Why I am a Crusader in the Anti-Vaccine, Anti-Drug Movement
Why I am a Crusader in the Anti-Vaccine, Anti-Drug Movement
Jim O’KellySeptember 11 2015
When I was young, I believed in the medical profession. Like most people, I was programmed to believe doctors actually cured people, and that drugs were a good thing. This belief was nourished and fed to me by school officials, neighbors, the school nurse, doctor TV shows and well-meaning friends.
What I didn’t know was that they, too, were victims of all the brainwashing promoted by those who make money selling drugs. I really thought that the government protected its people from predators. What a wake up call I had.
My stepfather used to tell me when I was a teenager that this country was all about money. I didn’t believe him and would argue with him all the time. Here was a man with a sixth grade education. What could he know?
A Lesson Painfully Learned
I now realize he had a great deal of common sense. Common sense seems to be educated out of most people today. It took me a long time to realize that the masses were being programmed by the medical profession via the school system, media and drug companies. Then, at some point in my life, I realized that a person could be considered an expert in the professions, the arts and sciences, be intelligent in many subjects, but be totally ignorant about the cause and effect of disease.
Our lifestyle would make us sick and we were taught that germs and viruses were the cause, and all we had to do was to take some drugs and we would be healthy again. This idea was promoted by those who knew that about 80 percent of all “diseases” go away even if you do nothing.
We have been misled by the drug companies for a long time. This article represents about thirty years of my experience with the medical profession explained in just a few pages, and why I have become anti-vaccine, and anti-medical, against practices which promote the antiquated, barbaric treatment of poisoning the body to “prevent disease” and restore health.
What Programmed Parents Do
When my daughter Cathy was about six years old, we took her to a medical doctor for a smallpox shot. Why did I do this? Because everyone said we should do it. Well-meaning but brainwashed friends and relatives said it was a good thing, that it prevented smallpox, a terrible disease.
This is what is still happening today, some 40 years later. More people are aware of the damage vaccines do now because, unfortunately, more children are damaged today, because more shots are being injected into the children.
Shortly after the shots, Cathy’s knees became swollen. She developed a lump in the side of her neck about the size of a small egg. She couldn’t turn her neck all the way to the right and her right index finger wouldn’t bend down all the way. We didn’t match these problems to the shots and no one mentioned it as a possible cause.
So we did what any programmed person would do. We took her to a medical doctor. I had never heard of any other type of doctor at that time. The doctor said she had some fluid on her knees and he would drain them. He then said he was going to inject something called cortisone into her knees. He said this would reduce the swelling and prevent any pain that she might get.
We totally trusted him, as we were programmed by the medical system to do. We had no clue to how dangerous this drug was and the doctor never told us about the effects this drug could cause. Every month we brought her back for another injection.
My First Wake Up Call
This was done for about a year. She was looking worse after each injection. Her eyes were dull. Her color was pale. After all these injections both kneecaps became dislocated. I asked the doctor, “Why was she getting worse?”
He said, “Where did you get your medical license from?” He wasn’t happy with my questions and I wasn’t happy with his answers.
Then he said she had arthritis which he said was “an old people’s disease” and had no clue as to what caused it. When he admitted that he couldn’t cure her condition, I thought that I needed to go to the experts, the Arthritis Foundation. I reasoned that the experts in arthritis would know what to do.
They referred me to Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago. They said it was the best. On admission day, a young doctor came over to my wife and took her by the hand over to a chair and began asking her questions. I walked over to them and he looked up and asked if he could help me. I said, “I am her husband and you should be including me in this conversation.” He got up and left.
In a few minutes, a woman came up to me and said in a very stern tone, “I am Dr. Loraine Pockman, the doctor in charge.” She then informed me that if they needed any information from me, they would let me know, and told me to go wait outside in the hall.
I was angry, but I really thought they could cure my daughter, and so I went outside into the hall. As I turned toward the wall, I spotted a framed newspaper story with her picture in it. The main point in the story was Dr. Pockman saying that she believed that communication between the patient and the doctor was very important.
Early Moments of Despair
That was my first wake up call. I couldn’t believe the way I was being treated. They checked my daughter out and put her legs in a cast. This, they said, would allow the swelling to go down and they could put pins in her knees to hold the kneecaps in place. At that time it sounded sensible, but I no longer trusted that doctor.
