Rescued From Near Death by Nonblood Treatment

As told by a staff member of the world headquarters of Jehovah’s Witnesses

IT SEEMED ironic. In February 1991, I had gone to Buenos Aires, Argentina, to help conduct seminars on the use of alternatives to blood transfusions. And now I was near death, bleeding severely internally.

The problem began the week before, when I was in Mexico. I felt some abdominal pain but didn’t think it was serious. A local doctor said that it was common for Americans to encounter stomach problems while visiting the area. He offered medicine to soothe the pain.

While I was flying to Buenos Aires the next day, the pain increased. I felt a burning sensation in the abdomen, and two days later it was like a blazing fire. An injection was administered to combat the pain. This enabled me to finish handling my lectures in the seminar. Afterward, I was taken from the branch of Jehovah’s Witnesses, where my wife and I were staying, to a local hospital. There I was diagnosed as having an ulcer that apparently had recently stopped bleeding.

The diagnosis was somewhat puzzling, since I had never had an ulcer or even the symptoms of one. Anyway, it was hoped that I would recover with bed rest, antacids, and a diet of bland foods. Unfortunately, after returning to the branch infirmary, the bleeding started again.

My stools were black, saturated with blood, and I was as white as a cadaver. Finally, I fainted, accidentally pulling the intravenous tube from my arm. My wife ran down the corridor calling for the nurse.

Surgery or Not?

Two doctors were soon at my bedside. Through an interpreter, they informed me that my hemoglobin had dropped to 6.8 grams per deciliter (normal is about 15). They said they were consulting via telephone with a specialist in nonblood surgery. He was recommending an emergency operation. I inquired about alternatives to surgery.

A gastroenterologist was contacted. He said it was possible to run a scope down my throat to the perforation located in the duodenum, the first part of the small intestine. Once at the bleeding site, a chemical hemostat could be dropped onto the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding.

“What are the chances of success?” I asked.

“About 50-50,” he responded. However, the surgeon said that if the use of the hemostat failed, the delay and loss of blood would probably make it impossible to proceed with the surgery. It seemed I had no choice but to have the operation.

Emotions ran high. My wife and I embraced. Before I left by ambulance for the hospital, a will was made out for me, and I signed it. Our friends felt that I probably wouldn’t survive the surgery.

The Operation

In the operating theater, I was placed on what appeared to be a large glass table. Light pierced from beneath and glared down from above. My anxiety mounted, which must have been obvious, since one of the surgeons approached me. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right,” he said. His warm concern was comforting. Anesthetic was administered through inhalation, and in what seemed a second, I went from dazed, to numb, to unconscious.

I awoke as they were transferring me from a gurney to a regular hospital bed. I began to panic when I felt the extreme pain from the incision and from the tubes in my nose and throat. My wife, along with a friend, comforted me. My raging thirst was lessened by their rubbing water across my lips. I was glad to be alive.

Although I was assured that the operation was a success, my blood count continued to drop. What could be wrong? Examination of my stool revealed that I was still hemorrhaging. The surgeons were sure it was not from the site they had just repaired​—but from where, then?

The doctors felt that I must have ingested some toxic substance that caused a perforation, perhaps in the colon. They said I was too weak to undergo surgery again.

Pressure to Accept Blood

As my blood count kept dropping, the pressure to accept a blood transfusion intensified. The attending nurse said that if she were a doctor, she would just go ahead and give me blood without asking. At about three in the morning, a doctor came to me and said: “You must take blood if you are going to live.”

I explained to him that I was one of Jehovah’s Witnesses and that for both religious and medical reasons, I was not going to accept a blood transfusion. (Leviticus 17:10-14; Acts 15:28, 29) He was visibly upset, but I attributed his attitude to his not understanding and respecting my firm position.

Because of the mounting pressure, as well as other conditions in the hospital, I asked to be discharged. Soon I was returned by ambulance to the infirmary at the branch.

