After Soliris

Remember these pictures?
We'll call them the Before Soliris pictures.

Well, now his treatment looks like this:

 

That's our couch. In our home. He sits there for about an hour and watches his TV or plays on his phone. The nurse arrives and administers Soliris through an IV and then she packs up and leaves. And he goes on about his business, whatever it may be on that day. He doesn't have the hour and a half drive into Vancouver. He doesn't have to take enough Benedryl to take down a horse, knocking him unconscious for hours and causing the foggy brain he used to have for days afterwards. He doesn't have life-threatening allergic reactions (yes, despite the Benedryl!) or come home and go to bed because he's feeling so miserable, missing whatever family event we'd planned or time spent with his kids.

And here it is. His life-saving medicine. We are so grateful to the drug company for making sure our lives are so much easier and that his access to Soliris won't be cut off. They do this for people all around the world, you know. Give them their million dollar medicine. For free. It kinda makes it hard to demonize the drug company when you think about all the millions of dollars they've donated to the average joe every single year.