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Passing of my Grandpa
Written by Jeff Green - 01/09/2023
Passing of my Grandpa
Written by Jeff Green - www.virusesarenotcontagious.com
January 9th, 2023
I apologize to my readers for my absence this past couple of months. I have been dealing with my grandpa who fell, fractured his hip, and eventually passed away on Dec 26th at 99 years old, nearly 1 month after the fall. I wanted to briefly write about my experiences in the medical system that transpired over a month dealing with this situation. In the end, my grandpa was claimed to have contracted 'COVID-19' and died due to respiratory failure from it. The truth is much more complex than that, and my eyes have been opened once again to the inadequacy and ignorance of many in the medical field.
Because of ongoing vertigo from Meniere’s disease and perhaps an undiagnosed anemia condition, my grandpa fell and fractured (not completely broke) his right hip on November 23rd.
He practically begged me to call the ambulance. I knew what this would mean. He would now be subjected to dangerous medical treatments that would very likely damage or kill him. When the EMTs arrived, they picked him up and he stood up with their help. One of the EMTs said, “If his hip is broken, I would be very surprised.” He turned out to be partially right.
In the ER, he was initially asked if he had been vaccinated for 'COVID', tetanus, and so forth. I told them no. In fact, he had not been vaccinated in nearly 25+ years or so. The nurse informed me of the dangers of tetanus complications from surgery, but I continued to reaffirm to her that he did not need any vaccines.
He had to be transferred to the ER in a larger hospital out of town, about 25 miles away. They did not do such procedures here locally. Once we arrived there, one of the head doctors there described to us that he would need surgery. I asked, "Is surgery absolutely necessary for him?" She described to me that he would need a rod placed into his femur. After the initial x-rays of the leg, I found out that he merely had a hairline fracture, not a complete break, which I had suspected all along.
The surgeon came into the room. He described the hip surgery process and told me that my grandpa would be out of surgery and walking the next day. Of course, this was something that I didn't believe, and indeed, that never transpired. In fact, my grandpa was never able to take another step after surgery.
As I spoke to the doctors, I continued to ask questions about the nature of the injury and if it would heal with care. Being doctors and having gone through medical school, they do not believe in the mending power of the body. Discipline and patience must be learned when healing the body, no matter the age. I would come to realize once all was said and done that he never truly needed surgery at all and that, in fact, his leg would have healed over a few months by itself if cared for properly.
He stayed in the hospital after surgery for nearly 5 days. I noticed that after surgery, his voice was weaker and of poor constitution. This would never be properly recognized by doctors or nurses. I recognized it but they did not. Upon my grandpa's discharge from the hospital after undergoing surgery, he was sent back to a local nursing home for physical therapy. This proved to be a mistake. Unfortunately, as I would soon learn, the nursing home would neglect to take care of his urgent and basic needs, and because of inactivity, he would begin to deteriorate.
I traveled to and from the nursing home at least 4 or 5 times daily in order to feed him what I could and do bedside physical therapy (the little I could manage alone). Even this was not enough to counteract the deleterious effects of the surgery and from laying flat for days on end; the lymphatic system must be moved. The body must be fed around the clock. I needed help. He was not at home and it made treatment difficult. He, nor those at the hospital or nursing home, understood that the body requires a tremendous amount of nutrients to facilitate healing and to form mucus to protect the lungs at the same time.
It was later found that he had renal dysfunction. This is mostly because he was not being given enough fluid by nurses throughout the day.
For some perspective: It was only months ago that my grandpa was walking, jogging, and lifting weights at age 98. He had not been to a doctor in decades. While not in perfect health, he was quite healthy for his age.
I tried to feed him more food but he would not partake in it and did not have the mental conditioning to force-feed himself. Sometimes we must force-feed ourselves to get healthy in times of crisis. If we do not overrule the mind's learned repulsion in such times, we cannot provide enough nutrients to the body to overcome an illness/detoxification.
Over the course of the first week with him in the nursing home, I began to notice a few disagreeable things. Occasionally, the walls were being sprayed with an electric spray gun that shot a fine mist of sanitizer, along with what appeared to be infrared light. I thought “How insane have people become!?” I knew right then I had walked into a different world that I was not used to. Every so often, the housekeeper would go down the hallway cleaning each room "According to federal guidelines.", as I was told. Each time he left my grandpa's room I noticed a strong cleanser smell emanating/off-gassing from the floor after about 15 minutes.