This doctor also said that Cathy had arthritis, but they said it could also be collagen disease or maybe lupus, they couldn’t be sure. Later in life, I sold health insurance. Many of my customers had the same story to tell. Unless you have a definite cancer or dropped dead of a heart attack, they really don’t know. The majority of “modern medicine” is just a guessing game.
As I have learned over the years, modern medicine was born hundreds of years ago in superstition and ignorance and remains there today. So I asked the doctor what she would do to cure Cathy’s condition. Dr. Pockman told me that there was no cure for arthritis and we would have to learn to live with it.
I was shocked by her answer. I remember saying, “But she is just a child, arthritis is a disease of old people. How could she have it?” Dr. Pockman said that it was rare, but kids get it, too.
I left that day in despair. I kept saying to myself, there must be a reason for this and a way to cure it, why would a kid get an old person’s disease?
How I Learned to Be an Advocate for My Daughter
Dr. Pockman told me that she was going to give Cathy ten aspirins a day. She said that would bring the swelling of the knees down, and then they could put some kind of pins in to hold the kneecaps in place so she could walk. I had never heard of any adult taking that many aspirins in one day; it just didn’t sound right to me.
The next day, I bought a book just on aspirin. I read the entire book that night. The main message of the book was that aspirin could be so dangerous that if it were just invented, it would be available by prescription only.
I drove to Chicago the next day. I asked the doctor who was going to do the operation if Cathy was deficient in vitamin C. He said yes. Little did I realize that she was probably deficient in everything.
So I asked the question that I had read in the book. “Doctor, doesn’t aspirin kill vitamin C?”
He said, “Yes, it does.”
That made no sense, so I asked him, “Why, then, would you recommend aspirin?”
Wake Up Calls Two and Three
His answer was wake up call number two. He said, “Because that is standard procedure in these types of cases.” I must have had a dumbfounded look on my face, as he said, “It’s okay, trust me.”
I walked away thinking, “Yeah, right.”
I was beginning to form the opinion that these people had no clue as to what they were doing. I didn’t need a degree to understand that “we don’t know the cause and we can’t fix the problem but we will give drugs and operate” was an admission of gross ignorance.
So I headed straight up to my daughter’s room. I told Cathy that they were going to give her a lot of aspirins. I told her they could be bad for her. I said when the nurse brings them in, tell her you will take them soon and just leave them. My daughter would then flush the aspirin down the toilet.
About a week later, the nurse came in and said to me, “I have great news!” She said that the aspirin had brought the swelling down and they would be doing the surgery in a week. That was my third wake up call.
In the meantime, I had stumbled on a strange book. It was There is a Cure for Arthritis. I read the entire book that night. Its author, Paavo O. Airola, N.D., said things I had never heard of before. At first, I thought he was a nut case, but the more I read it, the more some of it made sense. The main points were that the wrong diet can cause disease and that fasting could cure disease.
After reading the book, I went to a health food store. In those days, those people were called health nuts. I felt funny going in there, but I was determined to investigate these claims. I knew in my heart and soul that there was a common sense answer to the cause of my daughter’s problem. I was rock solid that she wasn’t going to learn to live with her condition and spend her life taking drugs.
So, at the health food store, I bought a couple of books on health. These books also hammered home the idea that the wrong food was the cause of disease. Growing up on what I now know was the wrong food, I fed my daughter even worse food. To me, food was food. But then I thought, I and everybody I knew grew up on the same food, so why didn’t their kids or they have any illness like Cathy had?
Wake Up Call Number Four
Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. One of the books talked of the negative effects of vaccines. I thought of when Cathy had the smallpox shot. The nurse said the first jab wasn’t good and gave her a second shot. I remember the stuff running down her arm. That was my fourth wake up call.
By this time, I was investigating a place in Texas called Dr. Shelton’s Health School. His method of treatment was fasting and consuming organic fruits and vegetables. Because I learned to research and investigate things of importance, I called the county Better Business Bureau in Texas. That’s how little I knew about these things.
The second I mentioned Dr. Shelton’s name, the lady came unglued. “No, don’t go there. They starve people to death. Shelton has been indicted for murder,” and on and on.
Well, I can tell you, I am of a cool nature, but this lady got to me. When I calmed down, I called the Better Business Bureau in a city in Florida. There was another place listed in the book down there. The lady on the phone was very businesslike and said that the place had been in business for so many years and their practice was all about fasting. After I hung up, I figured Shelton wasn’t real popular with the people down in Texas.
