“Now It Is Only Mia and Jehovah”
BY May 1991, my body had already signaled that something was wrong. After walking far or using my bicycle a long distance, I would feel severe pains in my arms and legs, and my joints would swell. When I attended the wedding of one of my brothers in July 1991, I got sick. Following this, I was bedridden most of the time, and I developed strange red spots on my face and my body.
My mother took me to a doctor, who rushed me to a hospital near our home in Askim in Norway. The diagnosis was reduced renal function and high blood pressure. My hemoglobin level was only 7.3 grams per deciliter, compared with the normal 11.5 to 16. After two days I was transferred to a larger hospital with a special ward for treatment of kidney diseases. After seeing the results of several blood tests, the doctor concluded that I was suffering from systemic lupus erythematosus and that my immune system was producing antibodies that were attacking my blood and kidney tissues. I was given corticosteroids and chemotherapy.
Since both the disease and some of the medication break down the blood, the matter of blood transfusion became an issue. I mustered up all my strength and said: “I am a dedicated and baptized Witness, and I do not want blood.” (Genesis 9:4; Acts 15:28, 29) The doctor then talked to my mother in private, and my mother explained that we would like to use alternatives to blood transfusion. He said that he was willing to respect my stand and that he would do his utmost to help me.
The medical record, of which we later received a copy, says: “The patient is of age and is clear and informed. Therefore, one finds it necessary to respect the patient’s view.” It also states: “The medical ward is set on respecting the patient’s decision not to accept blood, even to the consequence of her death.”
Medical Treatment
During the following days, various therapies were tried to reduce my blood pressure and hence to ease the strain on the kidneys. My body would not tolerate the medication, and all I remember about that time is vomiting again and again. Occasionally I felt very depressed, and my parents and I often prayed to Jehovah for help and strength. After a month in the hospital, I was allowed to go home for a weekend. Later, during a second leave, I had a major epileptic seizure followed by four minor ones. The disease was affecting my central nervous system. I was rushed back to the hospital.
The doctors decided to provide alternative treatment. Plasma was extracted from the blood, and thus antibodies attacking my blood cells and kidney tissues were removed. I was then given injections of Ringer’s solution together with albumin. I had discussed this treatment with the doctors and gave them written permission to administer it.a Despite this treatment my condition worsened. I also gave them permission to treat me with immunoglobulins, but at the time they did not administer these.b
My kidney function was greatly reduced. My serum creatinine was 682, compared with the normal 55 to 110. My blood pressure remained high, and my hemoglobin stayed between 5 and 6 grams per deciliter. One day the number of platelets was 17,000 per cubic millimeter of blood (the normal number being from 150,000 to 450,000), highly increasing the risk of hemorrhages. Fortunately, the number of platelets immediately started to increase. The next day the number was 31,000, and the increase continued.
Loving Support
The hospital personnel were impressed by all the flowers, letters, cards, and telephone calls I received from loving Christian brothers and sisters all over Norway. They wondered how an 18-year-old could have so many friends. This gave us an opportunity to tell them about our Christian hope and Jehovah’s loving organization.—John 5:28, 29; Revelation 21:3, 4.
In the meantime, the Hospital Liaison Committee of Jehovah’s Witnesses was working hard to acquire more information on the treatment of lupus. From our Norwegian branch office we received an article that had been printed in a medical journal. It described two complicated cases of systemic lupus erythematosus in which immunoglobulins were administered to two young women—with good results. During a conference with the doctors, my parents asked them to read the article to see if the information could be helpful in my case. The doctors had different opinions on what to do. There was concern, for example, about the limited amount of information on side effects of treatment with immunoglobulins.
Pressure to Accept Blood
By then I had been hospitalized for almost eight weeks. One night I felt acute pain in my stomach, and there was fecal blood from internal hemorrhages. A surgeon was contacted. He said I needed immediate surgery and blood, otherwise I would die within a few hours. This surgeon told my sister, who was sitting with me, that she had better persuade me to accept blood or she would be responsible for my death. This made me angry, for the decision to refuse blood transfusion was my own.
