Sixth year - my wonderful but fragile recovery demolished by Them

I went to a doctor mainly to ask him to write No Quinolones, etc. on my records, accepted an anti-tetanus vaccination for no good reason (bossy, rude, rough nurse) - and look at the result:

At first not too bad..

..but then worse and worse:

They're infected now and I feel ghastly.
Also all the left side of my face and head is badly affected, with ringing tinnitus, swollen gland under chin, sore throat, earache, jaw-ache, eye socket aching and eye sore and fuzzed.

I knew I didn't need a tetanus jab, knew I didn't need to go to the doctor just for a badly cut finger, never have before,, but those phoney dog-rescuers had so unbalanced, confused and demeaned me that I had no sense or independence or confidence left.

God, i feel ill.

3rd. May
Getting worse..

I took ledum palustre 200c each morning and thuja 200c each evening for 5 days, then changed to silicea 200c and arsenicum album 200c which I'm still taking. I dabbed valerian tincture on each ulcer-thingie then coated it in green clay. After four days, most of the ulcers have gone and the big, disgusting, infected ones have nearly gone. Didn't take any antibiotics and, when the stupid G.P. said I had necrotising cellulitis and would probably have to have my legs amputated if I refused medication, I said that I'd rather die and, if anyone was going to cut off my legs, it'd be I myself. He ordered an ambulance and sent me to hospital urgencias (puking in a bag all the way) and they were more intelligent, but I still didn't take their medicine.

So NYER!

I'll upload some photos tomorrow. And am trotting about, chattoing and singing an' all. I feel tyriumphant and very grateful, as I'm happier here than I have been for ages and it'd be a shame to sabotage it so soon (or at all.)

19th. May: Still a long way to go with the ulcers, buit I'm feeling much better in every way - legs, poisoned feeling, exhaustion, feebleness in thein human relationships, everythuing. Thank you, homeopathy (and in this instance Christian Bayley of Practical Homeopathy and Ainsworths) and thank you, earth, for the plants and the green clay. Thank you, Earth, pity we've nearly finished murdering you and all your innocent life. We really are sorry, some of us.

xxx

Well, they were getting better and I felt a lot better, but nw they're on my arms and the larger ones on my legs are infected again. I feel sick and poisoned and worn out.

I realise now that the M.E. that hit me when I was 13, then went, came, went, came, went and came again was `robably set off by the BCG tuberculosis vaccine, only we never thought of such things at the time.

I wish I had someone for Moppi, just as i wanted for Kiti. Like Kiti, Moppi runs away and hides from everyone except me.

I think this is the thing that'll finish me off and I really hope so - it's time to say goodnight.

More photos soon. 

4th. July - my mouth is full of ulcers - it's too sore to eat and it hurts to speak (or if I don't.)

I do hope I'll die soon - I love it here, but it's all spoilt, I can't enjoy, or do, anything. I want to go home, I want my Mummy.

11.07.2015

getting worxsse, dreadfully sore moth, throat.

I wish I had someone for Moppi and that he weren't so terrified of everyone.

It's hard to believe, but I had lovely arms and legs - and body and hair and nails and everything. Now look (and please note that it takes courage to show all this disgustibng stuff.) I wish I had more pix of how I was before  :(

Nearly Christmas 2015

and the last six-and-a-half years have been worse than I could ever have imagined. I very much hope to die soon and wish I'd killed myself immediately I was quintoxicated. 

The poison from the dirty nurses' dirty needles is still ulceration my legs, mouth and the inside of my nose.

I've learned to hate humanity and to hate and despise Spain and the Spanish (which may be unfair, but I don't care.) 

Hope for quinolone victims? Yeah,  like hope for rainforest and ocean-dwellers. Hope is what we use when there isn't really any chance.

For six-and-a-half years, I've been trying to warn people, including doctos and vets, about fluoroquinolones. I must have warned thousands of people, perhaps twenty thousand, but perhaps fifty or a hundred have taken notice.

For six-and-a-half years, I've been trying to either get home (back to France or even England) or get properly organised and legalised here so that I could make a will and do some good by my death.

For six-and-a-half years, I've been trying to save Kiti, Kiti's children, various aspects of nature here and elsewhere.. ..oh, and other Good Things.. ..not worth it. This world of humans is too corrupt and too stupid and Spain is even worse than other places I've lived.

I'm still trying to find a future for Moppi (a sweet cat) and I hope finally to get my will made next month (but now there's not much to leave and anyway I no longer care) but it hasn't been worth it, I should have died immediately I was toxed and can hardly bear the wait till I can die and leave this ruined body, ruined life, ruined world.

All I've done in my life, all I've learned, all I've loved, all I've created, all I've cared for - all for nothing. Anything good will be implacably destroyed and evil will always beat good, because evil has no scruples. Better not to be born at all.

I have what I need to die and hope that very soon I'll be free to go. I just wish I'd done it much, much sooner (in my case, fourteen years ago, but certainly as soon as Kiti was killed or as soon as I was toxed.)

Well, it serves us all right that we're suffering - all modern humans are guilty and the fact that we exist proves that that the human "God" doesn't.