So, I read a few more books, and then made the decision to send my wife and daughter down there. I was not going to put my daughter through an operation while she still had the disease. That just didn’t make any sense. So I made an appointment at the Health School.
Then I went to Chicago to the hospital and told them they would not be doing any operation on Cathy. I told them it didn’t make any sense to operate if you can’t cure her disease. (I believed in cures then.) I did not tell them what I was planning to do.
A Promising Treatment For Cathy
All hell broke loose. Dr. Pockman came storming in the office. In front of my daughter this woman said, “You had better take your daughter home and work with her mind because she will never get out of that wheelchair.” ( Little did I know that the vaccine had also affected her mind.)
My temperature hit the boiling point. As a salesman, I knew the power of suggestion. To say something like that in front of a child, well, I can’t think of a word to describe my feelings toward that doctor. I still get angry when I think about it. I just looked at Dr. Pockman and blurted out, “You people haven’t got the slightest idea of what caused Cathy’s condition or how to cure it,” and I left.
I had to fight with my wife to take my daughter to Texas. In the 1970s, the idea of food or vaccines being the cause of disease was ridiculous, according to the medical profession, and fasting was the same as starvation.
I felt in my heart and mind that what the then-called “quacks” were saying made more sense than what the doctors were doing. So I went to my boss and told him the story. I said I needed to borrow some money to send my wife and daughter to Texas. I was never one for making a lot of money. He talked with me for a long time. He, of course, thought it was a foolish and dangerous thing to do, but if my mind was made up, he said he would loan me the money.
To put this in perspective, the hospital charged $3000 dollars for the month. Dr. Shelton charged $600 for a month. I told my wife, “What harm it would do to go without food for a few days? If you get concerned, just hop on the plane and come home.” I told her about my Irish setter that I had when I was a kid. One time, the dog got sick and went and laid down in the field. I brought it water and food. The dog drank the water but wouldn’t touch the food. I was afraid the dog would die if it didn’t eat.
That’s the programming we all get as kids. When I expressed my concern about my dog to my mother, she said, “Don’t worry, Mother Nature knows what she is doing.” My mom was right; in a few days, the dog was his old self again.
When Cathy came out of Children’s Hospital, she was in a wheelchair, she walked with a limp, her eyes were dull, her face pale. She had limited motion in both her neck and right index finger. Right before I had told them we were leaving, they wanted to give her gold shots.
A Glimmer of Hope
There is no question in my mind that if I would have continued with their treatment, it would have killed my daughter before she was a teenager. My wife had never read any of the health books, and thought I was crazy, but agreed to go.
On the second day of my daughter’s fast, I received a phone call from Dr. Vivian Vetrano from Dr. Shelton’s Health School. She said, “I have good news and bad news,” with a slight laugh. “The good news is that your daughter is vomiting black bile and the bad news is your wife is out of control.”
Now, it’s funny, but wasn’t at that time. I asked her, “What are you going to do?”
She said, “I want to break the fast, calm your wife down and resume the fast again.”
I said okay and had a talk with my wife. My daughter fasted for 14 days (water only), then was put on fruits and vegetables for two weeks. My money ran out and I had to bring her home. Otherwise, I would have kept her there as long as it would have taken to retrain her in how to live healthy.
She looked like the picture of health. She could move her neck and finger normally. Her eyes were as bright as the stars. Her skin color looked healthy. They were even able to move her kneecaps into place, but they wouldn’t stay in place, as the cortisone had eaten away the substance that held them in place.
The Fifth Wake Up Call
I have always felt guilty because I didn’t have the money to keep her there longer. So I called Children’s Hospital and asked to make an appointment for a checkup. I never told them where we had been or what treatment Cathy had received. I just wanted their opinion to find out what state of health Cathy was in.
They did some tests. Dr. Pockman came up to me and said the news was good. There were no signs of any arthritis. All test results were good.
In my joy, I foolishly thought I needed to tell them where we had been. I actually thought that they must not know about fasting. When I told Dr. Pockman my story, she got right up in my face and said, “If voodoo works, so be it,” and walked away.
That was my fifth and final wake up call. I knew right then and there that these people had no clue and didn’t want to know the cause and cure of disease. After all, you can’t make any money telling people to eat fruits and vegetables to build and maintain health and go to bed when you’re sick and let Mother Nature do her house cleaning.
