LYME LIKE ME
Curing Lyme Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia, Autism, Alzheimer's and Medical Fraud

The Book by Alan Foos (PDF version at end)
September 11, 2020
Donate: Fort Peck Community College 
Sick on antibiotics while writing this account...

​This last week late June has been like being born again. I'm no longer afraid. The pain in my face at night is no longer intolerable. A cruel weight I didn't even know is gone. I feel like I'm living on a brand new planet, even if the American statisticians give me only six more years to live. It must be a lot like getting out of prison after 35 years once the real killer is found. I can't really describe how wonderful it is; indeed, it's a lot like revisiting the trip to Heaven God blessed me with when I had the NDE in 1981 having died from this nameless curse in the midst of all my family and friends passing it off as a psychological or mental problem. What probably killed me then was that the toxins being released by the infection had started leaking into the brain. Oh, no doubt. If only you could have taken my place, you'd have known an agony beyond imagination.  

There was one unintentional but big lie in my initial account to the State of Montana if you've read that. I said I'd tried every antibiotic known to man so that there could not possibly be an infection. I also said I wouldn't exaggerate. So, I started thinking about the logical error in that statement, especially since I'd long known there was a bacteria at the root of it. In trying to kick the disease many years ago I'd concentrated on mycoplasmas, spirochetes, MRSA, Lyme disease, anything that involved  documented cases of intentional negligence by doctors. Decades of knee jerk refusals to examine my sinuses, even by ENT's who knew nothing about me, and in some cases outright falsified results spoke of a major disconnect with honesty and human compassion. I couldn't say that I ever expected such pervasive, deliberate fraud and lack of human compassion. I mean, how do you stick someone on a mental ward or in every case try to twist some poor sucker into believing he has a mental disorder when you deliberately avoid any kind of consultation or diagnostics? In my case this had life destroying consequences and unimaginable torture during a long road to death. That made seeking medical help in America extremely dangerous, then Obamacare came to force you to pay for what amounts to bogus treatment ending in death. If you want to live, pay attention.   

There could only be one answer to decades of run arounds and ridicule by doctors, that the medical profession was exploiting serious illness and painful death for profit. They all had a damned good idea what was wrong with me since the 70s, but mental illness and vague disorders of unknown cause pay better than good health. The brotherhood isn't invested in any kind of honest work nor is the government, a good reason for making themselves exempt from legal accountability. Butchers is far too kind a word. More like cannibals. Only in America, though. Doctors here in SE Asia are fine, they get right on the problem and you can't help but love them. If there was any Lyme disease in these parts, I'd have been on the high road to recovery fifteen years ago. 

Six or so years ago I knew the problem was Lyme disease, but by 2020 was about to give up because my condition had been declining for five years without being able to find an antibiotic that proved the underlying cause was a bacteria. This very week after more than fifty years searching, I finally caught the filthy little bastards dead to rights. I found an antibiotic that works. I'm hoping it will be a cure, but right now there's 100% certainty it isn't neurological damage from beatings in the 50s. Who really wants to face being a victim, an ignorant dupe? I dug up two antibiotics that had been missed years ago and BANG. Within a day, I knew I'd hit pay dirt. After fifty years of unspeakable agony, struggle, public disgrace, loss of careers, and total loss that no one should ever have to endure, the truth was suddenly in the palm of my hand. The cure was at hand, at least so I want to believe. Yes, perhaps the proof will vanish with it, but that's not important to me.  It's not my obligation to save you and your kids by informing the world that government and medical pigs are sentencing you to death instead of treating disease. Indeed, many people already know that and the rest may not listen, but I have solid insight into how millions are being exploited and can provide vitally important tips on how to survive and overcome. Read carefully and believe me, please. 

Now is a good time to revisit the period beginning with a complete breakdown in 1980 and ending with my NDE (near death experience) in 1981. This was no Chad Daybell scam, I really did die. I know that so well. Nobody heard me pleading for help, trying to explain what I was going through. They didn't want to know. I was coerced into mental health counseling, helpless to get real help for an impending death. Even though the first attempt at counseling was a good experience, it was not possible to convince anyone that I was truly in a horrible agony dying. The friendship I struck up with the counselor was just a way to make dying a little easier. I was forced to work while suffering vicious abuse and made a mockery every day.  I hung in there as long as possible, not knowing what else to do after being fired three times on false pretenses. I could not persuade a doctor to take any interest in my symptoms, examine my sinuses or consider a valid reason for the unholy agony I was experiencing. They ignored every worse, determined to convince me this was manic depression mood swings. So, I had to resign myself to dying. My children would have a handicapped mother and no father. I was powerless to delay death after just graduating with a master's in soils bought and paid for by risking another likely death in Vietnam infantry. Every evening I would collapse on the living room floor, accepting the verdict of my wife's pastor that the unavoidable wages of my sin were eternal death, and while lingering my two toddlers hopped back and forth across my carcass in the evening. Each day at work I managed to perform adequately being instilled with a strong work ethic, but my supervisor, Dennis "Smut" Smetana was doing his best to beat me down. The Mussellshell County District Conservationist next door, John Rouane also got his kicks out of setting up one prank after another. 

