Vaccines Are Dangerous!!
by
0mercury on 06/22/2008
Dr. Shiv Chopra, as a vaccine and drug regulator for Health Canada for nearly forty years, evaluated every red-hot topic in public health. He tried,...
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WELCOME TO BEIRUT by Susan F. Rzucidlo
(Beginner's Guide to Autism)
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with
autism-to try and help people who have not shared in that unique
experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like
this.."
There you are, happy in your life, one or two little ones at your
feet. Life is complete and good. One of the children is a little
different than the other but of course, he's like your in-laws, and
you did marry into the family. It can't be all that bad. One day
someone comes up from behind you and throws a black bag over your
head. They start kicking you in the stomach and trying to tear your
heart out. You are terrified, kicking and screaming you struggle to
get away but there are too many of them, they overpower you and stuff
you into a trunk of a car. Bruised and dazed, you don't know where
you are. What's going to happen to you? Will you live through this?
This is the day you get the diagnosis. "YOUR CHILD HAS AUTISM"!
There you are in Beirut, dropped in the middle of a war. You don't
know the language and you don't know what is going on. Bombs are
dropping "Life long diagnosis" and "Neurologically impaired". Bullets
whiz by "refrigerator mother" " A good smack is all HE needs to
straighten up". Your adrenaline races as the clock ticks away your
child's chances for "recovery". You sure as heck didn't sign up for
this and want out NOW! God has over estimated your abilities.
Unfortunately, there is no one to send your resignation to. You've
done everything right in your life, well you tried, well, you weren't
caught too often. Hey! you've never even heard of autism before. You
look around and everything looks the same, but different. Your family
is the same, your child is the same, but now he has a label and you
have a case worker assigned to your family. She'll call you soon. You
feel like a lab rat dropped into a maze.
Just as you start to get the first one figured out ( early
intervention) they drop you into a larger more complex one (school).
Never to be out done, there is always the medical intervention maze.
That one is almost never completed.
There is always some new "miracle" drug out there. It helps some
kids, will it help yours? You will find some if the greatest folks in
the world are doing the same maze you are, maybe on another level but
a special-ed maze just the same. Tapping into those folks is a great
life line to help you get through the day. This really sucks but hey,
there are still good times to be had. WARNING! You do develop and odd
sense of humor. Every so often you get hit by a bullet or bomb not
enough to kill you, only enough to leave a gaping wound. Your child
regresses for no apparent reason, and it feels like a kick in the
stomach. Some bully makes fun of your kid and your heart aches.
You're excluded from activities and functions because of your child
and you cry. Your other children are embarrassed to be around your
disabled child and you sigh. You're insurance company refuses to
provide therapies for "chronic, life long conditions" and your blood
pressure goes up. Your arm aches from holding onto the phone with yet
another bureaucrat or doctor or therapist who holds the power to
improve or destroy the quality of your child's life with the stroke
of a pen. You're exhausted because your child doesn't sleep.
And yet, hope springs eternal.
Yes there is hope. There ARE new medications. There IS research going
on. There are interventions that help. Thank God for all those who
fought so hard before you came along. Your child will make progress.
When he speaks for the first time, maybe not until he is 8 yrs old,
your heart will soar. You will know that you have experienced a
miracle and you will rejoice. The smallest improvement will look like
a huge leap to you. You will marvel at typical development and
realize how amazing it is. You will know sorrow like few others and
yet you will know joy above joy. You will meet dirty faced angels on
playgrounds who are kind to your child without being told to be.
There will be a few nurses and doctors who treat your child with
respect and who will show you concern and love like few others.
Knowing eyes will meet yours in restaurants and malls, they'll
understand, they are living through similar times. For those people
you will be forever grateful. Don't get me wrong. This is war and its
awful. There are no discharges and when you are gone someone else
will have to fight in your place.
But, there are lulls in wars, times when the bullets aren't flying
and bombs aren't dropping. Flowers are seen and picked. Life long
friendships are forged. You share and odd kinship with people from
all walks of life. Good times are had, and because we know how bad
the bad times are, the good times are even better. Life is good but
your life in never normal again, but hey, what fun is normal.
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Look what we are doing to these children. This is worse than the Polio Epidemic. These children are trapped in their own bodies. Say no to vaccines. We must stop poisoning our children!!!! Autism the silent Holocaust~ 0mercury
How an Autistic Child thinks......
Nobody can see my disability. I look just like every other kid-attractive, walking, making sound's. They can't see how my neurons are scrambled in my brain. They can't see the misconnections between the left and right brain. Nobody can see I have autism.
Nobody can see that my body is sick. No one can see that my stomach is in knots from my digestive system not working. No one can that my body and mind are starving because my cells don't make the right enzymes to digest food. No one see that I suffer from low blood sugar because I can't properly metabolize nourishment.
No one can see that my body is attacking its own nerve cells from auto-immune dysfunction. No one can see that mercury lead and arsenic cannot be excreted from my body, so it keeps building up in my brain. No one understands that my body cannot tolerate normal enjoyments for children, like bright, vivid colors and loud noises. I desperately want to be a kid and enjoy these things, but my body just won't let me.
But everyone can see how inappropriate my behavior can be when I am out in public. Everyone can see how immature I can be compared to other kids my age. Everyone sees the 2-year old tantrums when things have been too overwhelming for me. Everyone sees my frustration from trying to cope.
Everyone sees my screaming and fighting. Everyone just assumes I'm being bad, not that my body hurts, my eyes are in pain from colors, my ears ring with loud noises not heard by others.
Everyone sees my tantrums when I don't get my way. No one sees that I can't explain my fear when I think I'm not being understood. Everyone may see my screams when my mom takes something away from me. No one can see that having something of comfort can keep my fears under control for me, and taking it away makes my nerves explodes in anxiety.
No one understands how hard I have to work to keep my behaviors from reacting to the chemical imbalances in my body that makes me feel horrible. No one can see that, no matter how hard I try, sometimes I cannot control it. No one can see the shame I feel after I've had a meltdown from my body's problems.
What they don't see I am a person. I have feelings and want to be loved and accepted like everyone else. What they don't see is that, when they look at me like I need a good spanking; I understand that I'm not capable of controlling my body.
What they don't see is that I scream because I don't know how to say "HELP ME"
What they don't see is that I hear every ugly word they say, but for the life of me, I can't make my mouth say what I'm feeling. But they don't see that as a disability. They say I am unmanageable. They say I am a problem.
But I am not a problem. I HAVE AUTISM. My mom has taken me to more doctors and specialist than you can ever imagine. She's read more books and done more research on my disease than parents would ever want. She has tried special diet, supplements, drugs and various metabolic therapies. She has PRAYED for GUIDANCE and asked for discernment on how to help my body. And behaviors, OH YES, has she tried everything to help my behavior.
Stop telling her all I need is a spanking. If spanking would stop all this, my mom would gladly exchange my disability for a spanking. She knows better than all of you what I need to help me, and what we both need is your understanding, not ignorance.
I just want to be accepted and understood. No blamed and ashamed, I want to be appreciated for my gifts. I do have some if you look more closely. I want to be cared for as a person. I want you to care, even when I act like I don't.
I want to be respected, just like you do. I want you to respect my mom and dad for all the hard work they have done to help me try to lead a normal a life as possible. I want you to respect my family and all the struggles we have to endure because of our love for each other.
I want to be LOVED like any other child. And need you to role model respectful behavior for me so I can be respectful too. I want you to love me.
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