Jaundice-Severe Jaundice

During the next two weeks my health deteriorated. The itching was so intolerable that despite heavy dosages of Ambien I could not sleep. I could not bathe, could not tolerate direct sun or the breeze on my skin, and could barely concentrate on anything other than the terrible itching long enough to have a conversation with anyone. My father, a physician in Reno, Nevada, realized something was very wrong and immediately arranged for me to see a gastroenterogist at UCLA Medical Center (thanks Dad). They found that the stent placed in Phoenix was too small, had slipped into my hepatic ducts, and was totally blocking the flow of bile. My bilirubin count was 29 (normal is 1, and 60 equals death), my hair had begun to crack and fall out, and my body was covered from head to toe with scabs from scratching. The next morning the stent was fished out of my hepatic ducts and replaced with a much larger version.

The physicians at UCLA told me that in a 24-year old man, a stricture of the common bile duct was indicative of either a cancer or an autoimmune disease known as Primary Sclerosing Colangitis (PSC). They said there was no treatment other than a liver transplant. It would take approximately ten years for my liver to reach such a compromised state. While I waited for this to happen, they told me I should just go ahead and live my life, get married, and start a family because a liver transplant wouldn't prevent me from enjoying the life I would create. Easy for them to say. I was dejected, depressed, extremely frightened and still in significant pain.

One day a good friend (to whom l owe my life, thanks Zach!) brought me a tray of wheat grass, a manual juicer, and a book about wheat grass. I read the testimonials in the book, made some wheat grass juice, and three days later, after doing some research, I was on a plane to West Palm Beach. I stayed at Hippocrates for two weeks, and began to feel better. Before I left, I had one of those eureka moments where I had the feeling that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. I continued the program at home. Six weeks later I flew back to UCLA to get the stent replaced and undergo a liver biopsy. The doctors said not to get my hopes up because the odds of the stricture being naturally repaired and my liver not showing signs of permanent damage were very slim. PSC was not something that would go away. When I awoke there was no new stent in my body, no sign of any damage to my common duct, and I was told that it looked as if there had never been a stricture at all. When the biopsy was performed on my liver, there was nothing abnormal found. The physicians at UCLA were not interested in knowing where I had been or what I had done and dismissed my case with nothing more than instructions to get blood work done at regular intervals.

For the last two years I have been symptom free, my blood levels are normal, and I have been getting healthier and stronger every day with the Hippocrates lifestyle.