I can't help from personal experience, and this place is getting pretty dead. I recommend checking out this group on facebook:
Body Suspension

It depends, what the chemotherapy did. If it did not affect the skin and the connective tissue, then it should work with Little Problems. Also you have quite some time between last chemo and the suspension, that helps safety...

If you feel you have a weak circulatory system, then you shel be careful. Blacking out during suspension happens to many, many people! Maybe also montor yourself - how painresistent are you (if the chemo made you sensible, be aware, that a suspension does hurt).

If you want to improve chances for a really nice suspension experience you might consider other suspensions than crucifix or suicide. I personally prefer angel or superman a lot, less weight per hook = less pain = much more comfortable suspension, while you will experience the flying feeling. And lying horizontally greatly reduces the risc of any black-out.

My first suspension also was a suicide one. Quite OK, Good weird flying feeling. But uncomfortable, like some... shadow over the experience. Still good, but a month later I went for the superman, and that was mind blasting. And the same when I first tried an angel. The so much better distribution of the weight allows to fly pain free, comfortable... (Edit: be aware, the piercing process, and the pulling till you are up in the air still quite hurts)

Edited by Stormchaser - February/12/2015 at 8:38pm

Originally posted by adam Dont' forget that more than just the strength of your skin, you want to make sure the strength of your body and mind are ready too. That's a lot of stress to go under. Hang safe! .: Adam

Duly noted. My mind is ready for this. It's hard to describe, but I feel that this will be both a sort of transition back into a world with which I am familiar, and a way to reconnect with my body. It's been doing these strange, unexplained things for so long, that I've almost forgotten what "normal" feels like. This is somewhat familiar territory, and I can have some say so as to when it starts and stops. It also has a deeply spiritual meaning for me.

As for being bodily ready for this, I'll know better where I am with that as the date gets closer. At the moment, I feel better than I've felt in a while. I'm pretty good about listening to my body, though, and if it's telling me it ain't gonna happen... well, it just ain't gonna happen. My hope is that I'll be recovered enough from Monday's treatment by then to hang. Historically, the chemo hasn't knocked me down too badly. Fingers crossed...