was that of my friend Norm and it was Norm himself who informed me that his death was a
DIRECT RESULT of doctor-prescribed medication he’d taken.
Norm was often a passenger on the rural bus I take into town and that was where I met him. He was
about seventy years old and was the nicest guy you could ever meet. We became friends and he
always stopped and chatted with me whenever I ran into him around town. One day he confided to
me that he’d been to his doctor for a checkup and had been diagnosed with cancer. But the thing
was, to look at him he appeared absolutely healthy. And I even asked him if he was in any pain or
discomfort as a result of the cancer and he told me he felt perfectly fine. Nonetheless, he said that
his doctor had ordered him to begin undergoing cancer treatments so that’s what he did.
Now, having just seen my dad be mercilessly snuffed out by the medical system, I immediately
became concerned for my friend Norm, feeling that treatment would likely put his health, not to
mention his life, in jeopardy. My instinct told me that medical treatment would only hurt him, not
help him. And boy was I ever right about that.
Not too long afterward, maybe a month or so later, I happened to be leaving Powell River General
Hospital, having been there for an appointment, when I saw a man stumble out of a vehicle (I can’t
remember if he was in an ambulance or not, he might have arrived in a taxi) and stagger towards the
front entrance. As I looked at the man, it suddenly struck me that -- holy shit! -- that’s my friend
Norm! And jeez did he look rough. He looked like death warmed over, like a zombie who’d just
crawled out of a grave. His color was ashen gray and his face was contorted into a hollow grimace
and he was holding his stomach in extreme pain. He looked like he’d been shot in the gut with a
gun. I barely recognized him. Man, was he ever in bad shape.
Anyway, I immediately said hello to him and asked him what was wrong and he managed to croak
out that the previous evening he’d taken the medication he’d been prescribed by his doctor and had
become violently ill afterwards. It was his medication that’d made him sick! That was the extent of
our conversation. I quickly wished him well and he continued on his way into the facility.
I never did see Norm again and I later heard that he died that very night in the hospital.
So there you have it. I was able to see firsthand how someone who appeared to be perfectly healthy
was felled by receiving medical treatment in Powell River. My suspicions about the mortal danger
of receiving medical care here had been concretely confirmed.
Then there was my friend Mich. Mich was fifty years old and lived a mile or two down the highway
from me and we met waiting for the bus and got to know one another. But, like my dad and Norm,
Mich suddenly just disappeared. After a few months I happened to ask the bus driver if Mich still
took the bus and he told me that Mich had died in his home of a heart attack. Then I met Mich’s
roommate one day at the bus stop and he told me how he was the one who found Mich dead on the
couch in their living room. However, according to him his cause of death hadn’t been determined.
Now, the thing is, Mich had told me that he was taking prescription medication for ailments. Thus
it’s my suspicion that it was the medication that killed him. And having interacted with him, I didn’t
get the impression that he was someone in ill health. He too looked perfectly fine to me.
Then there’s another friend who I’ll call Cameron. Cameron I saw often around town and we would
chat over coffee occasionally and communicate via the Internet quite regularly. One day when I saw
him he was picking up a prescription of medication from a pharmacy. Then things got crazy.
Immediately after that I got a handful of desperate e-mail messages from him in which he said he’d
become almost completely debilitated to the point where it was virtually impossible for him to write
even the simplest e-mail. In one instance he explained how it had taken him something like half an
hour just to write a short message. Then he disappeared altogether. No more encounters around
town, no more e-mails, no more nothing. He too just vanished. Of course I feared the worst for
him.
But then a couple of months later I was riding my bike and there he was, sitting at a bus stop. He
was still alive! Thank goodness for that! But he was a completely different person. The life was
gone from him. His head had been shaved and seemed a little misshapen and he looked like he was
in a confused daze. It was as if he’d had a lobotomy. I stopped and asked him how he was doing
and he told me he’d suffered a severe heart attack that had totally fucked up his brain.
Of course I connected his purchase of drugs from a pharmacy when I’d previously seen him to this
heart attack he’d been struck with. And now it seems as though he’s become trapped in the medical
system. They’ve got him undergoing radiation treatments which are extremely punishing to his
health; he’s increasingly more fragile and frail every time I encounter him. When I ran into him on
the street last week he could barely walk.
And another friend told me how he had a similar medication reaction too. And at the exact same
pharmacy where Cameron was getting his meds! My other friend told me how he’d taken
medication he picked up there and as he was getting into his vehicle in the parking lot after leaving
the pharmacy he was suddenly hit with heart attack-like chest pains. A woman in the parking lot saw
him and became concerned and called an ambulance and he was rushed to the hospital. And yes,
the condition had been a side effect of the medication he’d taken, although fortunately it wasn’t a
heart attack and he recovered completely.
