This is why the medical cartels need to be destroyed. They cannot be fixed. They are killing people
A story about evil nurses - and a precautionary tale if you have to go into hospital.
When I lived in Brooklyn, my best friend who I grew up with was a nurse. She is one of the kindest, most morally-grounded people I’ve ever known.
When she did her placement, she told me that the cruellest, most sadistic nurses in the hospital she worked in were put into the maternity and paediatrics departments.
I was shocked! After giving birth in Australian hospitals, however (until I was smart enough to birth a home - highly recommended!) I can see that to be the case.
Hospitals - places of torture - not healing
We all know that the hospital system was intentionally murdering people during the pre-jab (and post jab too) period in order to boost the number of deaths that could be blamed on COVID. (See my recent Substack post below to read more about this) But hospital cruelty, malpractice and outright sadism didn’t begin or end with the last 3 1/2 years.
Trying to deal with the anger. Please share your stories.
This morning, I saw THIS video in my Twitter feed from @waynetlc. The subtext read: This was the day before my Mum Louise was declared in such pain and discomfort that she needed to be put on a ventilator and EOL life care started although of which was never discussed with me first. It was the beginning of June 2020 when her hospital shockingly started M…
Australian Hospitals
Survey after survey of the Australian hospital system shows that it is incredibly inefficient and dangerous. See this recent report from 2018 published by the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare. Below are just a couple of tables from this eye-opening survey - the latest of many showing very similar horrendous results from our failing hospital system.
Are ‘health professionals’ trained to be uncaring and sadistic?
There is something very wrong with the way medical professionals are trained. Doctors I know well have told me that they were told never to become emotionally involved in a patient’s well-being or the outcome of their treatment.
These are the most important things for any healer to do - they should have a connection with the person sitting in front of them and want them to get better - want whatever they give them to actually work.
It is this disconnect, I feel, that is at the heart of what is wrong with medicine and why it is unfixable and must be completely torn apart, never to be seen again. We need people who are vested in you getting better - not in you taking as many ‘remedies’ they prescribe as possible regardless of the outcome
Trust your doctor?
The following story was published on Twitter by a journalist living in the UK. I am sharing it here in full. Read it and realise that once you go into hospital, you give up your rights, your freedoms and far too often, your health or your life.
Why we still trust mainstream doctors; why we haven’t seen them on trial for murder and genocide is beyond me. It makes me think that society is under some kind of hypnotic trance where they can’t - or won’t - see what is actually right in front of their faces.
@JacquiDeevoy1 on Twitter
This is a message from a friend who worked for the NHS and was in hospital a while ago after having a major stroke.
She’d told me before about the nasty nurses she’d encountered as a patient in a West Midlands hospital but today she decided to elaborate…
“Have you ever considered why the nursing profession appears to attract lots of very unwell people with various personality disorders? So many seem to be suffering from little Napoleon syndrome. These sick people are given a tiny bit of authority and then they use it to bully, torment and gaslight vulnerable people.
When I was in hospital after having a stroke, I had to contend with a truly evil agency nurse. She only let me use the toilet once in the morning and then again after the evening meal. I was made to wait all day before I could pee. One time, this sadistic nurse looked me in the eyes and instructed me to wet myself in my wheelchair.
While I was on the stroke ward, three nurses were dismissed for gross misconduct. They’d been taking bets on which patients were going to commit suicide during their shift. (My GP had heard what happened to me so she came to the ward and then made a formal complaint about the staff.)
One of my former colleagues - a good friend - was doing a placement in the hospital when I was there and she told me about all the other shocking things that were going on. She would have loved to have blown the whistle but sadly, before she had the chance, she dropped dead of a heart attack. She was only in her 30s.
I’ll never go into hospital again. I’d rather die than be at the mercy of these delusional evil-doers. I’m terrified about getting ill but I’m more terrified of the nurses.”
I’d like to add that not all nurses are bad but my friend believes it’s important to emphasise that several she encountered were positively psychopathic. She wanted to speak up because she knows many patients aren’t believed when they report the wrongdoings of nurses - no one wants to accept that the people who are supposed to be caring for us can be that cruel - and wants them to know that they’re not alone.
My friend wants to remain anonymous for now. When she is fully recovered, she may feel more inclined to show her face.
This is not the exception. From my experience of the hospital system, these nurses are the rule. One thing the COVID situation did was very quickly and effectively remove all health professionals from the system who cared about patients, would think twice before doing something that would harm another person or wouldn’t just ‘follow orders’ given by the government or the hospital administration if it would cause harm to someone under their care.
Forewarned is forearmed
If you absolutely MUST go into hospital, please read this information first. And if at all possible, make sure you have a strong and determined advocate with you at every stage of your treatment. One thing the lockdowns effectively did was separate those who care about us from those who would actively participate in our harm and, far too-often, our death. Never be alone.
Read the information from the Medical Error Action Group on how to protect yourself in hospital.
It is sad that we need to do this, but trust must be earned and the medical profession has shown very clearly that they cannot be trusted.
