I have been working furiously the past two weeks trying to get prepared for my shoulder surgery tomorrow. The house is clean, extra meals and cookies are frozen for use, protective plastic has pulled away from protein drinks so I just have to twist the cap and I have made sure my pantry is stocked with easily accessible snacks and soups so I won't have to hunt around for anything. I have purchased shirts that button up the front and a hat I can wear to church since it will be impossible to do my hair and makeup for a few weeks. I've even tried dressing myself, eating, and washing my hair with only the use of my non-dominant hand. I have two wonderfully soft comforters and a number of pillows ready to use while I try to sleep in one of my recliners for the next 6 weeks.
To keep myself entertained while I'm confined to my house and unable to do even the simplest things without a great deal of effort, I have three large stacks of books ready to read along with an entire binder filled with movies that are clean enough to watch without having my spirit vexed. I gave up on regular TV years ago and substituted cable with the old rabbit ears that offer plenty of variety if I get bored enough. I've learned how to check my phone for alternate news sources because I haven't believed anything coming from mainstream media for over a decade. It's hard knowing that everything we hear from so-called trustworthy anchors has been scripted by the same source of big government and big everything else. Gone are the days when we actually knew what was going on in the world without doing a ton of original research. But then I was given an inquisitive mind and know that God expects me to use it.
In a way I feel like this surgery will bring me closer to my brother who was run over by a tandem disk when he was three and completely paralyzed on the right side of his body. It was excruciatingly painful watching him try to regain movement, but despite all the agony he rarely cried as his poor little limbs were pulled this way and that trying to regain any movement. The accident happened in the early 1950s and physical therapy had yet to come into being but the surgeons did the best they could. I remember my father converting a grocery shopping card into a kind of walker so he could pull his little body around the house as he worked to remain even a small portion of what he had lost.
He passed away three years ago and a day seldom goes by when I do not think about him and the strength and patience he developed throughout a lifetime of disability, people making fun of him and never being able to do most of the things other people took for granted. I suppose some of the closeness I felt to him came because we were next to each other in age and in a moment of stress and panic my mother vocally blamed me for the accident. I was 5 and took everything she said literally. I watched out for him as best I could for the rest of his life, but that wasn't easy because he was so independent and his heart was as big as the great outdoors and he never wanted to be considered different than anyone else. His kindness and understanding were a blessing in so many people's lives and he taught me more than words can adequately express. I look forward watching him run and jump and play ball when I join him in the life that comes next. His big smile is the first thing I want to see.
That's why I'm trying to be as brave and positive as I can about shoulder surgery that will stop me from doing so many things I take for granted for a few months. How blessed we are to have amazing bodies that can heal almost any injury or illness and that allow us to love and serve others as Christ did during his journey on earth. I want my heart to become as big as my brothers and to learn how to accept setbacks for the opportunities they offer to learn and grow and become better people. I'm hoping it won't take 2 or 3 months before I'm able to type with more than one finger of my left hand because I know I'm going to have more to say about this part of my own journey.
But before I close, there has been something on my mind I have wanted to share for several weeks and it is about the Covid shots we were forced to take or risk being persecuted for disobedience. Something inside told me they weren't good but I allowed myself to be persuaded by people I thought had our best interest in mind. I recall driving to the big arena where our cars were sent to different stations and men in military uniforms were ready to give us the jab. I told the man with the syringe in his hand that I didn't want to get it. He said I could come back later if I didn't feel comfortable about doing it right now. My reply was that I wouldn't be back if I left. Looking back, I should have listened when he gave me an out because I certainly didn't feel good after I got it. The heart palpitations stared and I got really sick to my stomach and felt like I couldn't breathe. But the medic on duty turned me loose after checking my blood pressure and making sure I was able to drive.
I got the second injection and 2 boosters before I garnered enough courage to tell people, especially two very persistent sisters, that I wasn't doing it again. Oh how I wish I had followed my God-given instinct from the very beginning, but like most everyone else I didn't want to be confined to home and needed to be out helping and serving others. My son got Covid and was in the hospital for three days and my son-in-law was in the hospital for over a week with it. We nearly lost both of them and the repercussions for that manmade and released virus has left both of them with issues they never had before. Several young men in our community died from heart attacks shorty after getting jabbed.
