If you are fully committed to undertaking treatment of your
Hepatitis C with Interferon and Ribavirin you might want to stop
reading now. Move to another of my
posts, and hopefully you will find information and support that will complement
your choice of treatments. I don’t want
to undermine or discourage your choices; the empowerment of this disease lies
in the process of all of us making our own decisions about how to deal with
it. I’m not a doctor, and what follows
is a very personal essay on choosing to forgo conventional treatment.
I began this blog
because I wanted to provide another perspective on possible approaches to
having Hep C, and my personal decision has been to challenge the disease using
only natural methods. This posting is
an explanation of the reasoning that went into that choice, and is being
written for those who are trying to figure out whether they want to do
conventional or alternative treatment for this disease. One evening of Internet surfing will supply
you with hundreds of sites that propose using drug therapy in the fight against
Hep C; far fewer discuss and support the concept of all-natural healing.
Since I have been diagnosed, I have attempted a myriad of
alternative therapies with the goal of strengthening my body so as to make
space for it to heal itself. Does that
mean that I expect the outcome to be a final extermination of the virus, as is
the hope in conventional therapy? No. My goal is simply to build
up the positive aspects of my health so that I am able to live in a balanced,
non-destructive symbiosis with the virus that inhabits me. I want my liver to remain undamaged, even
while it hosts a potentially dangerous viral tenant. If I am successful, I will live to a ripe old age, fully active
and alert, and die peacefully with my impotent little Hep C viruses passing
with me.
I do not rule out the possibility of ever attempting
chemical therapies. Right now, with
what is currently available, I find the odds too unwieldy, the costs too high,
and am not willing to pay the price in my well being for what strikes me as a
chancy outcome. If those statistics
change or if my health becomes too precarious to trust to my own handling, I
will certainly turn my body over to western medicine and see where it takes
me. We all hope that new drugs will be
discovered that have fewer side effects and higher success rates. Until then, I feel more confident in my own
capacity to heal using natural methods than through the use of highly toxic
drug therapies.
I do go and get regular blood work done, so I can monitor
my progress honestly. I have had to
push to get my full lab results sent directly to me, rather than being buried
in my files and synopsized in vague letters from doctors. I wanted numbers, numbers to track and
chart and use as mile markers as I traveled through this. It was important to me to have a way to
measure my situation beyond subjectivity. I got a liver biopsy in my second year of knowing I carried Hep C, to
gather even more information. I want to
carefully use those aspects of western medicine available to enhance my
understanding of my disease.
I decided not to do conventional drug therapy largely because I do not feel that the success rate is proportional to the potential side effects. I did a wide-ranging amount of research and find that, although figures vary slightly between different sources, the success rate (measured by being free of the virus, or clearing) is only at about 30% for people who have my genotype, 1a. I’m a bit of a risk-taker, but if you asked me to invest in your enterprise and there was only a 30% chance of success, I would hold onto my money. Other genotypes have more promising success rates, and, being of a logical bent, I might feel differently if I were looking at a 50% or 80% possibility of successfully clearing the virus. Tell me I have a thirty percent chance of standing up and walking away unbroken when I jump from this building, and, unless fire is lapping fiercely at my heels, I would try to figure another way out.
The costs of attempting the treatment are high. If I could have a go at it with no real risk
to myself, I would certainly try, even with those odds, preparing myself for
the possibility of its failure. Unfortunately, the chemicals used to treat the disease are powerful
ones. I can’t quite get my head around
the concept of pumping my already challenged liver full of toxic chemicals and
hoping it gets better. It is the mighty
liver that detoxifies the body, and so, it seems to me, I would be highly
stressing an already stressed organ.
Here is a list, pulled from the AIDS Treatment Data Network
website, of the potential side effects of Interferon and Ribavirin:
“The most common side effects of pegylated interferon include: a decrease
in white blood cells and platelets, anemia, nausea, diarrhea, fever, chills,
muscle and joint pain, difficulty in concentrating, thyroid dysfunction, hair
loss, sleeplessness, irritability, mild to serious depression, and rarely,
suicidal thoughts. Other serious adverse events include bone marrow toxicity,
cardiovascular disorders, hypersensitivity, endocrine disorders, pulmonary
disorders, colitis, pancreatitis, and ophthalmologic disorders (eye and vision
problems). Pegylated
interferon may also cause or make worse fatal or life-threatening
neuropsychiatric, autoimmune, ischemic, and infectious disorders.
