My Vaccination Injury Story...."START ME UP"
Rolling Stones Song used by.Microsoft for Windows 95 launch.
Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself”…AGAIN, with another Rolling Stones Song; Sympathy for the Devil. The remainder of the lyric does not hold true for me…”I'm A Man Of Wealth and Fame.” This is my first Substack Post, so please bear with me as I get accustomed to this platform.
I found it as a result of 2 years of intensive research to figure out what was wrong with me. This post has dust on it. I began drafting it a year ago. Apparently, writer’s block is one of the cognitive symptoms of vaccine-induced brain fog. As a professional writer for decades, I never experienced blockage; but this syndrome had yet to rear its ugly head. My challenge was always editing my loquacious mind. Now I am in unfamiliar territory. I contracted COVID in early February, 2021 at the age of 71. I followed my doctor's advice. What else would I do, right? I trusted him implicitly, and I was scared. He had been my doctor and good friend for 40 years. Our kids grew up together. We coached their sports teams together and attended each other’s family affairs. Doc got me tested at the local hospital where he was in residence. Positive! At that time antibody infusions were available, a one-hour intravenous outpatient procedure which I received. OK, fine. Then he told me to quarantine myself for 2 weeks. Hold the phone! It seemed to me that quarantine was a treatment for everyone EXCEPT me. “Is that all there is”, I asked. No, you should get vaccinated. Hmmm. Why would I get vaccinated for a disease I already had which confers natural immunity, I asked. HERE IT COMES…”An added layer of protection”, said doc; words that still haunt me. Not knowing then what I know now, I capitulated; the biggest mistake I have ever made in my life. I got two shots of Pfizer. With covid I felt poorly but had no respiratory problems or hospitalization. I recovered shortly after being paroled from house arrest, or so I thought. I dutifully wore a mask wherever I went, that being the mandated pandemic haberdashery. Then I started feeling strange, not myself, but I couldn't explain how I felt, despite my robust vocabulary. I went back to doc. He said “Did you get your booster shot yet?” I told him he had a better chance of seeing God, and that I felt like I had Lyme’s disease, for which he had treated me 5 years theretofore. I asked to be tested for that and sure enough it showed up in the lab work as active, but I did not have a new tick bite. I discovered that one of the many insidious effects of the vaccine was resurgence of dormant pathologies. Doc prescribed antibiotics again but not the same one that worked before. On retest Lyme was still active. I had learned about Ivermectin, which is used in Europe to treat Lyme’s. I asked doc to prescribe it. He beat around the bush and never gave me a straight answer. I explained my other torturous symptoms; small fiber sensory neuropathy, especially in my feet (peripheral neuropathy), for which he offered me gaba pentin, complete with side-effects, with which I was familiar but which he did not explain. I declined. That condition was a side-effect of an antidepressant I was taking, worsened by Lyme, vaccination, or both. He had started me on psychotropic medication years ago, the topic of a future substack. It’s a complicated mess, a cornucopia of debilitating symptoms, meds and side effects. Depression was approaching remission when I got the jab. Muscle stiffness was in the porridge too. I couldn’t do physical work or walk very far. I had no muscular endurance. For this, doc suggested Lipitor. His predilection for western pharmacology would have me taking many drugs, and more for the side-effects of those. It was no wonder he took this next step.
Doc referred me to an Infectious Disease specialist, to whom I made the same Ivermectin request. She said it was “outside the parameters of the professional organization with which I am required to comply.” Both of them were card-carrying members of K.A.K.A, Kool-Aid Klub of America. I would meet many members of this conglomerate in my journey. I was livid with the I.D. Specialist. She actually said there was nothing she could do for me, which I corrected in a loud voice. “There is nothing you are WILLING to do for me, because your so-called professional organization receives millions in grants from the CDC.” I even knew the total at the time. I asked her if she knew how many people with Lyme disease had committed suicide, unable to tolerate it. She was shaking as I got up to leave, bidding her a good sleep that night.
I tried other remediations that seemed credible but to no avail, and expensive. One was HBOT, Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy, covered by my insurance for only a few conditions, not mine. I contacted every HBOT center in the region, signing up for the one that had the best reviews. I was told it would take 30 treatments to be effective, and that they had treated brain fog and vaccination injury successfully. At $200 per treatment, I fronted them $6000; 5 treatments a week for 6 weeks with no effect whatsoever. I was a physical and mental wreck; a far cry from this…
ME…AIRBORNE
I was a martial arts master, having trained most of my life. A 5th degree black belt, I had my own school, taught at the Police Academy, and was a full-contact kick boxer. (In the above photo, my belt is level with the speedbag platform in the background, 6 feet off the floor. Photo below as more accurate after the jab…
My Substack screen name is Renaissance Man (explained in a future post); a person with many unrelated areas of expertise,
In my research, I discovered Dr. Peter McCullough, who posts here under Courageous Discourse. As an experienced writer in many genres and venues, I was confident enough to comment on Dr. M's post. He answered my reply with a witty question which implied agreement. ME? Is he talking to ME? I was shocked. My low self-esteem was still in there, hiding behind my many accomplishments. I wrote a much longer 2nd response and the floodgates opened. A tsunami of substack writers replied with ‘likes’. Thank you to my new-found colleagues for providing me with the inspiration to start my own substack. I am particularly indebted to substack writer Ted Levi Toldman. I wrote that my vaccination injury, about which I would share, was keeping me from getting started, having severely diluted my normal level of motivation. Mr. Toldman advised “Don't waste time, get started! I am curious to know your story.” I knew I was among special people here; thinking people who were obviously paying attention. So refreshing. Substack is a veritable filter, separating wheat from chaff. Thank you, Mr. Toldman.
