whaleto

I was told I had only six months to live. But 17 years later I am
alive and kicking thanks to vitamins, cyanide and (ouch!) coffee
enemas

Daily Mail April 15, 2003

When 68 year old Don Factor, son of cosmetics tycoon Max Factor,
discovered he had one of the most aggressive forms of cancer, he
dicided to pursue unorthodox methods to beat it—despite being told
that he would probably not see out the end of the year. Don, a writer
and artist, is married to Anna, a painter, and they live in Netting
Hill, West London. Here, he tells LUCY MAYHEW of his battle with the
disease.

THERE are survival studies in cancer — at Stage One there's hope; at
Stage Two there is an outside chance of remission. When extensive
cancer was detected in my lung, liver and spine in 1986,1 was at Stage
Four, where survival rates are almost zero.
My only warnings were lower back pain — which I put down to sitting at
the computer for too long — and a kind of chronic dyspepsia, or
constantly feeling yucky.
My wife, Anna, persuaded me to go to our GP in the Cotswolds where we
then lived, even though I thought I just had a tummy bug. He
recommended that I saw a Harley Street specialist in London
immediately.
He said Sir John Batten was top in his field but I didn't ask what
field that was. My mind had silently raised the dreaded 'C' word —
cancer — but I didn't want to put it into words.
I went to see Sir John a couple of days later. He put me through some
invasive and extremely nasty tests. I had a colonoscopy, an
examination of my small intestine and, worst of all, a liver biopsy —
removing a sample of tissue by syringe—which was more like being hit
in the belly by a mortar shell.
Afterwards, I was warned not to move much or walk for 24 hours for
fear of bleeding. • Three days later Sir John called me. He
apologised over the phone — actually all he did was apologise. Over
and over, he kept saying: 'I'm terribly sorry.'
Then he revealed that I had small cell carcinoma of the lung — with
secondary tumours on my liver. I was told: 'We could give you
chemotherapy, giving a 50:50 chance.
I realised that I wasn't being given any options to live.
I felt as though a huge hole had opened and I was tumbling down into
it. I was only 51 and this was panic time.
BUT it was a case of getting through tears and shock, and then
acknowledging that something must be done.
I smoked my last ever Marlboro cigarette. Before the diagnosis I had
smoked 40 a day, so in a way I was getting my comeuppance. But I knew
I would not accept this death sentence.
Anna and I had been interested in alternative health for years but I
always felt they worked best used alongside orthodox treatments.
We had once attended an impressive lecture by Dr Ernesto Contreras,
the founder of the Oasis of Hope, a Mexican clinic that practiced an
alternative regime called Metabolic Therapy.
Ernesto had worked as a pathologist at Boston General Hospital,
Massachusetts. This was in the early Fifties, when they were doing the
first studies using chemotherapy on children with leukaemia.
The chemotherapy agent was derived from mustard gas and the doctors
couldn't tell whether the children were dying from leukaemia or the
treatment.
Ernesto became so disillusioned he returned to Mexico to dedicate his
life to investigating less brutal treatments, leading to the
developement of his metabolic Therapy. His theory is to build the
patient up—make them as healthy as possible so they can fight tumour
growth with their own immune system.
The treatment includes an intravenous drip of vitamins, with massive
doses of vitamin C, minerals and other compounds, daily injections of
a substance called laetrile (vitamin B17) and pancreatic enzymes —
plus coffee enemas for, thankfully, only the first five days to
detoxify the body.
Coffee enemas help to stimulate the flow of bile from the liver, which
prompts the body to de-toxify.
Just a week after my diagnosis, we flew to the clinic in Playas de
Tijuana, Mexico. By the time I arrived, another tumour had emerged in
the vertebrae that links to the sciatic nerves which run from the
spine to the little toe. This caused excruciating pain.
Although the cost of the Metabolic Therapy was about $20,000 (about
£12,750), it was considerably less than private orthodox treatment in
the U.S. or the UK.
Dr Ernesto Contreras was to be my physician. He looked at my medical
records and ordered some more tests.
There were 20 or 30 patients being treated and he explained that