Successful Lifesaving Treatment

I asked the doctor there, one of Jehovah’s Witnesses, to confirm to me that he had administered EPO (erythropoietin), a synthetic hormone that stimulates bone marrow to produce red blood cells at an accelerated rate. He said that he had. Of course, the body still needs the basic building blocks in order to produce healthy red blood cells. These building blocks are folic acid, vitamin B, and especially iron. Iron dextran (Imferon) administered intravenously is the fastest way to supply needed iron, and I asked for it.a

However, Imferon was not available in Argentina. It was difficult to locate even in the United States, since most of it had been shipped to the Middle East because of the Persian Gulf war. Yet, some was finally located, and immediately it was entrusted to one of Jehovah’s Witnesses who was on his way to Argentina.

By this time my hemoglobin measured only 4. Knowing that taking excessive blood samples can contribute to anemia, I told the medical technician who came to the branch that I would no longer allow him to take blood. He objected: “We must take it if we are to know what is going on.”

“You know what is going on,” I replied. “I’m bleeding, and what is the most precious substance in my body?”

“Blood,” he acknowledged.

“And I’ve decided for now not to give any more of mine,” I responded. How much lower my blood count fell is not known.

That night I prayed fervently to Jehovah, petitioning his direction and expressing my hope to awake the next day. I did, but I sensed that my life-​force was leaving me. Death seemed imminent. My hemoglobin count normally is about 17.2 grams per deciliter, being at the high end of the acceptable range, so I had lost more than 75 percent of my blood. Something further had to be done.

That morning I requested a discussion regarding my treatment with doctors caring for me. Vitamin K, important for blood coagulation, was not being administered, but now they immediately agreed to begin giving it. Next I asked: “Could any of the drugs you are administering be causing or contributing to the bleeding?”

“No,” they responded.

“Are you sure?” I pressed.

Early the following morning, one of the surgeons came to me and said that upon further investigation they found that one of the drugs could very well be contributing to the bleeding. Its use was suspended immediately. The doctors’ willingness carefully to listen to me as a patient and analyze my treatment increased my respect for them.

At my request, medical literature was brought to my bedside, and my wife and I began to research it. One article spoke of a chemical hemostat, a medicine that arrests the flow of blood. No sooner had we located it than Dr. Marcelo Calderón Blanco, a fellow Witness, came in and announced his desire to use a similar product! The preparation was administered to me in the same fashion that an enema is given. About the same time, the Imferon arrived from the United States and was given to me intravenously.

Now we could only wait. Within the day, I began to feel stronger. Three days later I allowed them to take some blood. Amazingly, the hemoglobin had risen to 6! Yet, when it had been checked five days earlier, it was 4 and still dropping! The doctors were skeptical. They ordered another test. It confirmed the first one. The EPO and Imferon were working!

The technician at the clinic who had tested my blood called and said that the doctor must have administered a blood transfusion. “No one’s blood count can rise that fast without a blood transfusion,” he insisted. The doctor assured him that no blood had been given. “What regimen is being followed that elevates the blood level that quickly?” he wanted to know. He was informed about the use of EPO and Imferon.

Dr. Amilcar Fernández Llerena, one of my non-​Witness doctors, visited me the day the blood test was received. After examining me, he said in amazement: “I give you a new name​—Lazarus.” (Compare John 11:38-44.) I had to muster all my strength to hold back the tears.

Dr. Llerena said: “You can thank your God, Jehovah, for being alive.” I asked him what he meant. “If you had been a smoker, drug abuser, or heavy drinker,” he answered, “you would not have survived the operation. But since your body is clean and strong from obeying God’s law, you survived.”

The information I used in my case was mostly what we had been teaching the Hospital Liaison Committees at seminars in North America, Europe, and Latin America. The emphasis of the program is on successful alternatives that can be used in nonblood medical management. Happily, information regarding these alternatives is available to physicians through a Hospital Liaison Committee, more than 800 of which now exist around the world.

I am hopeful that my experience will help other Witnesses who seek nonblood treatment. The hospital where I received surgery later contacted the Argentina branch of Jehovah’s Witnesses and said that they now realized we had a successful regimen for treating patients with nonblood products and that they would be happy to cooperate with us in the future.

[Footnotes]

[Picture on page 13]

Leaving the hospital after my surgery