So, with a diagnosis of restored health, we took her down to Shriners Hospital in St. Louis to have the pins put in her knees. This was done. However, no one told us that the pins would only be good for about ten years.
Cathy Faces Her Vaccine Injury As An Adult
It was about 25 years before her knees began to hurt when she walked. So, she quit walking. She lay in bed and her husband carried her to the couch and they watched TV all day, day in and day out. Her husband was legally blind and together they watched TV, ate all the wrong foods and, at one time, experimented with drugs.
They had two children, Christina, the older child, and Jenifer, the younger. They should have not had any. The two kids, both girls, grew up in a home atmosphere that I cannot explain. It was what you would see in the movies. So, I will move up a few years.
The older one, Chris, would sit in her room and stare at the walls for hours at a time. The younger, Jenny, with the blessing of the father, was running the house.
My daughter would lie in bed and scream at the husband to take care of the kids. It was so bad that they were evicted from three different apartments because the younger child was throwing fits all the time.
Jenny was in control of the house. There weren’t too many days that my daughter didn’t call asking me what to do. The police were called in many times.
After a while, my daughter’s hands crippled up. I believe this was from the frustration she was having in trying to maintain some kind of order. I have read that emotions are one of the causes of arthritis. I can remember how Cathy used to clench her fist when she was angry.
People from a state agency came in to clean and help. They basically did as little as possible besides help themselves to the food. Finally, it got so bad that I was able to convince my daughter and her husband that the kids should be removed from the house and placed in a Christian home.
Pain That Crosses Generations and Decades
Both girls were improving in the Christian home. A year later, Chris turned 18, the maximum age one could be to stay in the home. She had to go back home into the same environment. She suffers a lot of problems to this day.
The younger one came home for a short visit. She convinced her father to let her come back home. She said she was a new person. Every day, I went to their home, I took the father for a walk and tried to convince him that it would not be a good idea to bring her back at that time.
It was like talking to a wall. He let her come back home. They used to let the kids watch movies like Freddy Krueger and The Exorcist. The younger daughter, Jenny, who was controlling the house, said she started seeing images in the house.
They took her to Porter Stark, a place for people with mental problems. They said she had a chemical imbalance. They put her on drugs. She became more controlling. They diagnosed Jenny with schizophrenia. It was soon after that she was placed in an institution, where she is today. Another life wasted by the drug and medical business.
The condition at the home was unimaginable. I went there one day. It was summer; the door was open. I heard my daughter screaming from her bedroom at Chris. I stayed by the door for a minute. The screaming never stopped. I now knew why Chris was the way she was.
My daughter was in bed, and her husband, who was legally blind, had to carry her everywhere. He wasn’t even doing that. She was lying in filth.
A Difficult Decision
I went home and told my wife we had to put Cathy in a nursing home. At least she would be taken care of. We did that. Chris eventually moved in with some guy. Jenny was transferred from one facility to another and kept on drugs. She had tried to kill herself a number of times. This was a thirty year, ongoing day-to-day situation.
My daughter’s life was ruined by the vaccines and drugs. My grandchildren’s lives were ruined as a secondary effect, not to mention the toll it took on my wife, son and me. In order to explain all the stupidity of the medical profession, I would have to write a book.
My daughter went to doctors many times in her life. She would never adopt a change in her lifestyle. I have been thrown out of more doctors’ offices than most people go to.
When we placed our daughter in the nursing home, they did take good care of her, however, we bumped heads with the nurses and doctors constantly. Cathy had only taken aspirin, Tylenol or ibuprofen for her discomfort. She was never in pain like some arthritics are. She refused the steroids, as she knew that the cortisone had caused her kneecaps to become dislocated when she was a child. In the nursing home, she had to be lifted in and out of the wheelchair whenever she had something to do.
The problem was the doctor and nurses; they wanted to give her steroids. They were always telling her that she would die if she didn’t take them. I got into it with these people on many occasions.
Cathy was wasting away. She always had mucus in her throat and lungs. About twice a year they would scare her and take her to the hospital. At the hospital, they would do more of the same tests, threaten and intimidate her, and then bring her back to the nursing home.
What you are reading from this point on are words from the actual notes taken during that time frame, a short outline of a real nightmare.