His roommate, who had pancreatitis, complained constantly about the smell. According to his roommate, they sprayed tables, beds, and furniture with these chemicals. Normally, I would be against wearing a mask but the mask was helpful in filtering out some of the perfume and chemical-laden sanitizers, but only barely. As well, masks were required in hallways and lobbies.
One night, I saw a nurse my age who was having a panic attack in the nursing home lobby, something I have had many years of experience with. She eventually came into my grandpa’s room where I sat at his bedside. I told her that I saw her having problems earlier in the lobby and asked if she was OK. She began to open the floodgates of her emotions, tearing up as she told me of her problems. I felt her wrist. I mentally read her heart rate to be around 116 BPM. She told me that she didn’t eat hardly at all that day for whatever reason and was partly stressed due to the large heavy-duty N95 masks they had to wear due to a ‘COVID’ positive patient. I gave her nutritional advice on foods that would help calm her anxiety. She listened intently.
They didn't know what I know: A virus is 0.1 microns in size and common masks only filter out up to 0.5 micron particles. If viruses were contagious, they would certainly pass through such a mask with ease.
As I sat there, I began to contemplate the utter insanity that has befallen mankind. I thought, “Why is everyone unknowingly killing themselves…?”…right away, I knew the answer to my own question—because they have not been seeking the truth and standing upon that truth.
I began to view most people as lab rats living in cages trying to survive, allowing themselves to be subjected to completely unnatural ways of living. “There is more to life than this fear and insanity…” I thought.
The natural order of things is diminishing, and you are seeing the result.
A few days later, I got into a short-lived disagreement with one of the younger nurses as I slipped my mask down below my face for a few brief seconds to clearly speak to her down the hallway. I needed help getting my grandpa off the toilet. I asked, “Can you help now?” She threw a fit. “Uh, can you put your mask on??” At this point, my patience was beginning to run thin. I was tired of the mask tyranny. I threw the mask on the floor as I walked back into his room.
After a few days of walking around the nursing home, even with a mask on almost all of the time, I began to develop respiratory irritation from being around the cleansers, as I often have in the past. Because of ‘COVID’, sanitizers and cleansers have been greatly overused. I was inundated by these smells at both the hospital and nursing home. In some cases, they were worse at the hospital where he received surgery. I remember getting off the elevator at the hospital and walking down the hallway where the smell would take my breath away and nauseate me. I felt a bit sorry for the nurses that were inhaling these caustic fumes on a daily basis. It is likely they didn’t know the damage they were doing to their own bodies because their olfactory lobe and receptors were desensitized. I pondered… “What effects is this having on my grandpa?”
I was not used to being inundated with such fumes for long periods, nor was he. I had to force myself to stay with my grandpa. This caused allergic reactions to appear. First, sinus congestion, headache, and later I began to develop a cough. However, even leading up to this, I had started to feel the beginnings of my yearly detoxification cold long before I set foot in either the hospital or nursing home, as the weather changed into winter, starting around November 20th. Temperatures eventually plunged to 5 degrees °F soon after, along with snow.
Around this time is when many in the country began to develop what is classed as 'COVID', which is merely the common coronavirus and all possible variants relabeled as SARS-CoV-2, possibly intermingled with other similar respiratory viruses and their genetic biomarkers. The culmination of all of this, including stress in combination with the cleansers, caused me to develop my own detoxification and subsequent mild respiratory virus to deal with the toxins.
I asked myself: Why do so many people not see the connection between weather and the manifestation of viral and bacterial illness? Experience shows the keen observer that bacterial and viral detoxifications occur in pockets of a population all at the same time, almost always when entering into a seasonal change every 6 months. There, you will see influxes in bacterial and viral illnesses. Even official graphs show this fluctuation. Obviously, those people did not all 'catch' their illness from everyone else because they are all unconnected. Therefore, weather can play a vital role in the biochemical actions of cells.
Weather includes humidity, barometric pressure, and temperature changes, all of which influence cells and their actions. Such climate changes can bring about the dumping of stored/accumulated toxins—the proverbial breaking of the cellular dam, so to speak, where a sudden stressful event is all that is necessary for cells to no longer be able to hold back their toxin accumulations. As a result, tissues let loose and toxins enter extracellular fluids where they must be dealt with directly.