I believe I am suffering post hospital PTSD. I was locked up in isolation for 14 days with supposed covid, having lost my voice so unable to talk, and no way that anyone could visit me to act as a support to my supposed "informed consent". With this disease, our oxygenation goes too low for clear thinking, so we are left having to give consent, with inadequate or no information - so not "informed" and with no alternative treatments suggested, even if we could grasp the implications of the treatments offered. My oxygenation was at 80% for the first 11 days of my hospitalisation, when I had a range of treatments imposed upon me "to save my life" with no request for consent and no opportunity for friends or family to intervene and do the thinking for me. After a while I started refusing offered treatments just to be bloody minded. At no time did anyone ever discuss with me the long term effects of anything they were giving me or doing to me, and at no time did anyone offer any alternatives. I eventually texted someone from outside to send me in some nutraceuticals (which they left at reception for me) which I started taking secretly, without their consent, and which clicked in almost immediately, with my symptoms improving rapidly after day 11 of the forced isolation of 14 days. Within 3 days of taking my own medicines, and with the 14 days of covid imprisonment served, I signed myself out against their advice as I knew I was going to die in there.
On the cruel nurses, I experience two monsters amongst mostly nice but mostly "absent" nurses. One - called Vicky - actually left me to die. I was paralysed from the pain killers I had taken (endone), but was mentally awake, and had slid down the bed so the tubes I was attached to were around my neck and strangling me. This monstrous women was trying to do the normal observations, but I could not get my body to wake up to tell her what was wrong. I eventually managed to start thrashing my feet around. She was already angry with me because I had not woken up for her, and she was already shouting at me. When I started thrashing my feet around, she shouted, "what the hell is wrong with you?", and walked away and left me, still strangling on the tubes. Fortunately I got one of my arms back alive and was able to stick my fingers under the tubes to stop the strangulation and slowly the rest of my body woke up and I was able to get free of the tubes. This monstrous creature left me to die. I became afraid of the nights when she was on duty in case something else happened, so when I knew she was on duty, I kept myself awake all night and refused to take the pain killers in case the same thing happened again with her on duty.
In addition the food was indescribable. It was almost all manufactured pap, full of neurotoxins that I had severe reaction to when I ate. My total food intake each day was two Wheatbix, one hard boiled and peeled grey egg sliding around alone in a bowl, two slices of white bread with margarine, and one small bottle of milk for the Wheatbix. I begged a second bottle of milk. to see me through the day. I could not eat anything else without severe reactions to the neurotoxins in the food. The first evening meal after I arrived was a pile of white slop, next to a pile of orange slop and a pile of yellow slop. Many of these meals I did not try to eat. When I did see something that vaguely resembled food, I would try to eat it, only to taste the "salt" and know I would have a severe reaction. Even apparently fresh salad was soaked in something salty. In the two weeks I lost two clothes sizes and was painfully hungry.
In addition, although confined to bed, there was no physio to keep me active. They wanted to jab me with anti-coagulants, which I refused, but gave me no physio to keep my legs and arms, and so my blood, moving. I was too brain dead to realise this was a problem until the night I was thrashing around being strangled. After that I realised I could thrash my legs around to get some movement and exercise. I invented my own bed exercise of scissoring my legs alternated with stamping my feet, although I was too weak to do much of it. Often I was left for 7 or more hours between supposed meals and any sight of a nurse. I had to use bed pans and often I was left with a full bed pan that no-one came to take away - for hours. I asked for two bed pans so I had a backup which initially they refused (even though I had lost control of my bladder and bowels and was evacuating everything I consumed within minutes of consuming it.) I finally pressured enough nurses for a second bed pan, for one to eventually turn up so I no longer had to sit in my own shit to do a shit!
And let's not even mention the post hospital medical "care". Every doctor I have seen since then could be accused of malpractice, if I had the energy to do it. Since then I have accumulated my own emergency kit of things I can test myself with, and things I can take to avoid hospitalisation. It is easy to say, don't go to hospital but hard to resist the panic when you entire body has collapsed and you can't care for yourself. I did collapse once again and get taken to hospital despite my intention never to go again. This time I tested negative to covid and was left sitting in casualty for hours. Luckily the ambo had given me a jab to stop the virtually continuous vomiting and it worked. So after two hours of sitting in a wheelchair in agony, and being told I might have to wait another three or four hours to see someone, I got the nurses to call a cab for me, and went home. At least I had pain killers there to take and could lie down rather than sit, so I decided it was a better option. Later, I got a doctor to prescribe the drug the ambo had given me, that is apparently used for victims of chemo who cannot stop vomiting. It is sitting there ready for the next attack, along with a huge supply of pain killers and natural anti-biotics. Hopefully the next time it happens, if it happens again, I will have the courage to stay home and sit it out, prepared to die if that is what happens.
I am getting all worked up just writing this all down. Although I have recounted bits and pieces of this, It is the first time I have put the abuse side of thing all together like this.
Yes Meryl.
This is gold pure gold. Thank you for this.
Hippocrates Health Centre is wonderful and Elaine Hollingsworth's book "Take Control of Your Health and Escape the Sickness Industry is really helpful but what you have written today is pure gold. Thank you and Go Hippocrates!