success rates were about 30 per cent — all for people who had
previously been labelled untreatable or terminal.
An important feature of the treatment at the Oasis of Hope is that you
bring along a companion. Anna's encouragement was vital, especially at
the start when I was in so much pain and was losing a lot of weight. I
was hospitalised for just under four weeks.
There has been substantial controversy around the intravenous and oral
use of laetrile — a compound found in apricot kernels.
LAETRILE (vitamin B17) contains a cyanide compound. People panic when
they hear that, thinking of poison. But research shows that the
cyanide compound is unlocked only when it comes into contact with an
enzyme occurring in abnormal amounts at cancer cell sites, destroying
them.
But there is still a dearth of controlled clinical studies, primarily
because it is an unpatentable substance — meaning no one is prepared
to foot the bill for research.
Of course, B17 alone is not a magic formula, it's a valuable component
of a wide-ranging therapy. For years it was dismissed as a hocus-pocus
formula, but I believe it's beginning to gain recognition under the
name ofAmygdalin.
My surgeon Dr Francisco Contreras, Ernesto's son, performed one
operation on me to insert a catheter which would feed the compounds
and chemotherapy directly into my liver.
I was so ill, the doctors decided to give me chemotherapy on my liver,
plus a week of radiation on my spine. Conventional medicine is used at
the clinic, but always as part of a larger context.
Initially, I lived with constant pain and was incredibly bloated.
Apparently, they had never treated anyone who was so riddled with
cancer. But I had a defiant spirit, and they later told Anna and me
that if it hadn't been for that enthusiasm they would have sent me
home immediately.
However, sometimes I did feel ready to give up. Luckily, I was visited
by a psychologist who had worked with the terminally ill. He said I
needn't feel guilty for having dark thoughts. So I accepted them as a
natural feature of healing.
I also made peace with my 16-year-old daughter and 13 year-old son
from my first marriage, who I used to visit only once or twice a year.
I told them I loved them and said if they had any hard feelings about
me having left home, they needed to talk about them because if I died
the feelings would be much harder to deal with. Having done that I
felt magically better. I even asked the doctor to run a test on me
that evening because I felt I had gone into remission — that was after
just one week. I was asked to wait another week when tests did show
that the tumours were shrinking.
My father lent me his apartment in Palm Springs, and for a further
three months, I drove back to Mexico for my monthly chemotherapy.
They said I could go back to Britain if I could find an oncologist
willing to use their compounds and procedures. I took a mass of
bottles back to Cheltenham General Hospital where they continued my
treatment.
AFTER about four sessions, a scan showed no sign of active growth,
just scar tissue in my liver. Three years later, at a check-up in
Mexico, the doctor said: 'As a rule, we don't say cured. But in your
case, it seems pointless to keep writing "in remission".'
Ninety-nine per cent of cancer sufferers in my condition do not
recover. Yet not a single doctor here showed any curiosity as to why I
survived.
There seems to be a cynicism about Ernesto's programme. Metabolic
Therapy is seen as a fringe treatment and most medical people don't
like to discuss regimes that deviate from accepted medical practices
for fear of upsetting the apple cart.
Establishment oncologists say: 'If we can't fix it, nobody can.' I'm
living proof that somebody can.

j

It's well known that there's spontaneous remissions, although small, so
you're one of the 1 % lucky ones.
Now piss off John !
http://www.cancersupporters.com/asc/charter.html
1) inappropriate cross-postings
2) unproven therapies
3) probably more...

You or anyone who replies (to your post) and does NOT remove
alt.support.cancer will be reported.
J

anth

John The guy had 5FU chemo
abuse@nildram.co.uk Report me.
Anth

j

John forgot to mention that, eh?
J

mike radcliffe

I couldn't have said it better,J, MIKE

j

did I surprise you? <g> I learned that from (some of) the best here.
How about...
flog off
scram
skedaddle
take a hike
move along, dogie..
more?
J

trish knight

you made me laugh, Love!! Hope you have a great day today!!

Hugs,
Trish