After two weeks of being bedridden and getting little to no movement, he began to develop pneumonia. I walked into his room in the morning (Dec 6th) only to see him despondent and in a confused state. His oxygen had dipped to 79 and his hemoglobin level (hgb) was down to 7.0—critically low. At least a couple of nurses at the nursing home knew this days before and did not inform me (as far back as Dec 2nd). A couple of days before he worsened, I was told it was “Up to our discretion if we think he needs to be sent out.” A bio-lab tech friend helped me sort through the matter and taught me what to look for.
On the morning of December 6th, I requested he immediately be taken back to the ER to stabilize his condition, which they did after having to convince them his condition was critical enough to do so. Later that day, he arrived once again in the same hospital he received his surgery. After a few chest x-rays, the head doctor entered the room to field any questions and let us know the situation. The doctor informed me that he had pneumonia and that they were going to treat him for the infection. The doctor left the room briefly as I thought about the situation for a minute or two and called a nurse to get the doctor back into the room to discuss it.
At this time, my grandpa was presenting no obvious signs of pneumonia, such as a cough. I asked him, “What is the extent of his pneumonia?” The doctor replied, “I'll just say this, he has a case of pneumonia that needs to be treated.” I asked him, “What is your treatment for that, exactly?” I already knew the answer. He replied, "IV antibiotics.” I asked, “Can you not observe his situation for 24 hours to see how he fares after stabilization? Since he's been here, he has improved greatly over what his condition was like in the nursing home.” The doctor retorted that “If we don't treat him now, his situation may get worse.”
I told the doctor that "Antibiotics will destroy his digestive abilities and weaken him further. I understand you have your normal operating procedures, but think about it in a different way. The body can heal pneumonia on its own given good nutrient-dense food and liquids, as well as proper positioning and movement." The doctor stared at the floor in disbelief and I could read his mind at that moment - "This guy is a nut!" Here I was telling the doctor that the body could heal through food and care—this was an alien thought to him. He was not about to entertain that notion for more than a few seconds. The doctor responded, "We can argue philosophy all day long, but if we don't treat him, his condition will worsen." I snapped back, "Everything is philosophy when it comes to the body. Everything. When it comes to health and nutrition, everything you do is philosophy. Every decision starts here…” *I point to my head*.
I realized I had no choice in the matter and that it was beyond my control. I was only his grandson and I did not have the absolute final say in his medical decisions. After a few more minutes, I told him, "Go ahead and treat him as you see fit, and we will see." I knew the antibiotics would do no good. I later learned they did not even bother doing a sputum culture to determine if the infection was viral or bacterial. If viral, antibiotics would have absolutely no effect since viruses are not alive.
Do realize that he was being tested for 'COVID' every other day at the hospital and nursing home. He did not develop pneumonia until two weeks after being bedridden. He tested positive for 'COVID' on Dec 18, almost 2 weeks after first developing signs of pneumonia. It is possible he developed problems mere days after surgery, as his voice was markedly different directly following surgery. Even on the day of his fall, his head was tilted back and he was breathing through his mouth for hours. He was always a mouth breather because his right nostril had become stopped up many years ago. As a result, his mouth and throat dried quickly during stress and subsequent heavy breathing.
I remember that on the day of his fall, it was everything I could do just to get the nurse to bring him water to wet his dry mouth. I surmise the stress of the fall and the entirety of the situation played significantly on his body and what was to follow. I know the effect it had on me, emotionally.
As I monitored their antibiotic administration, I noticed they gave him heavy-duty antibiotics, including penicillin derivatives. 24 hours later, I noticed he began to cough up heavy mucus. He was not spitting it out but was swallowing it. Swallowing mucus-bound toxins cause many of those toxins to be recirculated into the body again. I surmised this was part of the effect of antibiotics temporarily halting the detoxification by killing off degenerative tissue-consuming bacteria. A few days go by and his cough worsens, then later improves slightly. I knew the detoxification was not over so easily. There was still mucus-bound toxins and fluids in the chest that had not been properly expelled.
Antibiotics impede detoxification by poisoning beneficial modes of cleansing, like bacteria, leading to premature halting of detoxification. The sudden cessation of symptoms in such circumstances does not indicate the underlying problem has been healed. Antibiotics create the illusion of removing an infection but the issue is never fully resolved as a result and many times will crop up again in the near future even stronger than before.