Next:

I think this is what happened:



The terrible thing is that the reason I went was that I'm registered with that doctor (no choice) and, as I'd never met him and have no records, I thought it'd be an opportunity to tell him about my horrible years of quintox-suffering and to tell him (in case I have an accident or something, which would be bound to happen one day) that I would not want any treatment of any kind, except amoxicillin if absolutely necessary or morphine if dying in agony and that I especially didn't want any skin-puncturing or vein-puncturing because my veins and my skin and the subcutaneous layers were so damaged. Also (and equally oor more importantly) I wanted to tell them that I won't accept any other treatment or vaccines or anything because all have been cruelly and unecessarily tested on animals in laboratories, so it serves us right if we then use them and suffer. But I never managed to tell them anything - they're so slippery and false and ignorant and stupid and complacent and sly and brutal - they interrupt, change the subject, slam you down, physically coerece you - anything rather than listen to, learn from or respect anyone (except very rich people, yuck.)
I tried to tell him, I really did, and then the nurse, but they're so slippery and so stupid, so mad and so aggressive that I didn't escape without a completely unecessary and absolutely unwanted anti-tetanus vaccination and being bullied and terrified into going back for the second, though I desperately didn't want to. But all these six-and-a-half years in bloody Spain, I've kept blaming myself - for being too trusting, for this, for that - but what about them? They should listen, they should know things, they should want to know more things, they should have respect for people, for truth, for their profession, for learning and knowledge, they should enquire and think, they should be polite, they shouldn't lie and cheat as a matter of course, they shouldn't be aggressive or violent or so xenophobic, vengeful and sexist, so cruel, coarse and uncaring (how I hate the Andalusian smile, so false) 

and..

..they are so STUPID, so IGNORANT and so complacent about their ignorance and stupidity. 

It's' hard to believe I'm in Europe. They've got all the trappings of modernity, but their mentality and basic education and knowledge haven't evolved after centuries of oppression and manipulation by the church, by aristocrats, generals and dictators, then sudden wealth, mostly from tourism and selling holiday houses.

So, for those of you reading in other countries, you should know that some (a lot) of what has happened to me is because I'm in Spain and you should be a bit safer elsewhere. I didn't even live here, but as no-one would listen or help, I never managed to go home to France.

I'm treating the ulcers with honey and sugar. It may not work, but it's better than their solution, which is to make me hobble exhaustedly to the "health centre" to queue for hours and have them dab on 'antibiotic cream' (I asked which antibiotic, but they don't know and it's not written on the tube) then a bandage that falls off by the time I get home.

I'm so tired
and so tired of my life, of this world, of myself and my mistakes. 

If only i hadn't offered to take Moppi. Obviously i didn't want another cat, but I thought it'd only be for 3 weeks. He not only loves and trusts me and depends on me - he's terrified of absolutely everyone else (quite rightly, considering where we are) so I can't get him adopted and when I die he'll be orphaned and misrable and won't survive. Kiti was murdered because I was so foolish as to trust and to drop my guard for one night; I wish I'd killed myself straight away after that. Now I'm stuck again. I don't adore Mop like I adored Kiti, but that doesn't change his rights or merits.
If I can kill Moppi (or find a better solution, but I tried and tried for Kiti and see no reason to believe it could be any better this time) then I can kill myself. I boight a helium tank two or three years ago, but that method isn't as simple ro as certain as it sounds - it's really more suitable for assisted suicide, when there'll be someone to make sure you don't fall over and rip off the bag or something) but now I have a better method - peaceful, painless and the surest method known - but I have to wait and wait, hoping I find the courage to hit Moppi on the head, very hard, while he's asleep, or somehow obtain a gun.. ..but I can't wait much longer, even if willing, because since last february when the mad, smoking, ignorant dctor and his dirty, foul-faced, foul-tempered nurses jabbed me and then antibiotic'd me (only Amoxi, but for months) all of me is falling apart - I have pains inside that I think are in various organs and.. oh, it's more than time I died and I deeply regret having waited so long. It has absolutelynot been worth it.

Have you seen what's happening on the west coast of N. America - the sea creatures all dying in agony from Fukushima and the melting Arctic? http://enenews.com/ We've created hell on earth, yet still we don't stop. I wish I'd never been born and people should understand that simply denying something doesn't change it at all.

Quand les gens te disent, "Ne pleure pas," c'est qu'ils ont peur de se noyer.

When people say, "Don't cry," it because they're afraid of drowning.

Cuando te dicen, "No llore," es que temen de ahogarse.

Oh yes, I forgot - they've also prescribed another antibiotic - doxycycline - and reassured me that, "It's not a quinolone and doesn't contain clavulanate." They don't even know that this is an infection and they haven't understood a single thing I've told them. In Spain, there's no reporting of adverse effects - they just write "allergic to ______ ." They probably think all those people born without arms or legs were allergic to thalidomide. (Obviously I'm not taking the doxi.)

In Spain there are seven large drug companies making and marketing generics and those are whaat they prescribe, so the money is all recycled and the package warnings are minimal. 

I'm treating the ulcers with sugar and honey. The bed, the floor and all my clothes are sticky, but the ulcers are healing. Nyer again to the medics. My horrible time in Spain has been a war - they try to destroy me, but so far they haven't quite succeeded. 

http://www.wlv.ac.uk/about-us/news-and-events/latest-news/2015/march-2015/-honour-for-sugar-treatment-researcher.php
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21647066

I'm emailing Mr. Murandu to thank him.

I've tried everything. Doctors worse than useless, so ignorant it's unbelievable, also uncaring. The fluoroquinolone damaged my veins so badly that when I had those puched injections of poison, by whatever mechanism, the damaged vañlves and capillaries just started to burst, I have patches of subcutaneous bleeding and these lesions, lumps like verouccas, splits, gaping holes, all sorts of horrible skin breakdown. The pain is incredible, even between the ulcers, and there are more and more, so that there isn't much space and there's no `part of my skin and the layers beneath that doesn't hurt so much that i can hardly think.
Am keeping going with great difficulty, as I still haven't got a valid will. I'll be so glad when I can finally use my exit kit and stop this horrible exxistence. I wouldn't even bother about a will, but there's still Moppi the cat; besides, I'd like to leave what little there is to a charity. Fingers Xd.