I AM a 52-year-old woman living in criminal-corporatocracy Australia. When Covid struck I was locked down with my husband John. I do not do Facebook or Twitter or the others, and I have always avoided news as I found it so depressing. John would sometimes tell me news which he got from the ABC. We were perfect clueless believers.
When I spoke to my GP she told me that she had been vaccinated, and that lots of people need to get vaccinated so that the hospital system doesn’t fall over. She didn’t mention safety or risk or me specifically. At that time I didn’t notice the enormous wrongs in that advice.
I talked with John about the vaccine and I suggested we not get it, we wait, and he thought we should get it because the airlines required it and I wanted to travel to visit my elderly father.
I trusted and believed in the knowledge of both my doctor and my husband. I searched for information about the vaccines and the results were mostly US and Australian government websites and places such as the Mayo Clinic.
I didn’t have a chance. The game was rigged and I had no idea we were even playing a game.
I got three vaccinations at the newly converted clinic nearby. They took my DNA, although they didn’t explain that they were doing that. I had to sign something which I didn’t understand. The nurse had to read out something which I didn’t understand.
On the day of the third a big lump grew in my armpit. The internet said it was fine and it meant the medicine was working. It went away, but that’s not the end of the story.
My body has always been slow to react and recover. After some months I noticed I was frequently feeling dizzy. John said I was dehydrated and should drink more water. I put it down to the heat, which I have never coped very well with.
Next I went to stay with my elderly Dad in another city. He wasn’t coping looking after himself. Now my Dad is quite an unusual man. He loves history and world politics and thinks most US politicians both historically and today are lying reptiles who have caused most of the world’s suffering. He doesn’t watch Australian TV. He watches Russia Today.
At that time it was early in the Ukraine war and it dominated the RT coverage. The Western media was showing 180-degree opposing events as reality. One side was lying. The Russian story seemed to make sense. To me it was obvious that the West’s side was a crock. The blatancy of the lies shocked me. These were not exaggerations and twisting: they were extreme lies.
I had a migraine for two months. I spent a lot of time in bed. I was exhausted, fatigued. I struggled to look after Dad.
When I went home I kept reading about the war. My reading of alternative news sites led me to the Covid travesty. Over several months I discovered the horror, and had many sleepless nights. John noticed. He said I had changed into a completely different person, which I hadn’t of course.
After 27 happy years, he said ‘I think we should separate’, and my heart was broken. I won’t be the last 52-year-old woman thrown away, but oh boy, does it hurt.
We sold our flat and I moved in with Dad. I was still dizzy and fatigued. My doctor would not see me unless I wore a mask, which I was not willing to do now.
Dad sent me to a headache clinic. The receptionist offered me a mask. I said I wouldn’t wear one, and she asked if I had a government exemption. I said I didn’t need an exemption. She asked why not. I said – because I am a free person. Then I left.
More time passed. I found the presentations of Dr Phillip Altman on the internet, and the Australian Medical Professionals’ Society (AMPS). I wrote to AMPS and asked if there was a doctor who had been to Dr Altman’s presentations. They gave me the name of one, and I saw him, and he had me MRI’d and found I have brain damage – 20-30 white matter lesions on my brain. I am taking nattokinase and other things now. It doesn’t seem to be possible to see any specialists. My new doctor wanted me to have cognition tests, but he cannot get through on the phone. I think the system is overwhelmed. Good thing we got vaccinated and helped keep the hospital system from falling over, isn’t it? The irony.
I started feeling soreness in my kidneys, and then my heart. Just sometimes.
I tried to re-unite with John, and told him how valuable our relationship was to me, and that I would give up reading news. He took me to see my old fake-doctor, who by now had stopped requiring the mask. The practice had a sign outside where they display their passive aggression. It’s similar to this, from their website.
As we arrived, two people exited and took off their masks. We didn’t wear masks. Inside, the practice had changed greatly. It used to be busy, with three or four reception staff, and a full waiting room. Today there is an excessive amount of plexiglass, one receptionist, who is miserable and afraid, and no one in the waiting room. The receptionist asks us about cold and flu symptoms. She is haughty. There is an atmosphere. It’s depressing, eerie. It seems grey, dark. All the chairs are spaced. I drag a chair to sit next to John.
When we see the doctor, she is wearing a mask. Where I sit, my natural eye-line goes to a spot on the wall where a sign has been placed instructing how to fit your mask properly. It makes me angry, but I don’t show that. I find it difficult to look at the doctor in her mask. It represents so much.
The doctor grilled me about what my grandparents had died of, what diseases my parents had, and even asked about my cousins. She told me that my neurological problems may have been there five years ago and that I may not have known. Denial. Guilt.
She offered to arrange things with the psychology unit to have the cognitive test, and I agreed, but never heard anything afterwards. She would have found the same as my new doctor, if she even tried. She offered me a specialist neurologist, but I never got that either.
I began staying sometimes with John and his parents. I began to think we would reconcile and reunite. I didn’t like staying there though, because I was trying to eat healthier, and the house is very cold. And has spy-appliances.
I decided to stop eating and drinking. It was very painful. I did it for five days and then relented. How pathetic.
My latest symptom is numbness. My right thigh and bottom.
I investigated emigrating to Mexico, but I don’t have enough money. I tried Nicaragua, but Dad says people would rob us. We looked at Russia, Hungary, Slovakia. There is nowhere to escape to, all governments are doing these awful things.
John has recommenced saying we’re separated. Another spear to my heart.
I have to get used to the idea he doesn’t want me. I’m so sad about spending the rest of my life alone. I really want someone to share life with. But I couldn’t do online dating platforms. Imagine trying to wade through. And giving my data. I want a conspiracy theorist. I want the human connection, to talk and care. But I’m pretty sure no such man is available.