The Beginning Of Thirty Days Of Hell
April 27, 2004. My daughter was admitted to our local hospital by the nursing home. The reason for admission was fever with temperature of 100 to 103 and decreased appetite.
Tests: bone marrow biopsy. CT scan of chest. Cathy was given maxipine and vancomyacin.
May 6. Cathy was released from the hospital.
May 16. Cathy was ordered back to the hospital. The reason was high grade fever. At 8 pm, I had a phone conversation with a Dr. Shaw. He said Cathy should have a blood transfusion and if she didn’t, he would discharge her back to the nursing home.
We went to the hospital at 9 pm. Cathy was her normal self. She said she was hungry and we went home, thinking everything was okay. Dr Shaw had been telling her for over a year to have a blood transfusion.
After investigating it, we decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Dr. Shaw called us at 1:50 am. He said if Cathy didn’t have a blood transfusion, she would die. I said, “Do it,” and rushed to the hospital.
Something wasn’t right. Dr. Shaw was waiting for us in the hallway. He said Cathy needed blood and surgery. He wanted us to sign a paper. My wife did.
Then they brought Cathy out of the room. We went up to her. She was unresponsive. Her eyes were open.
It was as if she were dead. The next thing I remember was a Dr. Knowlin telling us he was going to do a tracheotomy. He said he didn’t know if Cathy would survive the operation. He came out about an hour later and said she is alive, but had suffered a heart attack during the intubation.
We had no idea what had happened to our daughter and when we saw her, she was on life support, unable to speak. We weren’t getting many answers and what they were saying didn’t make much sense. I started taking notes.
Troubling Relations With Hospital Staff
May 23. We still had no answers. We talked with a nurse who had been there for 27 years. She advised us to go to the ethics committee. She said that even she knew that Cathy’s mouth wouldn’t open wide enough to insert the tube. She stated that this would never have happened if she and her doctor were on the case. When I told the doctor this, that nurse went on a vacation.
May 24. We had a meeting with supervisor Lynn Kowert and a nurse. We demanded to know what had happened. I asked for the records. We asked why Cathy was intubated in the first place. We wanted to change doctors. She said she would find out.
May 25. We had a meeting with Dr. Shaw and Lynn Kowert. Dr. Shaw said Cathy had cardiac arrest while being intubated. Dr. Shaw said he was not at the hospital that night. He said he received telephone calls at 10 and 11 pm. He said he came to the hospital about 1 am. He was talking a mile a minute. It was difficult to question him. He said Cathy was given no drugs that night.
May 26. A doctor called. He wanted to test Cathy’s cortisol level and give her ACTH. When I said no steroids, he wanted to give the test anyway. He said there were no side effects and it would extend her life.
May 26. Dr. Shaw had a conversation with Cathy. After he left, Cathy wrote, “The doctor said if I didn’t take the drugs I would die.” She didn’t want him for her doctor anymore. She had me inform him the day before that she didn’t want him anymore.
I went out and asked him why he was even there. I went down to the records office and asked for the records. They said they couldn’t give them to me.
I went back to her room and was told Suzette Mahneke, vice president of the hospital, and Amy Patterson wanted to talk to me. Miss Mahneke said there was a problem and things could not continue going the way they were going. Miss Patterson said the staff was on edge and couldn’t do their job.
Miss Patterson said they didn’t want to get permission every time they wanted to give a drug or do a test. Miss Patterson said they contacted their lawyer and he said getting admitted to a hospital is giving them permission to be treated by what the doctors feel is best. She said standard practice doesn’t require permission.
Miss Patterson stated their lawyer said I could be charged with practicing medicine without a license. And then she said we could always take Cathy somewhere else.
May 27. Janet Pakish, patient advocate, returned my call. She started off the conversation by saying if we were not happy with them or what is going on, why we don’t take Cathy to another facility.
May 28. I gave a copy of Cathy’s Bill of Rights to Lynn Cowert, floor director.
May 29. Dr. Mohideen called and asked if I wanted to have another meeting. By this time, I had decided that I would not deal with these people and I would spend my time with my daughter and help her make the best decisions, as she was constantly being intimidated. I said I was writing a letter about her rights that Cathy will read and sign about and I would give a copy to him. At no time during this conversation did he tell me that he was the one who did the intubation.
