing had happened. 5 days earlier, it looked like I would have a badly deformed nipple – if it didn’t fall off completely.

FACE MY FEARS – Facing my fears unsuccessfully taught me a lot. Facing them successfully has given me more confidence than anything I’ve ever done!

BE HAPPY!! – Happiness is a choice. I’ve had miserable people in my life try to make me just as miserable as they are. I find things that make me happy and think about that. Be around happy people!

MEDITATE – Learn to relax!

DREAM BOARD – Set and have goals. We HAVE to have something to look forward to!

EXERCISE! – I enjoy hiking, but when the weather isn’t what I want to be hiking in, I’m in the gym or doing something else. Most important, regardless of what it is, move! Our bodies were meant to move. If you can’t get out of bed…SEX!

I’m sure there’s more! Right now, all I can think about is SEX!

Love, gratitude and blessings!

Help Our Amazing WonderWoman…Susan~Fight for Life!
Written by Amanda Hirschbeck – All About Hope
In March of 2000, Susan was diagnosed with melanoma. In 2002 she had more surgeries, then in 2004 she was diagnosed with stage 4, metastatic melanoma, which had spread to her liver and lymphatic system. As we know, most patients are dead within a year of traditional treatment of metastatic melanoma.
Susan, with a young son to care for, refused to believe this was the end for her. Her fight was only beginning, and what a battle she has been fighting! Her mother picked up and helped her financially giving her some relief of house payments and daily living expenses. Susan sought other alternatives to help kick her battle with cancer. Through nutrition, oxygen and heat therapies, along with detoxing and other alternative means she has been able to clear her liver and join the line of miracle people.
Today’s economy, stress and emotions have made new areas appear, leading her to needing more extensive treatment. We are speaking with Dr. _Quintana, who is willing to help Susan with her fight to live by providing her treatment. Susan’s “Bucket List Wish” is to live as long as she can. So we are helping her with this request to live.
Please help Susan and her son Cameron “Celebrate Life” by fighting for life.

Contributions sent to:
All About HOPE
3237 110th Ave SE
Bellevue, WA 98004
Memo To: Susan Wonder Woman Bucket List Wish

New Cancer Treatment – I don’t think so
July 29, 2009, 6:11 pm
Filed under: alternative treatments, cancer, flu, Hyperthermia, immune system, Inspiration

Two days ago on a news channel that repeats itself all day long, they talked about a new treatment for pancreatic cancer.  Full body Hyperthermia.  New?  I saw the machine they were talking about.  It’s the oven.  See my archived story “The Oven”.  I sent my doctors in Mexico an email asking how long this machine has been used.  They put me in it in 2006, and it wasn’t new then.  Without his permission – this is his response:

DR. Q.  M.D.

I guess I just need to be thankful U.S. doctors are waking up and will continue to research more natural alternatives to boost the immune system instead of the shotgun approach, killing off the good with the bad.

Love, gratitude and blessings


The Oven
March 30, 2009, 3:27 pm
Filed under: alternative treatments, health, Hyperthermia

I was talking to one of the doctors about going back to the hospital in a couple of months.  “The Oven” is one of the treatments I get in the hospital in Mexico.

