Medical Ozone Therapy Personal Testimonial Part Three

Continued from Medical Ozone Therapy Personal Testimonial Part Two

For those that are following this, I truly apologise for the length of it all but I do believe that what I have to say, conclude and inform will help a lot of you that suffer daily. It may also help those in the future. It does relate to ozone therapy and medical ozone in a later post but as well it as well relates to Alternative or Complementary Medicine and Modern Medicine. Health is something we all have issues with at one time or another and we are constantly bombarded with claims and choices. To add to all this confusion are the irresponsible actions from those that are only there to create chaos and insecurity. These are the shrills that either misinterpret science or create issues that do not exist for financial or ego driven gain. So, the more reality based and realistic testimonies there are, the better for all. Please feel free to share all this to your friends and loved ones. As well, please comment and debate, it is the way we all learn...

Off to the IVC operation we go, this was an operation that occurs while you are fully awake. I was given a local anesthetic and I really can't explain the feeling that you get when someone is cutting into your neck and shoving a tube inside it, it is, to say the least, bizarre. They showed me the filter, it was a strange looking thing, reminded me of a fishing lure. I was able to watch what they were doing because there were screens around to guide them and they turned one in my direction so that I could see. There was really no feeling and it was just a matter of shoving this fishing lure deep enough so that it would catch all possible clots so they would not go to my heart or brain. This surgery was done rather quickly and painlessly, not even a scar was visible, no wonder this guy was the best.

It was a couple of days until the major surgery so I had time to put my will together as well try to organize what needed to be done just in case I was not coming back after surgery. Those of you that have been through this and have young kids and a wife can relate to what needs to be done before you let's just say, expire. It is a herculean undertaking and I do not wish anyone to go through it especially when it is completely unexpected, which in my case, it was. It took a couple of days for my INR to be acceptable enough for surgery but my platelets were not doing so well. we had to take some time and let my body absorb a couple of bags of platelets before the operation.

Finally, it was time. I said goodbye to  the kids, my son shell shocked and my daughter crying, wife by my side we went off to the operating theater. Once outside the doors, I told my wife my good byes and asked the nurse to ensure that she tells my wife when I am out of surgery, my wife sat down outside of those doors and only she would know what was going on through her head at that time, to top it all off, that day was her birthday, what a present this was for her, I can only imagine how brave she would have to be to endure this. We always consider our own horror and pain but we truly need to understand what happens to those around us that love us, the innocents in all this. In my eyes they are the true heroes and strength is tested to its limits by what occurs when their lives are interrupted by the issues of a loved one. They wheeled me in and placed me in a corner, a man came by with sheets of paper to sign absolving the hospital and anyone remotely connected to anyone there of any liability should I not survive. Not really reassuring. He then asked if I had questions, yeah, lots but I knew there were no answers. They stuck a needle in me and the guy holding it said, count to 100 backwards, 99...98........

There was nothing I remember about the surgery and the first semblance of reality was when my eyes opened a bit and I saw the surgeon in his gear looking at me and saying, "he's back and looks ok", as I faded again into an unconscious state. As I woke up I saw two figures in operating room garb, one was my wife but I could not recognize the other for a minute and then I realized it was my partner’s son. They had wide smiles on their faces, they were extremely excited I was back from the dead, while I, was rather confused. Trying to talk was a huge issue and to me I sounded fine but later found out that I sounded like a guy that had been on a week-long drinking bender. After my relieved wife saw that I was somewhat ok, I was put in recovery where I had to spend the night, only one there in this big room with what looked like nurses, I couldn't really tell as they were quite young but I had to stay there, it was night so there was only two of them, a couple of feet beside me. At one point, can't remember why I needed them. They were asleep so I had to bang on my bed to get their attention. This, I found troubling, I wondered if it occurred all the time, what if there was a real issue, good God... I tried to sleep and in the morning the day shift came, still woozy, the bevy of nurses had other plans for me. They were busy texting, cruising the internet and gabbing and giggling as if I did not exist, sigh...What an experience, you want to say something, anger is evident but you feel like a train wreck and so many emotions, glad to be alive and such that what you would normally do, you do not do, confusion is evident.

It was time now to go back to my room and find out the details of the operation and what happened while I was, ummm, comatose. They wheeled me back tubes, IV stands and all. As we entered the room I saw my kids’ faces light up, their joy was evident. They rushed towards me and hugged and kissed me in their glee with my wife standing watching with a big smile on her face. Well, seems I made it, this far at least. I did however notice that there was something different, I had a tube sticking out of my nose, another out of my belly and yet another out of my penis along with IV lines. I kind of noticed it before but when coming out of this, I think you slowly start to rationalize things, it is not all there in the beginning, slowly reality comes, I can only imagine what the ramifications to some are because of this. In my life i would have never imagined myself in this situation, just stuff you see in the movies but you never think that it could be you and then one day, the haze goes away and there you are. As I started to rationalize...the pain came, it was intense but not when I realized I had three holes in my abdomen, yikes!