May 30. I had a meeting with Dr. Mohideen and two nurses. He admitted he was the one who did the intubation. He said Cathy had been given two drugs before the intubation. He didn’t take my paper with questions I had written down.
Cathy was still on diflucan today. I told the floor nurse to take her off as Cathy never agreed to it. Nurse Shiela said they put Cathy on gentamicin. Cathy is afraid because they keep telling her she won’t get better or she will die if she doesn’t take the medications. Nurse Sheila said Cathy was also on vancomycin. The printout says gentamicin increases the risk of kidney damage when taken with vancomycin.
My wife said no one to this day has explained what happened that first night. I asked what happened at 10 pm and 11 pm that night when Dr. Shaw was called. What did the nurses’ notes say? If Cathy’s condition was getting worse, the nurse would have written it down, and why did Dr. Shaw not show up till 1 am if she were in danger? They never answered the questions.
I gave Dr. Mohideen a copy of Cathy’s Bill of Rights.
Startling Statements From Cathy’s Nurses
May 31. Dr. Mohideen called. He said Cathy refused all medications. Cathy said tonight a nurse wanted to give her nine different drugs.
I met Dr. Bill Nowlin, the doctor who did the surgery in the hall. I asked him, “Why did you say before the operation that you didn’t think Cathy would survive?”
He said, “Because she was in critical condition.” He said he didn’t know she had cardiac arrest; he thought she had respiratory failure. He said she still had the tube in her throat when he operated. I asked him what condition was she in exactly. We told him we didn’t know what happen to her. He expressed surprise.
June 1. Lynn Cowert introduced me to Cathy Price, who would be taking her place. Miss Price began saying that I was making decisions for Cathy and I had no right to do so.
My wife, at this time, was talking to nurse Lisa. My wife thought Cathy’s tooth was broken because of draining the sinus. Nurse Liz said no, it was probably due to the tube forced down her throat.
June 3. I called Dr. Mohideen. I asked him what happened. He said Cathy stopped breathing because of her sepsis. He said he gave her an IV with fentanyl and succlcline. He said he couldn’t get the tube down.
Later that night, I received a message from the social worker. She wanted to talk about discharging Cathy. When I asked Cathy about that first night, she said she couldn’t remember anything. Why?
June 9. Staff wanted to meet with us. There was Dr. Mohideen, Amy Tharp, Amy Patterson, Lynn Cowert, Suzette Mahnexe, Janet Packash and a few nurses. I asked Dr. Mohideen a lot of questions. He was very evasive. The others tried to protect him.
He did admit that he had never informed Cathy about the side effects of the drugs he gave her. Amy Patterson said not informing the patient about side effects was standard practice. I then said, “So, what good is your Bill of Rights?”
Dr. Mohideen said Cathy’s condition was shallow breathing when he intubated her. I asked him if her breathing was any different than it was a few hours before. He said he didn’t know. He said her heart stopped because he was not able to put the tube in.
Before this meeting a nurse named Karen said their lawyer would be at the meeting. She asked me if I wanted to cancel the meeting. I said no. I said, “You should have told me. I would have brought mine.”
Their lawyer wasn’t there. Just another intimidation ploy.
Again, Dr. Mohideen wanted to know what to do if Cathy were to stop breathing. I said, “I believe that is a legal question.”
They decided to ask Cathy. Everyone was told to put on masks and gowns, all nine of us. Up to this day, no one wore any masks.
Cathy didn’t want to be bothered. She had been like that for a few days. Dr. Mohideen asked Cathy, “Do you want to be resuscitated?” She said no.
He then asked, “Do you want to change your feeding tube?” She turned her head no.
He then asked, “Do you want to take antibiotics?” She said no.
My wife then talked to Cathy. Cathy changed her mind about the first two. My wife asked her about taking the drugs twice more. Cathy clearly shook her head no.
My wife called me that night and said a nurse named Karen told her that because ICU costs $8,000 to $10,000 a day and Cathy refused to take the drugs, the government might step in and have Cathy placed in a rehab center.
Cathy’s husband David asked Dr. Mohideen why, after Cathy had taken antibiotics for two weeks, they didn’t take care of the problem? The doctor said he didn’t know.
I then asked if a person is sick and has symptoms like fever and swelling of the lymph nodes and you give a drug which can cause the same symptoms, how would you know which caused the symptoms, the disease or the drug? He never answered.