So I wasn't the least bit surprised upon hearing a report about six weeks ago. The lead data administrator for Covid response in New Zealand was arrested on November 3 after releasing a study he had made about the increase in deaths among individuals receiving each batch of Covid vaccine administered in his country. The spike proteins in the Covid vaccine cut off the immune system triggering cancer, two forms of heart disease and certain types of pneumonia. He created an algorithm to track each batch of vaccine and how many deaths occurred among the recipients during the next two years. His findings were shocking. You should look up the statistical data presented in his charts. They went from 2 or 3 deaths in a batch to over 60 percent of the recipients.
His study was confined to New Zealand, but he also said that there was no increase in deaths worldwide during the pandemic but a 40 percent spike after 2021. There was an almost 900% increase in heart related deaths in the military among enlisted men, but the officers death rate remained steady. He said that anyone could get on the Internet and look up the ID number of the batch they received and read the statistics on it. He also said that part of the shots were merely a saline solution because the drug companies were testing it's effectiveness since that hadn't been done before its release. Whether or not the red states really received the most lethal batches, I have yet to conform on my own. But considering the political climate in our country it wouldn't surprise me.
In addition to hearing that report, I also learned that an antidote to the vaccine had been developed but it's very expensive and hard to get. However if someone really wanted to rid their body of the harmful spike proteins a three-day fast from both food and water would also work. It was simple but so unpleasant most people didn't want to try it. The moderator had not received any of the Covid injections but wanted to test the fast out before recommending it to his listeners. He was heading into his final hours of the treatment during that broadcast and doing quite well, except for being a little grouchy the night before. His wife told him to go to bed.
Given my own distrust of the vaccine and not feeling at all like my old self after taking the original shots and two boosters, I decided to give it a try. After all, I regularly fast for 24 hours to give both my body and spirit a rest. But by the morning of the second day I felt so weak all I could do was move from one chair to another and read a book. I kept telling myself that with God's help anything is possible and made myself stay out of the kitchen. The third day wasn't at all bad, but I was ready to eat by the time the 72 hours were over.
The hardest part for me was introducing food and water into my system again. There was plenty of stomach cramping and the dreaded diarrhea the next two days but I felt so much lighter and cleaner. Even if it didn't get rid of all the spike proteins it was supposed to, I felt closer to my Heavenly Father and my Savior than I had for quite some time. It's amazing how our focus changes when we're denied things our bodies want. Perhaps part of it is feeling the weakness of our mortal body and knowing how truly dependent we are when it comes to the things that matter most in this life.
In less than twenty-four hours I will be at the surgical center. It's been hard to sleep the past few nights and I doubt tonight will be much better. I was fitted for the brace that is meant to keep my shoulder immobile a couple of hours ago. It's far more uncomfortable than I thought it would be, but at least I can do up the straps with one hand. The hard part will be relaxing enough not to move my shoulder up and down when I get stiff and tired from sitting or standing. But like with everything else in life, I know I can do this with help from my eternal Father.
How grateful I am for Him and for my beloved Savior. We're in a new year now and one that likely won't be that pleasant with a scheduled presidential election, the war in the Middle East that could so easily see our ground forces becoming involved, the natural disasters happening everywhere, the absolutely unbelievable number of illegals that are being allowed across the border without being vetted and who are using over half the money set aside for welfare that was supposed to assist people in our country legally, and all the vocal protesting from militant factions that will become more violent as the weeks progress.
Not the most uplifting thoughts for the second day of January, but my prayers are with all the faithful patriots who are risking prosecution, fortunes, safety and even their own lives to keep us informed about the evil designs of the men and women whose only goal is to rule the entire world. I'm hoping to learn a great deal more about them and how I can better help as I do my own heavy-duty studying throughout many weeks of recovery and therapy.
May your day be bright, your spirit strong and your soul filled with hope. God is in charge and we all have our own part to play during this life journey. May we never forget our divine origin, how many people are watching over us and how resilient we really are. Despite many unwelcome challenges we are richly blessed.