Pneumonia occurs when a severe insult, injury, or medical procedure utilizes available nutrients that are used to facilitate the formation of mucus in the lungs. Because the lungs need mucus to protect themselves, lint, dust, debris, and toxins of all kinds can not be properly neutralized and expelled without adequate mucus. Mucus is primarily made up of white blood cells that bind with toxins in the lungs, die, then escort them out of the body, via coughing, sneezing, mucus membranes, etc. During this process, inflammation occurs in the wound which sends many nutrients and fluids to the area to facilitate healing. Sometimes, massive amounts of nutrients are used during this process. Because of this, the lungs usually do not have the necessary nutrients to form enough mucus to bind with toxins. Thus, fluid builds in an attempt to cleanse the lungs. As such, great amounts of nutrients must be consumed in order to offset these effects.
In the hospital, during antibiotic treatment, he would receive 2 more units of blood (he had received 2 units of blood directly after surgery, likely due to blood loss). I concluded that not giving him back the proper amount of blood contributed to his eventual hypoxia.
He was then discharged to go back again to the nursing home, which was the only option in town available for physical therapy. The nurse at the hospital tried to convince me that he needed to go to a physical therapy center before coming home with me because he still couldn’t walk and could barely stand. The nursing home in our town was all that was available logistically speaking. I and my dad debated on the matter for 2 hours. I was angry at their neglect, but I also realized that my grandpa was partially to blame because he would not tell them he wanted to get up, nor would he follow my nutritional advice. According to law, they supposedly cannot force a patient to do something they do not want to do. However, I did not fall under that law.
I thought that perhaps if I kept an even closer eye on him than before, and I hold their feet to the fire and make them do their job, it might be acceptable only for a short time just in order to get him back home and have time to get the necessary equipment set up from hospice. I was hopeful I could get him home to take care of him and finally carry out my nutritional skills.
I knew that the atmosphere of the nursing home was not anywhere close to being ideal for rehabilitation. The food was awful, overcooked, and cold. My grandpa would not touch the food, nor would any of his roommates. Very rarely would they bring a meal by that looked somewhat appetizing.
A few days go by and I am monitoring the situation closely. He had a 2x2 inch bedsore that had developed on the middle of his back from laying so long, which first started in the hospital after surgery. As I rolled him over, the bandage had rolled off his back and formed a big cotton knot and would not stick back on. This dug into his back when he was laying, making the pain even worse. I pulled it off and thought to myself “No problem, I'll simply track down a nurse and get a new one to put on.” Of course, everything must be complicated when it comes to the medical field. I walked out of his room and saw a passing nurse. I walked up to her and told her that “I need a bandage for a bedsore about 3x3 inches square." She told me she would go check for one. “Thank you…” I said. I waited patiently.
A while later, one of the head nurses from the nurse's station comes strutting down the hallway. She said, “I was told you took his bandage off?!” I said, “Well it came off, and then I took it off.” She spastically told me, “You're not supposed to do that!” ...after listening to her go on about how I shouldn’t have done that for a while, I had had enough and raised my voice. "I already told you! The bandage rolled off and would not go back on, so then I took it off! Do you not understand? I simply need a new bandage to put on him." She was flabergasted. For this long, I had mostly kept my mouth shut and was nice and polite and no one knew what I was capable of. She was so shaken that she began to call me mam.
I said, “Do you not have any bandages?” I asked, “Can you not bring me a bandage and let me put it on?" She told me that “You’re not allowed to do that. We have to have it authorized first.” I shook my head and said, “No one is taking care of him, he can't even take one step forward. I need help. I should be allowed to put a bandage on him, period.”
After making it clear what he needed and them assuring me they would handle it, I eventually left to go eat an afternoon lunch and prepare more food for my grandpa.
When I returned a couple of hours later, I found out that it had taken them nearly 2 hours to put a simple bandage on his back. Then, the bandage was only an inch square—far too small. On top of this, they had left him in a wheelchair for 3 hours. There are many more issues that I faced which I will not detail here and now.
Later that day, the nursing home director came by to placate me and apologize for their inactivity. He told me that they would try to do a better job. I was hopeful now that perhaps something would change. Nothing changed. I was not surprised.
Days later, he began to have oxygen problems yet again. On the night of December 17th, 24 days after the initial fall, I noticed him barely able to suck fluid through a straw. I tried to figure out what the problem was and concluded his lung strength was weakening. His pneumonia had never healed. Being bedridden had caused even more fluid to build. I went back later that night and saw that his problem had slightly improved after having fed him some raw milk.
