Richard Rodriguez
Hepatitis C Patient
Richard Rodriguez enlisted in the military in peacetime during the 1970’s, though he was fully prepared to die for his country if necessary. Years later, he dodged bullets in the original Desert Storm conflict, and he lived to tell about it. Richard had thought he had exited the service unscathed. But decades after the fact, doctors discovered Richard had not been as lucky after all.
Soon after retirement, Richard began experiencing excruciating lower back pain. Assuming he had pulled a muscle or had developed some unknown disk injury, he tried to rest and recuperate, but the pain only got worse. Almost a month went by with no improvement, so Richard made an appointment with the VA hospital. Military physicians discovered problems with Richard’s blood tests and they found he had an enlarged spleen. They noted that he had worked with toxic chemicals during active duty, explaining the cause of his illness. Richard was told he had cancer of the spleen and lymphoma. The spleen was removed immediately, but unforeseen complications nearly ended Richard’s life right then.
Floating in and out of consciousness, Richard’s memory is reinforced by his wife’s recollections of that terrible moment when the doctor informed them both that the spleenectomy had been performed in error. He had been rushed to the ICU after surgery, and Pam was very worried. It was obvious something was very wrong. Then the doctor rushed in apologetically. He said, “Richard, I made a terrible mistake . . .” He went on to explain the details. The good news was that Richard did not have lymphoma or cancer of the spleen. The bad news was that Richard had Hepatitis C with progressed cirrhosis, (hardening) of the liver. Richard grabbed the doctor’s arm, asking, “Doc, how long do I have?” The doctor was solemn. “You might not make it out of the hospital . . I’m going to try to get you on the transplant list, but I’m afraid it’s too late.”
The intense psychological tension was slightly relieved an hour later with a much different second opinion. The second physician contradicted the first and called the life-threatening cirrhosis “mild”. Pam and Richard were perplexed with the mixed messages. On one hand, Richard had nearly died and was terribly sick, but perhaps it was the first doctor’s misdiagnosis that was to blame for his sudden, drastic decline. But the second doctor’s opinion was such a contrast with the first, they decided they should consult a specialist.
Richard found a third doctor who put him on interferon therapy three times a week. There is no way to adequately describe the terrible side-effects of chemotherapy, whether in cases of cancer or Hepatitis C. The effects are somewhat similar. Richard injected the drugs himself nearly every other day for a whole year. Every one of those times he was driven to bed with skin-crawling irritations and gut-wrenching nausea. The injection sites were very painful, turning red, puffy, and sore for days. Richard’s tongue became so swollen he could barely swallow a few drops of water. Even the thought of eating solid food made him wretch. He was in sheer agony three times a week, and merely miserable on the other four.
The doctor suggested medical marijuana to help Richard cope with the side-effects of the interferon. He knew that the interferon treatment was like radiation poisoning intended to fight the disease before it killed the host. The doctor knew that no other anti-emetic drug was as effective as marijuana, and any other drug would cause further destruction of the liver. Because it is up to the liver to filter alien substances out of the bloodstream, any pharmaceutical pill would cause greater harm than good by adding harsh synthetic chemicals to his bloodstream. Hepatitis C patients must refrain from all drugs, many common foods, and especially alcohol that causes further liver damage. Marijuana is often recommended because it can be ingested without involving the stomach when nauseated, and because cannabis compounds are known to be relatively harmless to the liver and other organs.
Richard lost his job. He lost his appetite. He lost dozens of pounds. He also lost all his hair, and a little of his mind. Interferon is a terrible drug—to be used only under life-threatening circumstances. Richard was still terribly spaced out and severely ill even six months after the first year of interferon treatment ended. He and Pam thanked God, their doctor, and the voters of their state who all helped put medical marijuana within the reach of those patients like Richard who are in such desperate need of this remarkable herbal remedy. Without medical marijuana, it is quite likely that Richard would have died. With marijuana, Richard is now on the road to some sense of stability in his difficult life.
Richard is definitely on the transplant list, but even if his name came up today, a new liver would add a new set of problems, and it would not cure his disease, but merely buy him another ten years or so before the new liver was ruined by the same blood-borne disease that is now destroying his original liver. Although it is far less well-publicized than AIDS, almost one quarter as many Americans are infected with Hepatitis C, and they are all dying. Richard never used illegal drugs, and he never had a sexual partner with the deadly disease. Chances are, he contracted the silent killer through the multi-use jet-injectors used to inoculate solders during the 1970’s when Hep C ran rampant through blood banks and other medical institutions. Richard had no idea. They taught him how to kill, and how to survive in combat. But they never taught him how to beat the slow bullet they shot into his arm—the malingering shadow of death called Hepatitis C.