The doctors wanted to speak to me alone to ensure that the decision was really mine and that I was fully aware of what they believed would be the consequences of refusing blood. After 15 minutes they were convinced that I was not going to change my mind. Instead of operating, the doctors administered antibiotics to fight the infection.
On September 30, the day following the discussion with the doctors, my hemoglobin count declined from 6.5 to 3.5. I was moved to the intensive care unit. I was so weak that I needed a face mask to supply me with oxygen. Even though I was more or less conscious all the time during this critical phase, I cannot recall anything. So what happened during the next few days was later related to me by my family and two Christian elders.
My Life in the Balance
At this time the doctors agreed to try administering intravenous injections of immunoglobulins. From October 9 to 11, I was given one dose of six grams of immunoglobulins a day. I was unable to control my urination and evacuation, and the nurses were constantly changing the bedclothes. My hemoglobin count kept declining. The medical record says: “At the lowest her hemoglobin count was measured 1.4, after which she had additional melena [stools containing blood], and it was decided to abstain from taking additional blood counts. At this time she was practically moribund [dying].”
The doctors had by now abandoned all hope of recovery, stating that if I did survive, I would have brain damage and perhaps also be partially paralyzed. They were so sure that there was nothing else that could be done that on October 12 it was decided to halt all active treatment and just administer fluids. My father, who continuously encouraged me to keep fighting, was sitting at my bedside, saying: “Now it is only Mia and Jehovah.”
There was always someone from the congregation at the bedside with my family during this critical period. One of them related: “On Saturday evening, October 12, no one believed Mia would survive the night. But Sunday morning she was still alive. In the afternoon her breathing was heavy, and everyone expected this to be the end. The whole family gathered around her bed. She inhaled deeply and, after what seemed like an eternity, exhaled. Her parents suffered the greatest pain parents can suffer—seeing their dear child slowly drifting away. Her father said we should all turn to Jehovah in prayer. We talked quietly afterward, hoping that Mia would not have to suffer long.
“But Mia did not die. The doctors and the nurses had never seen anything like it—someone living with such a low blood count. The hemorrhages stopped, so the situation did not worsen. Sunday night passed, and Mia was still alive.”
A Turning Point
Monday morning, October 14, one of the doctors came to see me. I was dozing and don’t remember the episode. The doctor stood at my bed, and my mother said: “The doctor is here to say good morning.” My reaction was a very audible “hello.” He had not expected that, and he was surprised and moved.
My brain was fine, and I was not paralyzed. Therapy was resumed. I was given erythropoietin and iron dextran intravenously, as well as two daily doses of immunoglobulins. Slowly my condition improved. On October 16 my hemoglobin count increased to 2.6 and on the 17th to 3.0. I kept improving. On November 12 I was discharged from the hospital with a hemoglobin count of 8.0.
We do not know for sure why the destruction of my red blood cells halted or why my blood count increased so rapidly. The injections of immunoglobulins, erythropoietin, and iron dextran evidently played a major part. By the early part of May 1992, my hemoglobin count was a normal 12.3, and it has remained in the normal range.
I am now on maintenance treatment to keep my condition under control, and I am functioning well. On November 28, 1992, I was married to a fellow Christian, and we are now serving Jehovah together. My illness, as well as obeying Jehovah’s law on blood, has drawn me closer to Jehovah. Now I look forward to serving him with all my strength throughout eternity.—As told by Mia Bjørndal.
[Footnotes]
a This procedure is known as plasmapheresis and involves an external circulation of the blood. The decision to use this procedure is left to the individual’s conscience, as discussed in The Watchtower of March 1, 1989, pages 30 and 31.
b The decision to use immunoglobulins, which contain a tiny fraction of blood, is left to the individual’s conscience, as discussed in The Watchtower of June 1, 1990, pages 30 and 31.