Dying of COV$D: How "misinformation" saved my life
While camping in the Sierra mountains two weeks ago, I almost froze my arse off.
Not a good look for me. Not at all. "Your nose is blue," said my
camping buddy. Take me back to civilization! Too late. I had already
caught a chill.
Went to work the next night. Felt like hell. Everything kept violently spinning
and spinning whenever I opened my eyes. "Make it stop!" Failed a PCR test. What! After spending over
1008 days traveling all over the entire freaking world in perfect
health, has the dread COV$D monster finally snared me in its evil grip? That's just weird.
Three days later, the assistant manager of my apartment complex came to
inspect something or other in my unit and found me semi-conscious,
collapsed on the bathroom floor, almost dying.
Ambulances were called.
"Don't touch me, don't move me, just let me
write out my last will and testament and then shoot me!" I cried as the
room continued to spin and spin. My ears hurt. The room spun. I was unable to
move. So much pain. Did I really have the dread COV$D? That will
teach me to blithely play the fool. Millions have already died of
COV$D. Was it now my turn?
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"Anything to stop the pain!" I kept begging like the wimp that I was, mentally preparing myself to welcome the Grim Reaper.
They gave me a CT scan. They gave me an electrocardiogram. They gave
me another PCR test. "You must have COV$D," my ER doc finally decided.
"All we can do now is admit you to the COV$D ward and give you
Remdesivir."
Remdesiver? Holy shite! Suddenly I pulled myself back from Walking Toward
the Light. "Isn't that the stuff they invented to cure Ebola, only to
discover that Remdesivir was actually more deadly than Ebola?" The
doctor just shrugged. Remdesivir is almost a death sentence!
Since I'm
obviously going to die anyway, let me just go home and die in my bed. Let the Evil Globalist Bastards take over the world without me. The Davo$ Boyz,
the Federal Re$erve and all those other big men with slick hair and private jets can
now run the planet without me. I. Don't. Care. Because, unlike the
rest of you suckers, I'll be dead. "Goodbye cruel world." But somehow I managed to escape the COV$D ward and run for (what was left of) my pathetic life.
And then a miracle happened, a miracle called "friends". One friend
showed up with chicken soup. One friend gave me an acupressure
massage. One friend brought me pumpkin pie. Another helped wash my
hair. A call went out on the internet to our local anti-vaxxers,
the ones who get ridiculed regularly by Rachel Maddow, Jimmy Kimmel and
their other cronies on the MSM.
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"Your blood pressure is low, your blood oxygen is shocking, your blood
sugar is definitely not good. We need to bring in the big guns here."
Fine with me. Maybe I wouldn't mind not dying after all. I could
finish writing my next novel?
She pulled out some Ivermectin. "Horse-dewormer." Ta-da! I was never
so glad to see horse de-wormer in my life. What else was in there? Hydroxychloroquine, the med that only fools, Trumpers and COV$D survivors believe in -- and also a homeopathic remedy called carbo vegetabilis.
You know homeopathy? The latest stuff that Congress is desperately trying to
outlaw? And the alligator purse also contained some sort of concoction that the
MSM has told us is as dangerous as swallowing bleach.
Then I was also given the usual "misinformation" superstars such as
vitamin C, vitamin D, vitamin K, zinc, quercetin, NAC, serrapeptase, potassium, an herbal
immuno-complex, hawthorn, glutathione, and melatonin to help me sleep. All the stuff
that Big Pharma hates and FaceBook "fact-checkers" hate too.
The alligator purse appeared to be bottomless -- filled to the brim with
misinformation heresy. "Do you want to live or don't you?" Sure, why
not. The misinformation treatments continued. My blood-oxygen levels
shot up. My eyes stopped glazing over. The room finally stopped spinning. I could almost even walk to the bathroom by myself.
Long story short? I'm alive and well today due to "misinformation".
PS:
In contrast, last week a local man who I know had also gotten really sick. He
went to the hospital. They gave him "Run, Death is Near," many nurses' generic name for Remdesivir. They put him on a vent. Last thing I heard,
his blood oxygen levels were 45 and he was dying. But at least the poor
schmuck isn't misinformed! And Big Pharma is making a profit. And
FaceBook's fact-checkers highly approve of his treatment.
PPS:
Did I even have COV$D or not? My hospital test results are kinda
confusing. The report sez I tested positive -- but also "presumptive positive or inconclusive." Huh? Then the report goes on
to say, "While various diseases and conditions may be discussed in an imaging
report, this does not indicate a disease is present. An imaging report may describe common variations of
normal anatomy, as well as possible disease, and can only be interpreted
in the context of a patient's medical history,
examination, and other test results."
Now I'm really confused.
Resources:
How
to survive your hospital visit -- more times than we would like to
admit, our hospitals don't even have a clue as to what they are doing: https://live.childrenshealthdefense.org/chd-tv/shows/good-morning-chd/protocol-kills-protecting-your-rights-at-the-hospital/
"Pizza!" said the Lady with the Alligator Purse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B840Xxf4Hl8
Then
there's the even more intense dangers to our lives from the Deep State,
central banking, etc. that even an Alligator Purse won't cure. Please
check out Scott Ritter and Greg Mannarino:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRDZ_YyxxCo
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Stop Wall Street, War Street, Big Pharma and Big Tech from destroying our world. And while you're at it, please buy my books: https://www.amazon.com/Jane-Stillwater/e/B00IW6O1RM%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