The time went by and I was in and out for a while. Finally, the surgeon came to tell me all about what had occurred, to fill the gaps. He took out his phone and he had graphic pictures to show me what was done. To most it would be something they really do not want to see, I am exposed to this daily so to me it was quite interesting. He started to explain, he had thought that it was an operation for a stricture and easily done in one hour. However once he went into my abdomen, he found that not only were all my intestines stuck to the wall of my abdomen but, as well, they were twisted like a cord from the old spiral telephone handsets we all used to have. What he had to do was cut the intestines away from the wall and then untwist them all. All this with a camera, he really did not have a desire to cut me open and for that I was ever grateful...I knew that it would take much longer to recover from a slice in the abdomen. In any case he said it took four hours instead of one hour because he had to be careful not to cut into my intestines. The only thought that went through my head was my wife and kids, here I go on for an hour operation and four hours later they were still waiting, my God, I would have been beside myself if I were them with no word from anyone, must have been incredibly traumatic.

I spent another four days in the hospital recovering, I could not get up or move much for at least a day. Every time I tried, the pain was unbearable even though the surgeon would yell at me to move around, you must, he would say, easy for him to say...I would get up, walk about 100 feet and barely make it back but with every couple of hours I walked further, the pain, the lethargy was incredible. So now it was time to take the tubes out, more fun, I thought. The one in my nose was not that bad but the feeling was weird sort of like the feeling when you drink and eat too much and need to expel it all, but boy, it felt so good when out. The one in my abdomen was the weirdest, you see, what I did not know is that it was a drainage tube and was all the way on the other side of my abdomen, so when it was pulled out it felt like there was something in my abdomen scurrying to the other side. The feeling is hard to explain but not something I want to feel again, very weird. The tube that was in my penis put all others to shame though, that is where I will leave that, men can imagine but I think, really would not want to. After all that, hourly my faithful son would take me for a walk and watch that I do not fall and then carefully escort me back to my room, under excruciating pain, you continue, step by step, never thinking with so much suffering it will get better, but it does, that is the beauty of our bodies, they are remarkable in their ability to heal even under the most extreme of circumstances.

It was now time to go home and my last meeting, for now, with the surgeon. We sat down and I asked him, so tell me, "what I have to look forward to?". Well, he said, "your insides are ok but all the veins that were blocked are still blocked. You have ascites in you abdomen because your portal vein has shut down but there are some varices that have grown to take its place so there is blood going to your organs, unfortunately the liver can't take the load so there will always be fluid in your abdomen." "Great, so I will always be nine months pregnant?""Yes, he said and as well you will have to have the fluid removed on occasion." When? I asked, he shook his head and said, "when needed." He continues, "you will also have a possibility of infection due to the fluid." "What then?" I asked, "then we have to do something about it.", was his reply. Anything else I said, yes he said, "you can't have more than a litre and a half of fluid every twenty four hours." WHAT! Good grief, I normally have at least four liters and am still thirsty. To top it all off he said that I have to stay away from any strenuous exercise, can't lift anything more than a mouthful of food and not eat greens because I have to be on a high dose of warfarin. I asked what will be the outcome, well he said, you will live for a while. Great, how long? Don't know he said...Ok, is there a chance of recovery? His voice changed as if he was going to lie and said, maybe but I doubt it, but always stay positive he said. I said, why am I taking warfarin, he said warfarin will not get rid of your existing clots, nothing can do that but it will keep you from developing new ones. I want those of you reading this to remember this line in particular and what this highly skilled professional teacher of surgery said to me. It will make sense to you why I say this, when we conclude this story...

Medical Ozone Therapy Personal Testimonial Part Two

Continued from Part One Here ....Medical Ozone Therapy Personal Part One

At this point, I was at a loss as to what to do and still had no clue from anyone why this was occurring or what had even started it. Doctors would endlessly speculate one thing or another, the most reasonable suspicion was that I was suffering from Thrombophilia. This news, I received from a Hematologist who had speculated based on the reports but could not be certain unless I was to undergo some outrageously expensive tests. The one thing that he did tell me was that there was no cancer...at least! In any case, I had to go to specialists to figure out why and what to do about it because the prognosis was not that good. Apparently there was no way to recover from what was occurring and Thrombophilia whether acquired or genetic is permanent. As those of you that have been in similar situations can attest to, what goes on in your mind when you are given a death sentence is inexplicable at best; I was in complete and utter shock. Is that it, I had thought, all I get on this earth is 58 years of life, too short, I am not ready, can't be, just some of the thoughts that speed by like a train in your head. let alone the thoughts about those around you that love and care for you.

For those that do not know what Thrombophilia is, just click on the word, it will go to a link for you. I will talk about this more later but so that you know, once diagnosed, one needs to be on Warfarin so as to stop the creation of clots. For me, it was a rather high dose at that. So yet, another bit of great news, now I have to take rat poison as well, just dandy, I thought. No use in denial, let's try to do the best we can, I have a young family and need to take care of this, if not for me, then for them. Strange how the motivation comes in but it does, to some it may be a different one but we all seem to have a reason for survival at first and really just want to do what we think is best given our set of circumstances. in the beginning, I notice that there are two mechanisms that kick in, the survival one and the one that says, what's the use and you go from one to the other. You tend to question everything including yourself, sometimes you withdraw and do not want anyone around, sometimes you want to enjoy every minute, it is certainly a very trying time and one that most people would not understand if they did not go through it. I did not understand it, but I certainly do now!

