Susan
515 posts






For the last 14 months, I've been confined to a world that's shrunk to the size of my bedroom, unable to walk far or venture out. My life has become a series of small, cautious steps just to keep my body from seizing up entirely. Life? That's a distant memory, even as a passenger; the road is no longer my path to explore. I'm haunted by my vaccine injury which causes episodes that mimic ischemic strokes—sudden, terrifying. My esophagus and larynx spasm, hypercranial tension, sinus swelling, occipital and trigeminal neuralgia stealing my breath away, forcing me to lie down and focus every ounce of my being on calming my body. This ordeal repeats 3-4 times daily, a relentless cycle. And that’s just a small portion of the symptomatic. Cant work anymore. Can’t do groceries, can’t go for walks longer than a quarter mile mostly less, can’t help my family and friends, can’t drive a car, I pretty much can’t do anything more. Eating is a battle due to the swallowing issues and massive muscular decline in my jaw and face muscles. Breathing is also a big issues due to my paralysed diaphragm. 2024 has been a brutal chapter, isolating me from both my life and society, all because of a vaccine injury. Yet, the story isn't over; we press on. Before this confinement, my life was a globe-trotting adventure, with over 100 countries stamped in my passport. Now, stepping outside my front door feels like a small victory, a moment to be grateful for. As we approach Christmas, I wish you warmth, joy, and the company of loved ones. May God be with you. In the depths of despair, there's always a flicker of light, a whisper of hope. I pray that 2025 brings an end to our suffering or ushers in a brighter future. It seems only God can save us now, as doctors, government, friends, and even family have drifted away, their concern fading. I understand their distance; being a burden is a role no one aspires to play. Miss the Good Old Days 2019. Used to run and walk miles and miles in nature. Ah, the Good Old Days of 2019, when I could lose myself in nature, running and walking for miles on end, free and invigorated. Then came July 21st, 2021, the day of my vaccination and everything changed. Since then, over three years have passed in what I call Doctor Misery, witnessing a relentless decline in my physical and neurological well-being. It's been a long, arduous battle from that day to this, December 22nd, 2024, and I know the struggle will persist. Sadly, there's been little to no help or support along this journey. Yet, what truly matters is that our stories are being shared, our voices heard. Peace be with you!







This is NOT what you want for your child. Day 18 in the hospital. Covid-19 vax injured since 2021. Cody is still in the hospital right now. This is his 5th stroke. He has blood clots in all four limbs and two blood clots in the heart. COMPARE- From the below video created in August 2024, to this video taken this week. From 25 mile a week runner in 2021 and 4.0 college student in 2022, to losing the use of all limbs- then fighting back over and over again to re-learn to talk, walk, read, eat independently and more. Cody only had shots in 2021. Mom and dad did NOT want him to get them. He has autism and was coerced. He was left with a life threatening- terminal blood clotting disorder and multiple autoimmune disorders suddenly (in a short period of time). He finally started getting the immune modulation treatment he needs after his 5th stroke and after the team here found he had an autoimmune HEART blood clotting condition called Libman Sacks. He has no help from the government- DONATE if you can: givesendgo.com/Amothersanthem He needs extensive immune modulation and treatment. He has NO government help. He has no disability- he was denied! Please Help Cody to go into remission and help him get all the care he needs! He speaks out on vax injury on a state and national level! He is fighting for other kids! We have extensive financial burdens as we have to move to Orlando to get him the immune modulation care that can possibly put him into remission and save his life. This is his chance! Please help Cody🙏 DONATE if you can: givesendgo.com/Amothersanthem Please help if you are able. Please pray. Please repost and share to your social media. Cody’s case is so severe, it is a published case study on C-19 vax injury. A new study is being written. It seems that no one has survived the amount of blood clotting, strokes, PEs, DVTs as he has! Again, Mom and Dad did NOT want him to get the shots! He has autism and was coerced. We would do anything to rewind the clock and he would do anything to erase the two days he had Covid-19 shots. Pray for Cody! @MargaretAnnaAl1 @VictorsVoice2 @NickCaturano @KirstinCosgrove @docbiss @RWMaloneMD @uTobian @RetsefL





Damning study of over a million kids finds myocarditis only in the vaccinated dlvr.it/TRb0dz








After 61 days in the NICU, our Solomon was finally released last week to come start life at home. Thank you for all of your prayers; it was the darkest, scariest, worst two months of my life. But God showed his grace to us in so many ways, and many people banded together to allow me to spend every single day with him in the NICU. We are so grateful to the nurses who loved him like their own; to his physical therapist who is helping him overcome & adapt to his disabilities; to the doctors who performed his surgery; to our priest who baptized him in the hospital; to the friends and family who packed lunches for us, and watched our toddler, and did our laundry, who prayed with and for us and still do. I am grateful in particular for my husband and my mom, who showed me Christlike grace throughout, and for our 3-year-old, who didn't let his joy become dampened by all this fear and sorrow—an example from which we could all stand to learn. "I remain confident of this," Psalm 27 reminds us. "I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." The Lord's goodness has been shown to us every day of these 61. People sometimes denigrate Christians as just those seeking comfort, needing a story to tell themselves. But yes! We are comforted by the Lord. He shows up for us in all kinds of ways, when we're looking—and when we're not. And He looks after the scared and grieving mother, the sick and vulnerable child, the family in need. He did for us, many times over. And many of you did, too, through prayer and acts of kindness. Thank you.

King Solomon died yesterday at two and a half months old. We loved him really well, and we don't have any regrets. We got nine days at home with him after 61 days in the NICU. Nine will never feel like enough, but we must accept what is given to us––we were never in control. Let's take stock of all God's mercies, how He worked through people: My OB, who heard my conviction about carrying Sol to term even with his disabilities, and supported it fully, with empathy and respect; the nurses in the Lenox Hill NICU, where he spent the majority of his time, who loved him so tenderly, like he was their own; his physical therapist, who saw extreme hope for him despite his disabilities, and tried to make it so; my mom, who put her own life on hold to come live in New York with us for the whole winter, to watch Zev and keep our household running; Zev, who wanted to wear matching pajamas with his brother each night he was home (and some of the nights Sol was in the NICU), who was eager to come to the hospital with us to play in the lobby even though he wasn't often allowed in the NICU, who chose not to be afraid of hospitals or tubes but to touch and kiss and snuggle his brother whenever he was able; @nwilliams030 and @rSanti97, who camped out at the hospital during Sol's final days so we would never feel alone, who watched Zev whenever our family had to dip back down to Texas; the people who covered us in prayer all over the country. Perhaps most of all, I'm grateful for my husband: He wasn't Catholic or pro-life when we met, but life experience has brought him to these beliefs. They ground us now; his faith is steadfast. He didn't leave Sol's side during those final, hardest days. He doesn't falter. Something tragic happened to our family, but we won't become permanently sad or dark; we really believe in God's promises. We're called to hope, no matter what, and the best we can do is serve our children with everything we've got. That's what we did, and in the process we got to glimpse the goodness of the Lord over and over again.