A year after a complete physical and mental breakdown in 1980, toxins continued to build up from extensive disease, especially entrenched in the facial and head areas. I was nearing the most critical point. I was dying, but nobody would acknowledge that or try to get real medical help. It was all about my many sins and the penalty to be paid. They all took for granted the work I did and had little concern about my fate. It was a private and shameful sentence of death. I eventually overcame the dread of Hell without being sure that existence could simply end. It was the last week or two as time was quickly running out that a powerful presence would come over me, something exquisitely rich, vibrant and warm, a penetrating melody of highly personal quality that hit all the senses at once and yet had no source in physical reality. I really felt it was God himself giving comfort, that I was connecting to an actual being who was pouring over me waves of love of a quality that transcended the finite bounds of physical reality. My near death experience would come only about a week later in mid May, 1981. I accepted death and Hell, then was astounded by what actually happened. It's a great story I think, but most people take me for a religious nut, so I'll skip it here. I have written accounts of it numerous times. I can honestly and with supreme confidence tell you things about God and Heaven that no one else has ever seen. You can take that to the bank.

As toxins continued to overwhelm and paralyze me, they began to enter the brain, that being the point that God's presence started shining through. I should have known perfectly well that I had some kind of bacterial infection, but there was no time or means of finding a cause. It was a desperate, moment by moment attempt to stay alive or try to exit with the least harm to others. I was in such a state of shock, just barely holding on, barely able to move, trying to make a normal day of it as long as possible. I wouldn't get any real medical help no matter how much I tried and was instead taking more than the usual heat from coworkers and family who had nothing invested in me. Something was deadly wrong, but it didn't matter what it was or that death would result. All that was important is that I somehow manage to survive the next few seconds without betraying my desperation lest the bastards drag me through the mud with renewed glee. So, it happened, I finally really did die, at least for a minute or more until God tossed me back. Now, what the NDE people say is true, it's an experience that's a million times more intense than any you've had on Earth. People always look askance and you know they're thinking, "the fool says he met God personally. Why didn't God heal him, then?" How many times do you think I've wondered about that? Can you imagine my combined sense of gratitude and wonder at being left so badly maimed back in the midst of this pack of filthy humans?  I can only tell you what I know. Seeing God and visiting the Heavenly realm sort of made up for all the hardship and disgrace, but still faced living with a horrific disease that had no name, a career in ruins, and medical providers determined to farm me out as a nut case. 

So, it wasn't long after the Holy Spirit brought me back, cradling in me in His arms, that my torment continued. God must have given me some kind of starter fuel, because I was in agony but past the point of death. I would gaze in the bathroom mirror a long time, amazed at how my face was shining and grin spread ear to ear. This euphoric state wore off when I soon realized the rest of the world was oblivious to my story of a great Heaven waiting just next door. I no longer felt obligated to put up with them all, knowing the one thing they wouldn't let me do was escape. It was baiting the mental illness mob, but I felt for the sake of my children as well as mine that it was right to move away from the seat of endless strife. I was far too sensitive to be around the kind of people I found myself surrounded by. To avoid being analyzed, I would make daily rounds throughout town and befriended many townspeople as I passed by. I was still reeling from a horrible illness, social conflicts, the loss of my career, and unsure what to do next.  

During that time my senses were super sharp while being extremely weak physically. The smell of Downy from every dryer down an alley was strong and I tuned into details that I dared not mention much because it just wasn't normal. My trauma vacillated to extremes as they do even now from night to day, but back then the agonies were far beyond what was bearable. I had no idea what the things were inside my head that radiated such intense pain. To those around me, it was confirmation of the medical bastard's pronouncement of madness, even though I knew full well I had no symptoms of bipolar disorder. It was late May of 1981 when areas deep in my face first presented a horrifying picture of what I thought (wrongly) were severed nerves. Now only in 2020 do I have a really accurate understanding of what was going on then and to a lesser degree ever since.

Until recently, as you know from my recent complaint to the State of Montana, I'd shifted my thoughts to damage done to me by severe beatings on Montana playgrounds and buses. Facial nerves do intersect the center of a person's soul. Clinically speaking, the maxillary nerves are a hub of incoming and outgoing impulses. It certainly appeared to me at times that this hub had been severed almost entirely on both sides by beatings to the face. In the 80s I believed the center of my being had been severed in two places which I could visually distinctly in 1981 and to lesser degrees since. I now realize this what I was sensing was badly diseased facial tissue and probably the ruptured remains of a cyst. At the fracture on either side near to the upper lip, intense pain emanated, not just physical pain, but an agony of spirit. Now, the fragment dangling past the break on the right after my near death experience was hanging straight down, but the one on the left seemed to only be partially broken. By gently massaging the left area with the muscles in my face, it actually responded and after some time seemed to be restored. This gave me hope that I might be entirely healed of my agony. I tried it on the right, but the broken piece just flopped around until it finally fell free. When that happened, my doom seemed to be sealed. Indeed, though not an actual nerve, it was an area inside my face that was irretrievably damaged by Lyme bacteria. Incomprehensible trauma surged in all directions, rendering me extremely disoriented and confused and embarrassed to show my face in public. Now 39 years later, nothing has changed except that the pain is less intense. I continue to go through cycles where these damaged "nerves" can be felt in a distinct way through the diseased, thickened tissues surrounding them, but the nerves are simply concentrated toxins and hardened cyst. At the same time, there is pronounced absence of feeling in areas of my feet, legs and face. The extent to which I can tune in to the damaged "nerves," I can feel corresponding sensations mirrored in my feet. The feelings of pain, numbness and spastic muscles on the left are fairly negligible to those on the right as they have always been. 