One other debilitating disorder I have is exhaustion, caused by microclotting. Regardless of how much sleep I get at night, I could fall asleep at any time during the day, involuntarily. I call it passing out. Driving provides a lot of visual and auditory stimulation, especially with my sound system cranked up. When I park the car and turn it off, it’s another story. I have passed out behind the wheel in parking lots, in front of my house, in other neighborhoods. I was tested for my level of microclotting. It’s the highest rating there is. I receive treatment for all this, the primary offending factor being Spike Protein. I doubt that my doctor understands any of this. I have learned a lot. My health care provider for this syndrome and others is the Leading Edge Clinic, headed up by two brilliant clinicians, Pierre Kory, M.D., and Scott Marsland, FNP-C. They are supported by a staff of knowledgeable and committed nurses. Pierre and Scott are avid researchers.
The guidance provided by Substack is that “I am not just starting a newsletter, I am starting a community; inviting people to subscribe to my thinking”, an exciting opportunity. Apparently, there are such people out there, judging by the blitzkrieg of ‘likes’ in my email inbox, some writers making several encores. I am truly humbled. I would like to continue building a community which appreciates my approach to writing; therapeutic for me, informative, clear, compelling and expository for you. It will be primarily autobiographical. Fiction is not my forte. I have decades of life and work experience across several careers about which to commiserate. It will be entertaining, eye-opening, opinionated, frustrating, impassioned, sad, inspirational but always 100% true because I was there; no hearsay, hyperbole, embellishment or exaggeration; no fact-based fiction for the reader to parse. Your responsible feedback is invited. I will always acknowledge, sometimes commenting. Somewhere in that therapeutic exchange lies growth and expiation for me and something for you too. I will be honest and forthcoming, at times wearing my feelings on my sleeve, without reservation. At times I will write about public policy issues. I spent one of my careers in government, including extensive graduate-level research thereon.
I hope you subscribe and become a paid subscriber as well. I have been retired since 2009 so am on a fixed income. When you read that last sentence, hold your nose to get the proper whining intonation. All of my skills that are income-producing require physical exertion, so that’s out. All I have left is writing.
I will, at times, include unpaid subscribers for a posting that I think has very abroad appeal. My intention is to post a substantial piece every two weeks, moving to weekly after I get my sea legs. In between I will post something shorter to fulfill my obligation of keeping you interested and entertained. Topics from my eclectic background include:
Vaccination Injury (mine).
My nickname, Renaissance Man, why?
Behavioral Health and the lack thereof, personal and professional experience in.
Martial Arts.
Public Policy.
Law Enforcement-my primary career.
Family members.
Linguistics.
Contemporary Buddhism.
Favorite Quotes.
Psychology.
Philosophy.
Comedy throughout.
Unpublished book installments.
With each post, I will try to include the topic of the next post. I ask your forbearance in deference to my vaccine injury, the topic of my first post. It is multi-dimensional (the injury, AND the post). I have to be in the right mood to write. We probably all do. Sometimes that is difficult to come by as mood swings are part of my V.I., which effect motivation, focus, and other cognitive functions. (Here’s a virtual tissue in case you’re getting emotional). The Department of Health and Human Services has declared brain fog to be a disability, making me eligible for all manner of entitlements under the American Disability Act, one of which is reasonable accommodation. Can I have some, please. I realize I am writing for a knowledgeable, sophisticated audience. I will endeavor to be worthy. I can do this, because “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggonit, people like me”, as said in SNL skit Daily Affirmations, with Al Franken playing Stewart Smalley. If you know from whence that comes, tell me in a reply. I will do my best to hold up my end of the bargain, in spite my time-consuming job of self-care. (here’s some more tissues). See you soon.
Ed
Thanks for reading Ed’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work; informative, clear, compelling and expository
Ooh, I am so pleased to see that you've started writing! I've so enjoyed reading your comments on several of the substacks I follow and I just think it's wonderful that you've put pen to paper. Count me among those looking forward to hear what you have to say.
We're all on the supplement train these days, it seems. Overall a very good thing.
Nice photo. Nice music. Nice introduction. Thank you. Looking forward to getting to know you better.