Further condemning this pharmacy which I call the Drugstore from Hell, one day in 2014 I actually
witnessed someone being wheeled out of it on a stretcher by paramedics! More about the
Drugstore from Hell next month!
And you might remember how in “Stuff” #19 the Marijuana Messiah stated how when his neighbor
who had bone cancer received medical treatment his liver and his kidneys shut down and he was
dead within three months. And I also wrote about a woman I met whose father was admitted to the
hospital under mental health pretenses and the next thing she knew he was on life support in
intensive care and they were consulting her regarding pulling the plug on him. And then there was
the Jehovah’s Witness who used to come to my door who confided to me about how soon after
moving to PR his wife died while being treated here for an illness.
And you might also recall how in “Stuff” #14 Marcel Perigny revealed that his wife had died in the
hospital via the ongoing administration of a large dose of morphine. He said they called this method
of euthanasia “snowballing.” Substantiating that this practice is going on, in January 2015 a
neighbor told me he saw how they use morphine to kill people in St. Paul’s Hospital in Vancouver.
When my neighbor’s best friend was admitted to St. Paul’s Hospital he said the dosage of morphine
the hospital was pumping into him was increased exponentially over a very short two or three day
period until it was at a lethal level. How did he know this? He witnessed it firsthand. Prior to the
death, he received a phone call from his friend at the hospital in which his friend told him that he was
going to die (or be killed?) imminently. My friend then immediately traveled down to St. Paul’s and
it was when he visited him in the hospital that he saw what was happening. As happened to my
father, his friend passed away almost immediately after being admitted to the facility.
Then a couple months later this same neighbor confided to me how another friend of his had died
under sudden and unusual circumstances. And yes, this person too was being treated by the
medical system and was on meds. One day he was alive, the next day he was found dead in his
home. He told me that Powell River is notorious for having a much higher rate of medical system-
related deaths than anywhere else. Well yeah, could that be any more obvious? He also put forth
the theory that perhaps it’s something in the drinking water that’s killing people, but from what I’ve
seen and been told the primary culprit is medication and medical treatment.
Confirming this, in February 2015 a Facebook friend posted about the surprise death of a young
mother she knew. I asked her if the woman was on meds and I was told yes, as are most people in
PR. Once again medication reared its ugly head.
And remember how back in “Stuff” #9 I talked about death waves and how the driver of a bus I
take said he’d lost about ten passengers due to deaths? The very same day my neighbor told me
about the passing of his friend I learned of the death of yet another person I met on the bus. This
was the person who I told you in “Stuff” #24 had been picked up by the cops and thrown in jail
when he went to use the washroom at Sea Fair. Like Mich, he was a newcomer to Powell River.
He’d received an inheritance and decided to settle here about five years ago. And like Mich, he died
almost as soon as he moved here as well. The supposed cause of his death was a brain aneurysm.
There was a period in 2015 when I was totally surrounded by death. If I wasn’t being told directly
about people dying, I was overhearing about it from folks talking about it in public places around
town.
The last passing I heard about in 2015 conformed to this medical system deathtrap precisely. One
day my friend Justin explained how his dad, after experiencing stomach pains, was eventually
diagnosed with stomach cancer and began taking medication. I warned him that, based on my
observations of the medical system here, his dad might not be around much longer. He was
surprised to hear it and rejected my concerns. I immediately regretted speaking my mind and
assured my friend that his dad would probably be just fine. But sure enough, about a month later
Justin came to me and described how his father had suddenly become vehemently ill and had been
rushed to the hospital in an ambulance (with a fire engine attending his home as well!) only to die in
government care less than twenty-four hours later. Told you so!
As macabre as it sounds, it’s become very clear to me that the government may see killing patients
as a form of medical treatment and might be actively taking the lives of those who are in its care.
Now let me say that I do concede that when someone is ill, sick in a manner in which they don’t
want to go on, giving that person release from the torture of life is the most precious gift they could
ever receive. But the concern here is that it’s medical treatment itself that’s causing the deterioration
of their health -- with euthanasia being the end result. And if that’s the case it sounds a lot like
government-sponsored murder doesn’t it? As well, this is consistent with my observation that the
government has an agenda to destroy the town of Powell River. Keep in mind that killing people in
the medical system would be a quiet, concealed and effective way of carrying out a depopulation
program in the area.
That’s all for now but next month I’m going to conclude my series about the medical scene in PR
by recounting a bad experience I had with the Pharma-Nazis at the Drugstore from Hell!