Side effects of ribavirin include nausea and anemia. Anemia caused by ribavirin is usually easily treatable. Ribavirin can also cause birth defects.”
Huh. Well. I’m just not feeling like this is a good way to heal my body.
Of course I second-guess myself. I fantasize that I would be one of the 30% for whom all these side effects would eventually be a dim memory, my body fully cleared of the virus, everything as it once was. Then I put the two sets of concerns together and wonder, even if I were one of the lucky folks for whom the medicines are effective, what the impact on my whole body would be in the long term. I don’t want to rid myself of this virus, with whom I am co-existing somewhat successfully, and find myself some years down the road dealing with an auto-immune disorder kicked into life by taking Interferon. It simply seems counter-intuitive to me to take such a profoundly dangerous drug to restore myself.
More than anything, I think the potential psychiatric effects of the drug scare me. Having read many posts on Hep C chat boards, it seems that this is not a rare outcome. There is a large body of anecdotal experience that seems to suggest that many steady psyches are led into rage and despair with the use of this drug. While I value my liver health, and want more than anything to not be dealing with this virus, I am far more terrified at the thought of losing my hold on my psycho-emotional wellness. I trust my mental health, questionable as it may seem to outsiders, and the idea of having to continue dealing with this illness (if I ended up in the larger 70% category) without all my emotional resources strikes me as a massive step backward.
Ultimately, there is no way of knowing whether I am right in my decision. I am trusting my intuition, which is something we are seldom encouraged to do in this culture. I try to remain flexible and open to new information, willing to change my mind if necessary. Even more than having faith in my intuition, I have to trust in the innate wisdom of the universe. I have to believe that the body was designed to heal itself, and that there are energetic forces within the body capable of powerful impact. I have to trust that good food heals and happiness heals and herbs heal and nature heals and love heals. I work hard to believe that the universe wants me to survive, that I am necessary to the design of the cosmos, and that my ending will come at the perfect and appropriate moment.
Some
days these are hard things to hold onto, and some days they feel like the only
possible truths.
Hi micheleara
I used to have HepC (1b), did the tx, cleared it - and still read your blog. I like it - what you have to say and how you say it.
You have very sensitively and articulately written about issues which also concerned me during my journey with HepC.
I look forward to reading more and have made a link from my blog to yours.
Wishing you well
Ron
Posted by: Ron Metcalfe | October 29, 2006 at 02:36 AM
This sums up exactly the values that led me to rule out interferon+ for myself.
Most people won't get cirrhosis or HCC, so why assume the worst? And sacrificing mental balance and acuity - even if clearance was guaranteed - for years, as well as one's well-being, well, it's like you say - a poor risk.
I made these decisions before people I knew went thru Tx, now I am even more certain I'm doing the right thing. I've followed a glutathione-raising protocol,
amino acids (usually l-methionine) with selenium, and a multi with magnesium, B vitamins, C, E; I eat fish (for omega 3s and protein), fresh veges and fruit, rice bran oil, drink tea, a can of taurine drink every morning. I went from sick, depressed and unwilling to help myself to healthy, euphoric and eager so quickly that I could measure the improvement weekly, sometimes daily. This was 2 or 3 years ago - the first year my out-of-shape body had to catch up with my suddenly eager mind and my more and more capable liver, the second year was easier, more relaxed, the third year is getting hard to tell apart from normal, except that I never felt so happy even before I got Hep C. The changes in my lifestyle and diet are as important as the supplements, but I could never apply them before: it's as if glutathione is something akin to willpower for me. I've blogged my research and some experiences at http://blog.myspace.com/georgedhenderson
a link re amimno acids is at
chapter 16, http://www.hepcchallenge.org/choices
Posted by: George D. Henderson | October 29, 2006 at 02:52 PM
Hello,
You have a talent for expressing yourself with the written word. It appers you have an enlightened approach to living with the virus.
HCV is an interesting teacher Living with the virus opens doors of insight and pushes us to evaluate the depth of our human experience.
I know it has provided me the opportunity to explore who I am and the journey I am on.
I have treated and relapsed and that has given me the outlook of the observer.
Will I treat again probably, do I respect those who do not treat yes I do... both choices take tremendous courage.
I believe if we choose or have to we can live with this virus with grace. We have done it for many many years already.
With Reverance to your journey
Denise
Posted by: Denise | October 30, 2006 at 03:48 PM