They gave her the drugs anyway. Dr. Mohideen finally admitted that he had never informed Cathy about any side effects of the drugs he had given her.
June 9. Dr. Mohideen admitted Cathy’s heart had stopped because he was not able to put the tube in. He said he didn’t know about the tooth being knocked out or her split lip.
June 11. Meeting with the ethics committee. At this meeting, before which they made us wait for a half hour, there was Dr. Mohideen, Suzette Mahnexe and Amy Paterson. I asked the chairperson if it was standard practice to have these people at these meetings. I asked if they had already been told their side of the story; she was obviously nervous and said yes.
This was obviously planned to intimidate us. One moron said that I was influencing my daughter’s decisions and suggested that I stay away for a while. Another person suggested that Cathy sign an agreement to take the drugs for a certain number of days. Another said that I didn’t have faith in the doctor. This idiot said that after I said the medical profession deals with symptoms and hasn’t a clue about causes.
We were getting nowhere. Dr. Hilmo, the chairperson, asked, “What do you want us to do for you?”
I said, “I want you to review the charts that first day and talk to the nurse who called Dr. Shaw that night.” I said we wanted to know what happened. We said we wanted a second opinion on Cathy’s swollen stomach (her weight had doubled) and we wanted to take her somewhere else. Amy Patterson said no doctor would take the case.
June 12. My wife talked to Dr. Mohideen today. He said Cathy wasn’t going to make it.
June 13. Cathy was unresponsive; her arms were jerking in the air. No one told us this jerking was seizures.
June 14. Cathy died.
June 30. I received a letter from Dr. Hilmo, the chairperson of the ethics committee. It said, “Everyone seemed in agreement that Cathy was competent to make her own decisions.”
I bought all the records. There were no notes on the ethics committee meeting or any incident reports. I wrote for these and was told they were not part of the patient’s records. So, if they give you an overdose of drugs and you die, that is pulled from the record.
They literally bury their mistakes, and no one ever knows, except them. The hospital book, says, “You have a right to refuse any treatment and ask a trusted family member or friend to be your advocate and know your medications you take and why you take them and participate in ALL decisions about your treatment and know the risks, benefits and side effects of treatment,” and on and on. What good is this policy if it’s not followed? What good is it if you live in a state where the patient has no legal rights?
The Search For Answers
June 25, 2004. I wrote a letter to the chief of police. I filed a complaint. A Detective Horn was assigned to the case. He called me and said he had never had a case like this and had no idea what to do.
A few days later, I thought I would cover my bases and filed a complaint with the state of Indiana. When Detective Horn heard about it, he said he would wait for the state to answer.
I insisted that he investigate my charge. He finally said flat out, no. He would wait for the state to respond.
November 29, 2004. I called Indiana University Toxicology Lab. The lady said the test for vancomyicin is an easy test. Any amount will show in the blood.
July 22, 2005. I received a letter from Detective Horn. He said that Linda Lay of the Attorney General’s Office had determined that there was no criminal wrongdoing in my daughter’s death; therefore, based on their findings, we have no recourse to conduct a criminal investigation into the death.
I also wrote to Ron Winger, CEO of the hospital. I enclosed all my notes. He never responded.
As a last resort, I had an autopsy done. I wanted a toxicology test done. I contacted a doctor out of Chicago. I thought I would find one who wasn’t in bed with these people. As luck would have it, he did have ties to this hospital.
After waiting six months for the report, he never did a test for the drugs. I could not believe it. He was the doctor doing the autopsy at the funeral home. The minute I mentioned the drugs, he said they knocked out her kidneys.
The doctors gave my daughter drugs they knew would cause her kidneys to stop working. They gave her these drugs in spite of both of us telling them on a day-to-day basis not to give them.
The hospital covered it up. The hospital refused to give us the incident report. The hospital refused to give us a copy of the notes from the meeting with the ethics committee.
The hospital denied my daughter’s right to make her own decisions. The hospital tried to deny me from being my daughter’s advocate. The hospital administrator threatened to charge me with practicing medicine without a license. The CEO refused to talk to me. The hospital refused to investigate the death of my daughter.
The state health department said that in this state, the patients have no rights. How can this be?
Hospitals and doctors can cause disease, disability and death, and no one investigates. There are no checks and balances to protect the people from the medical mafia. If you defraud someone out of a few dollars, you can go to jail, but a doctor can kill and get away with it.
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