Full body hyperthermia. Cancer falls apart at high temperatures. What if you could heat the body without cooking the brain. As long as the cancer isn’t in the head or brain, doesn’t it make sense? The first time I got in “the oven”, it was different than anything I had ever done, but so were all the other treatments they were putting me through. It almost looked like a tanning bed, the kind that has the mattress on the bottom and the lights on the top. They explained that your body gets so hot that they have to put an iv in to keep you from getting dehydrated. They had me put on a hospital gown, which I think was mostly so they didn’t have to see me naked than anything else. It was a hassle getting clothes on and off over the iv. I climbed in, laying on my back. Dr Munoz brought the top down, again very similar to a tanning bed, except that the top started at my neck. My head would be sticking out during the treatment. He then attached a thick vinyl curtain around all the sides. Probably because my arms were stuck inside, (my left arm had the iv, and my right arm donned a blood pressure cuff) my face and head immediately started itching. I was told I would be in there an hour. The idea was to get my core temperature up to 106*, while monitoring my blood pressure, heart rate, EKG and oxygen saturation. If at any time, vitals shift too far, the session is over. The blood pressure monitor automatically checks every 15 minutes. I think I would fall asleep at about 13 minutes, just in time for the cuff to start inflating and wake me up. Usually the doctor, but sometimes a nurse would come in to check and document all the numbers and offer me water. Next time I go, I’ll hang a camelback from the iv pole, so I can drink from it without getting a lot of air from the straw and choking. At the other end, trying to stay hydrated with the iv and drinking water every 15 minutes, filled up my bladder. At one point, Dr Munoz said “Well – just pee then”. It just seemed wrong, trying to pee the bed. I couldn’t do it. I thought if I could just go a little, and not completely empty my holding tank, I could hold out and finish the treatment. I tried, but nothing happened. I don’t remember ever getting in trouble for wetting the bed, but there must be something pretty strong that was preventing me from even a little purposeful dribble.
After an hour, my oral temperature was 102. There was a fan blowing on my head, which helped dry some of the sweat, but also dried out my eyes and contacts. The doctor would dry my face with a towel every time he came in, but would wipe softly and gently pat it dry. It almost made it itch more. Remember…my arms are stuck inside. I can’t do anything about the balls of sweat dripping in my eyes, in my ears and rolling down my face, tickling all the way. I told him to use more pressure. “Wipe it like I’m your kid with dried enchilada sauce on my face.” It wasn’t much longer, I could handle it. Moving my legs a little, I realized I was almost swimming. No wonder he told me to go ahead and pee. No one would ever know.
The plan was to treat the lump in my head with other treatments, but if we could attack the bad guys in my liver and lymphatic system, I would have a stronger army to launch their attack in my head.
My 3rd time in the oven, I drank a lot the day before, but not the morning of. I asked if I could get in soon after my iv was started. It would probably be my last time, so I wanted to stay in as long as possible. I brought a familiar cd, so I could have a better idea of how long I had been in, based on the song that was playing. Everything was like the other times until about 90 minutes. My oral temperature was 104*. Dr Munoz asked me if I was ready to get out. I told him I was ok. My other vitals were fine, so he agreed to let me stay in. Within about a minute of him leaving, I started crying. Borderline hysterical, I noticed Clyde and Talon in the room. Were they really there? Their presence re-assured me that everything was going to be ok. Still crying, the round stool moved, as if someone pushed it out of the way. Bonnie was now licking the tears, sweat and snot off my face, like she did when both Clyde and Talon had died. It was so real. How could my three dead dogs be with me in a clinic in downtown Tijuana? My crying slowed down, nearly stopping. I felt a peacefulness that had been missing from my life. I really felt like I was going to be ok. I saw the three Rottweilers, felt their presence, but was aware enough to think I was hallucinating and might be in trouble. I told Bonnie to go get Dr Munoz. He showed up a few seconds later. My temperature was still 104* and all other numbers were ok. Since it appeared I was ok, I told him I would shoot for 2 hours. As he started to shut the door, I told him to leave it open. I told him how I had sent Bonnie out to get him and that she hadn’t come back yet. He asked “Who’s Bonnie?” I told him that she was my dog and that she and the others had come to comfort me at the funeral we had been having for the cancer since the last time he checked on me. Instead of shutting the door or leaving the room with the door open so Bonnie could come back in, he quickly made his u-turn, turned the oven off and started unhooking the thick vinyl curtain. I told him I wanted to get my temperature to 106*. He said my rectal and core temperature was probably there. I declined with a sarcastic “NO” when he asked if I wanted him to check it for sure. After he unhooked everything, I felt like I was climbing out of a shallow kids pool in the now heavy, fully saturated gown, in the middle of a Texas summer. He told me he would get a nurse to help me change. After he left, I realized how bad I had to pee. I got the gown off and hung it from the iv pole. Trying not to slip in the puddle, I dried off enough to get dressed. My new goal was to make it to the bathroom without making another puddle. I bent over to put my underwear on. Halfway up, I noticed the iv tubing looked different. There was about 3 feet of blood in it. I started to panic. The fluid was supposed to be going in, not my blood going out. I rolled the pole to the door, now hysterically crying again, underwear twisted up on one side and still below my butt on the other, nothing else covered.  
     I often teased Dr Munoz about being naked, because it made him blush, and made me laugh. He saw me standing there in my puddle of emotions and rushed in to help.
The rest of the story will be in my book.
Love, gratitude and blessings