On to the next step, I wanted to find specialists in abdominal diseases, went through quite a few, looked at experts in their field, went and sat down with them and discussed options, probabilities and scenarios. Most, if not all, would not accept what had to be done, too risky they said. We have no clue what this is, they said. We don't know the causative factor, they said. All this sound familiar to any of you? Finally found one that looked at my paperwork and tests and said that surgery must be done but I would have a 50/50 chance of survival. 

A couple of days later I met with the surgeon directly, a brilliant surgeon who had been trained in the UK and actually teaches abdominal surgery. I thought to myself that he must know what he is doing and we sat down and discussed what needed to be done. I found him positive in his skills at surgery but not of my outcome. After reviewing my records and scans, he said that it was difficult to see what was going on as there are so many intestines and a CT scan will not show if there is a blockage or a stricture. They do however suspect it is a stricture that needs to be corrected. What he would do is go in with three holes, called a laparoscopy and try to remove the stricture, should not be hard to do, he said.  He continued, "That of course only solves the problem with your intestines and not any other issue." So, even if I survive the surgery, I still have the problem? "Yes, he said and as well your portal vein is blocked and even though you have collaterals that have taken over you will have an issue of ascites in your abdomen." What??? For how long? "Well, for good, that will not go away, veins do not un-block and there is nothing that can do for that." So, i will have a belly full of water all the time? "Yes, I am afraid so." BUT...Here it comes I thought. First, he said, we have to hospitalize you since you are on warfarin and put you on heparin until your INR subsides. Then you have to have an IVC filter installed so that you do not have issues during surgery or rather lower the possibility of an issue. This was just getting better and better, I thought. O.M.G., that hit me like a brick! Tears and a cry that I have never had engulfed me, that was it I thought, it's over!

The questions in my mind started to flow, what is the possibility that I may not survive, I wondered? With a smile he said, "Well, I will do the best I can but I am only human." Great I thought, not really what I wanted to hear. So, off to the hospital room I went, once again and on the IV's, but different ones. This time there was a twist though, apparently my stomach had become distended and there was a need to take out what contents they could, mostly fluid but it was necessary because it was not going to go far. The course of action is to stick a tube through your nasal passage down into the stomach and let whatever is in there either drain or be sucked out. If any of you had to have this done you would not need anyone to explain the discomfort and torture of this procedure. Tried as he may, the skilled surgeon could not make it work, it just did not want to go down, gagging, tears, pain, and it was one of the most awful experiences I had ever been through. Finally, giving up and dispensing with the torture, I was sedated and the tube was implanted. Talking was weird, in fact, it was all weird, can't swallow right, something intrusive in both your nose and throat. Certainly one of those things that you cant explain unless you go through it.

The days went by in the hospital, of course i could not eat any solid food, so I was put on nutrition which consisted of these drinks with God only knows what is inside. They kept bringing me food and it was incredibly yummy, my kids would eat it and at least enjoy in my place. I was monitored every few hours, blood was drawn and we waited for the INR to go down, I looked like a heroin addict due to all the needle pricks and at one point my veins were so collapsed that they had to call in an anesthesiologist to find a vein. During this time I lost 30 kilos or 66 pounds, that would be  almost the weight of my son who also noted that my stomach looked like a yoga ball or as if I was nine months pregnant. My wife, my dear wife, i can only imagine what went on with her in those days. She had later told me that she thought that was it; I can only speculate what this did to my family who were with me whenever they could be, closer now than we have ever been. Nothing was a priority anymore, this sickness ad taken over all our lives. My wife and kids even slept with me in my hospital room, going back and forth from school, college, the house and my side. We were all spent and all looked pretty bleak for this family.

Finally, after five days of what seemed an eternity of torture, it was acceptable for me to have an IVC filter installed. I was fortunate in that I had the best cardiovascular surgeon available doing this procedure, again, one that teaches cardiovascular surgery and technique. First we had to do an ultrasound to check my veins. While we did an ultrasound I asked the technician to check on my right leg because for a long time it was prone to edema, he did and to his amazement and mine he said that that the main vein in my leg was so solid that it felt like concrete. When you discover that you are sick and begin to focus on your sickness instead of the many other pressures of everyday life you begin to dissect your time on this planet into little sections and notice things that you really never gave any thought to, this was one of them. He also said this has been an issue for a long time and that it was completely blocked from my pelvis down to the end of my leg and had been for a while. How long I asked. He said, many, many years...Now things were starting to make sense, the lightbulb went off in my head!

To be continued...

NOTE: Since I started with this story, I have had many people asking questions about ozone therapy, medical ozone and so on. Also, questions about why, what and everything in-between. Please wait until you read all of it, I believe that most of the questions will be answered.