The following morning, I went into his room to find him once again despondent and confused. At least this time, they had the sense to have him on oxygen already by the time I arrived that morning. I requested once again that he be taken to the ER. Before EMTs arrived, the head nurse that I had gotten into an argument with about the bandage took another swab sample to test for 'COVD'. The test read positive. This time, he had a fever of 102°F. His heart rate was elevated to 112 BPM. His pneumonia had become worse. The nurse then tested his roommate who had just arrived a day and a half earlier. He also tested positive but had zero symptoms.
Later that morning, my grandpa would be tested via PCR at the hospital which would also come up positive. Both times I was never shown the test. I later requested his labs be printed off. There, it said PCR positive for SARS-CoV-2. This is the only evidence I saw.
Around three days later, my dad had gotten ahold of a few rapid antigen test kits to test himself because he had a cough, similar to mine. I knew the unreliable nature of such tests. He was vaccinated about two years ago with Pfizer even after I lectured him many times not to get vaccinated. He tested negative. His cough continued to persist for days thereafter.
I was apprehensive to try such a test but felt it would be a learning experience. I followed the instructions and did everything according to the insert. My test showed positive. 72 hours later, I took the same brand test again (Abbot). I tested negative. My viral symptoms persisted for two more weeks until resolution.
After taking the test, I, along with my bio-lab tech friend, carefully read and studied the insert for three days. Through this, I learned of the finicky and fraudulent nature of these tests which I write about further below.
Notes on my viral detoxification
The moment I noticed my most severe problems starting was on the second trip to the hospital 25 miles away, 2 days after my grandpa’s fall. I was worried and under a lot of stress. I felt the back of my throat tingling and getting sore. I knew exactly what was happening—I was developing a cold. It was pouring rain and nearly freezing out. Getting out of the vehicle and running to the door of the hospital, I didn’t have an umbrella and my clothes got wet. I was shivering. It rained like that for 1 solid week while my grandpa was in the hospital there. Each day I and my dad traveled to and from the hospital. Each day I endured the damp, humid, and cold environment compounded with stress, disagreements, and hospital cleaning fumes. On the evening of the 3rd day, I was beginning to feel sicker. I began to eat more raw foods to counteract the symptoms, but this may have caused my body to cleanse even faster and more severely. I had felt this kind of detoxification before in years past. I knew what to expect.
Mere days later, I developed severe neuralgia-like head pain, burning and sensitive skin when touched, and lower back pain. I treated these symptoms with heat, which reduced the pain considerably. I did not record a fever throughout my experience, although I am certain I had low-level fever fluctuations throughout.
My symptoms eased for a few days. 1 week later, I began to have intense mucus discharge and cough. I began to feel lightheaded with intense pain behind my eyes, almost preventing me from turning my eyes to the sides. This made driving difficult and dangerous.
I lost my sense of smell and taste for 2 weeks. Food tasted like nothing. I couldn’t smell anything. However, I could still taste salt. I felt my cough was dry. I began to consume a single raw egg every couple of hours to help build mucus to bind with toxins. This helped, but I realized I had to continue doing it for days. This loosened the cough and eased the dryness.
At night, the cough was at its worst. I realized that laying down caused my lungs to fight themselves and complicate the discharge of fluids and mucus. Sleep became difficult for 1 week due to cough. Convulsive and dry coughing fits persisted. My eyes became bloodshot red and I developed pink eye in my left eye. Some of this was due to dry air from indoor heating. This was short-lived and reduced over a period of 3 days. At this time, I knew I had developed a viral detoxification.
All of the symptoms I describe are not out of the norm to me and is something I experience very rarely. Normally, one or a combination of symptoms will occur when the weather changes into the cold and damp rainy season or during spring when trees and flowers blossom. I inquired with friends around the world. Most of them had also developed respiratory problems around the same time as I did. This was further confirmation that viral outbreaks depend heavily on seasonal changes and that cells react biochemically in cleansing actions in accordance with those changes.
Do recall that I was just beginning to develop detoxification symptoms as far back as late November, going into early December, right as the weather began to get very cold. If viruses were contagious, I would have given it to my grandpa early on and he would have tested positive far earlier than Dec 18th, considering I was up in his face the entire time speaking to him. His heavy symptoms did not start until a week and a half before his death, and this occurred after administering heavy antibiotic treatment and other medications. Medical treatment and neglect heavily contributed to his death.
