My prostate PSA level was checked in 2000 and found to be high,”6″, so the Veteran’s Administration doctors did a biopsy on me that was found to be negative and put me on prostate medication. During that same year I had a mild heart attack and was put on high blood pressure medication. Later, in May of 2001 I had a severe pulmonary embolism that began in my left calf and went up to my lung. When the local ambulance crew came to our apartment my condition was not yet diagnosed, but as I was lying on the bed gasping for breath one of the female attendants kept asking me if I had been using drugs (the inference was illegal drugs). I never smoked, don’t drink, and at that time didn’t even drink coffee, however after telling her that I did not use any drugs she continued to pursure that line of questioning. I was very insulted by that kind of treatment, but said nothing. After I was taken to the hospital they ran tests on me and found out that I had had the embolism. They gave me oxygen, put me on intraveneous blood thinners and kept me there for a week. Since my wife and I do not have any health coverage except medicare, which only covers 80% of hospital bills, and we do not have a lot of money, they sent me home after a week and forgot about me, except that we now had some huge ambulance and hospital bills. After I was back home I was now on coumadin along with the blood pressure and prostate medication, which I was getting free of charge through the Veterans Administration. I had monthly checkups at the VA when they drew my blood to check my coumadin level. In November of 2001 the Veterans Administration did another PSA check on me and it had skyrocketed to 19. So in February of 2002 they did another biopsy on me, taking me off of coumadin for ten days before the operation, and they took ten samples for analysis. It turned out negative, but this is when the real horror story began. This second biopsy was nothing like the first. For one thing, although a prostate biopsy is never pleasant, this one hurt, really hurt, and the gave me no anesthetics at all during the procedure. I was in real pain. I could tell by the look on the VA Doctor’s face and the nurse when I turned over on the operating table after they were finished that something had gone wrong, but they said nothing. They sent me home wearing a giant diaper to stop the bleeding. When I arrived home the daiper was soaked in blood, my belly was swollen, probably from internal hemorrhaging, and I could barely urinate, even though I felt a real need to. I was also in intense pain. I called the Veteran’s Administration up and told them of my symptoms, but since it was on a Friday, the hospital was in another town and they only do appointments, they scheduled me to come in on the next Tuesday for an exam. When I arrived, the Doctor merely passed some type of small hand-held scanning device over my abdomen, joked with the nurse about his favorite wine, and pronounced me fit after ten minutes and sent me home. The symptoms did not improve, and for the next four months I grew progressively worse and weaker, having stomach pains along with bleeding and increasing trouble urinating. All this time the Veterans Administration kept me on the coumadin, despite my protests that perhaps I should not be taking it, and on my regular checkups to the VA the doctor would casually joke with me and make light conversation, actually simply patronizing me, and send me home despite my complaints. By late May of last year I could barely walk across the street, my eyes were puffy and I was literally on my death bed and could not urinate at all. My wife took me to the local hospital’s emergency room when it became obvious that I was in critical shape. They checked my records, found out that we didn’t have much money and did not have comprehensive medical insurance, inserted a catheter in me so that I could pass fluid, and sent me home. Well, at least beginning to be able to pass urine freely made me feel better, but I realised that the medical community had pretty much abandoned me to my fate. I knew that unless I did something I was going to die, probably within a matter of days or weeks. I did remember from a couple of years ago I used to listen to a radio Doctor, Dr. Karoh and his nurse Deborah, and also over the years, this must have been from the good Lord, I had listened to and accumulated a lot of material on herbs and natural healing. Now it was time to put some of that knowledge into practice. I immediately took myself off of the coumadin, the blood pressure medication and the prostate medication. I was bedbound and could not do much else, so I want on a water fast. By the fourth day of the fast a lot of old blood came out of the cathetor when I emptied it, and I began to feel better. I was also not feeling so much pain as before. I began to take on other liquids, and ate some solid foods after about a week or so. My health dramatically began to improve, although I was still a very sick person. Two weeks later I kept an appointment with a local urologist, Dr. Barrows, to have the cathetor removed. This particular Doctor was very insulting to me. He was not a VA doctor, but that didn’t make matters any better. When I told him of my condition, he told me that my symptoms were probably all in my head and that my stomach cramps probably had nothing to do with my prostate problem and might be psychological, that a “little bleeding” was normal after a prostate biopsy (for four months, and having to throw out numerous pairs of blood soaked underwear?), but then he turned around and told me that my biopsy could have been a false negative and I could very well have cancer! Then after removing the cathetor and insulting me he told me to go back to the VA. I resolved to stay on a vegetarian diet, and cut out all soft drinks, which I used to drink pretty much with abandon, and I quit my 1-2 gallon a week habit of drinking milk. I went completely vegan, and stayed that way for about eight months. My motto, which I wrote down and put into the front of my Bible, was Hyppocrates aphorism: “Let your food be your medicine, and your medicine your food”. I gradually began to improve, and made some herbal formulas for the prostate and for cancer (although I had never been clinically diagnosed with that), and Praise the Lord, over the past year I have been steadily improving and getting my health back. I did “backslide” a few months back and began drinking soft drinks again and paid for it dearly, rolling around in pain and agony, and learned my lesson. I do eat some turkey and cheese now for protein, but have forsaken all meat and milk. I feel like a new man, have lost thirty pounds, am off all the medications that I was taking, and am looking forward to many long years, if the Lord wills, to a happy, healthy life. God bless you, and I think that you should be called “America’s Doctor” instead of that other character, James in Southern Oregon.
James F.
