Kenny Carmody@KennyCarmody
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!