After 1 month, almost all of my symptoms have resolved and I feel normal again. In fact, I feel healthier now.
Everyone should understand the illusory nature of detoxification and of the timeline of so-called 'contagious illness' and why it appears contagious. Obviously, his roommate could not have given my grandpa 'COVID'—there was not enough time for the exchange to occur and test positive if we go by medical doctrine. I have deemed this the Illusion of Viral Activity. It is paramount that everyone understands why detoxifications occur in groups of people all at the same time at varying levels. Instead, most see only the surface level of such illness and assume it to be contagious. The same is true for many medical researchers. Most of them do not understand the complete health and nutrition puzzle.
Every five to six months, you will normally see a sudden outbreak of viral illnesses. This is in accordance with the seasonal changes.
From June to November, December to April, April to September, September to February, February to July, July to November. (see below)
As well, everyone needs to also understand the nature of rapid antigen tests—they are not what they have been made out to be. In fact, I would say that they are fraudulent in nature when one studies the fine print of such tests. In the fine print of at least one test (by Abbot), it clearly states that the test will detect and treat SARS-CoV-1 and SARS-CoV-2 as the same virus, thus, it will treat CoV-1 as CoV-2. It also detects other coronaviruses of related nature and labels any positive as CoV-2 positive. I consider this fraudulent.
The insert reads:
“The BinaxNOW COVID-19 Antigen Self Test does not differentiate between SARS-CoV and SARS-CoV-2.”
”Positive results do not rule out bacterial infection or co-infection with other viruses.”
p.1 BinaxNOW insert
My grandpa was taken to a larger hospital 1 hour away, which would make daily travel more difficult, especially in 5-degree °F weather and icy conditions. He was placed into a ‘COVID’ isolation ward where he would be monitored. However, once again, they continued to keep him in bed with little to no movement. After 3 days of him being there, and showing signs of improvement, I began to get equipment into the house to prepare for his return back home. However, soon after, I received a phone call at night from a head doctor that claimed his condition had worsened and he needed to be on more oxygen. I was asked if I thought he should be intubated and put on a ventilator. I said no. The following day, I contacted an attending nurse and she claimed he was doing better.
The next morning, as we were preparing to go visit him, the doctor called to inform me his condition had worsened and that he likely would not make it. He asked me if I wanted him to be taken to the ICU and put on a ventilator. I said no. He agreed with me. 35 minutes later, he called back and I was informed he had died.
My grandpa was just another person to them; another number. If he had not fallen and been subjected to the medical establishment, he could have lived more years under my care. At every step, I saw that the right hand does not know what the left is doing when it comes to the medical field. They were unorganized and unaware of the minutia of symptoms that he presented. Shuffling between three hospitals and a nursing home, I began to see their lack of cohesion and understanding of his conditions and that they were in complete disarray. Information was hidden and not openly shared, leaving me to have to go on wild goose chases to find out what was going on about chemistries and labs I had no idea about. Every report was inconsistent with the last, leading to confusion about the true nature of his various conditions, which I am still trying to piece together.
His death was caused by laying in bed for nearly 4 weeks straight with little to no movement (except what I gave him), improper care (neglect), little to no food or fluids, strong antibiotics and other medications, as well as improper post-surgery care (properly correcting any blood loss and fully addressing anemic condition).
To blame ‘COVD’ for his death would be asinine, yet that is exactly what they did. It is evident to me that he eventually developed some level of viral load to help reverse his pneumonia condition, thus testing positive for (a) coronavirus.
He also likely developed some form of allergy and subsequent detoxification from being around cleansers and perfumes for many days in an artificial and stagnant environment he was not used to. All of these things in combination make it difficult to pin down the answer because they all happened at the same time.
The answers are likely to be gleaned from my own detoxification and how it played out and the causative factors around me.
In the end, I was unable to save my grandpa. In hindsight, I regret not having the necessary strength, foresight, and courage to remove him from the medical system. I attempted the best way I knew how at that moment. More often than not, you do not come out of the medical cartel alive. I knew the moment he fell that he had sealed his fate if he was to go to the hospital. I knew that the medical system would eventually kill him with its treatments and procedures. Sadly, I was right…
Those that control our fears, control our mind and body.
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