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At 56, my husband died of colon cancer. We had only been married for six months and I had to watch the vibrant, strong man I married wither away and die in my arms.

My husband was a professional dance instructor and in very good shape when I met him in January 1995. He emigrated from Athens, Greece to the United States as a teenager. After we had dated for a few months, I noticed that he would perspire heavily while dancing (which is not so unusual), but also while he was sitting at his desk writing. When he found blood in his stool, I became alarmed and asked him to see a doctor. When the doctor gave us the results of the biopsy, my heart stopped. Cancer was something most people did not survive, but my husband was more concerned at the beginning with having a colostomy (wearing a bag). He was sure he would survive; he just didn't want to wear a bag. When the operation was performed in December 1996, it was successful (per the surgeon) who said that he had gotten all the cancer and no colostomy had to be performed. We were elated with the news and proceeded to plan our wedding.

My husband went for chemotherapy treatments and tolerated them well. He was given anti-nauseous medicine at the same time so he wouldn't get sick, and he didn't lose any of his hair. But when they sent him for radiation treatment at the hospital, he was getting 45 seconds of radiation to his pelvic area. His fingernails and toenails turned black and his energy was zapped. He rested during most of our honeymoon and continued to get weaker. By October 1997, he had to quit work and he had already lost 20 pounds. When his doctor advised that the cancer had spread to his liver, I knew his chances were slim; but the doctor scheduled a second operation for the end of October. My husband decided not to have the second operation. He was disheartened with the failure of the first operation and did not trust his doctors anymore. He wanted to use alternative therapies.

We had read an article on the Internet about Larry Flynt's wife (Penthouse founder) who had breast cancer and was pronounced terminal by her doctors. She found an alternative therapy called hydrazine sulfate (a byproduct of jet fuel) and started taking the pills. Her tumor dissolved and she had been cancer free. My husband wanted to take those pills, but they were not approved by the FDA and could not be purchased in the United States. We were able to buy them online through a Canadian firm. The regimen was fairly inexpensive and the

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