Understand that when first starting this account I had not yet realized that what I thought were "nerves" back in 1981 were actually the structure of a highly toxic, widespread cyst formed by a bacterial pathogen that cannot be anything other than Lyme disease. I had suspected this often in the past and many times attempted to get a biopsy but was generally denied even the most basic acknowledgement let alone any attempt diagnostics (unnecessary). I'd settled on the culprit being Lyme disease by 2014 by virtue of persistent negligence of American doctors. Encouraged by a strong reaction to star anise extracts at the time, I took as many as five different brands of antibiotic at once for months, risking serious health problems. I was counting on either the star anise or some combination of antibiotics beating the infection, but there was no response to any pharmaceutical until 2020. There has been more change in the last five days of this one than in the last forty years since the medical brotherhood of bastards locked me up for a week, flatly ignoring  any description of symptoms and pleas for sinus examination. The recent gains have been helped by another fortuitous discovery. I happened to think about my master's degree in soils and the wonderful electrical properties of a clay mineral called bentonite, named after Fort Benton, Montana, which was named in 1850 after Senator Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri.  Now, it happened to be that I was working in Fort Benton for the Soil Conservation Service just out of grad school when I had the severe breakdown from Lyme. Many years of extreme overwork and malnutrition had weakened my immune system, allowing the infection to proliferate and push me into a sudden, complete mental and physical breakdown that nearly left me dead. This was likely due to a rupture of the cyst. It took another eighteen years to finally get an MRI of the sinuses. The infection is not confined to the sinuses, either, but extends deep into facial tissues, legs and feet.  

During the star anise treatment, the disease structure softened considerably and a sour discharge began leaking from the lips. This was certainly as much a result of constant massaging by continually contorting facial muscles for decades. A lot of the feeling in my face had disappeared and smiling was difficult. About fifteen years ago it finally felt as if my jaws were made of hard rubber which continued to became more pliable. These facial contortions became an involuntary exercise until the mass became more pliable and drawn to the surface. More soluble toxin poured out of the lips. I was able to break down or move a lot of cyst mass from the sinuses into the lip area where I could work on it more easily. This material is still deeply bound to flesh, but can be stretched and pulled. A fraction of it always exists at the skin barrier but cannot be pulled farther, the result being that the area encompassing the lips has become hardened with cyst. The toxin causes muscles to contract as well as fat to congeal. A thick layer of goo often accumulates around the gums by early morning. It struck me years ago that the powerful negative charge of bentonite plates could well be able to create an absorbent bridge and hasten the movement of foreign material out of the face. I spent two years nearly day and night slaving in a soils lab in the 70s and learned well the scientific properties of bentonite. 

In 2005 I bought a few pounds of bentonite to absorb body toxins, but it turned out to be volcanic ash. Then about 2013 out of desperation I bought some greasy clay from Kamthiang Market in Chiang Mai. I wanted to put it near the gums to absorb the toxins which were giving me nightmarish nausea near the gums and roof of the mouth. It turned out to be too full of grit and other unknowns to be useful. So, it was about a year ago that I found quality bentonite on sale here in Chiang Mai. At first the idea was to swallow enough to cleanse the intestines, but only when approaching my 72nd birthday when I started the new antibiotic did I stop to think, hey, put this in your lips and just give it a try. The first thing I noticed as the bentonite spread into my tongue is that the sense of taste became sharper. It also really helped clear out the gooey shit accumulating in my mouth during the night. I'd only thought of that after reaching the limit on what I was tolerating. I'd been sending emails to people expressing the fear that I couldn't live much longer. 

I'd unintentionally told a hyperbolic fib in my complaint to Montana (first part of this book) about trying every antibiotic known, but on a deeper level knew there was some kind of microbe chewing on me, so started thinking about that. I had years earlier targeted classes of bacteria that the medical industry is known for lying about. These included spirochetes and mycoplasmas but I didn't fixed on Lyme until the star anise extract suddenly started to release toxins. Dang, there had to be an infection. What if the infection started in the late fifties during the two to three years my sinuses bled continually from dozens of beatings to the face that should have left me dead and nearly did? The notion of an opportunistic infection occupied my thoughts up until I tried the new antibiotic this year. While Lyme was the only possible explanation for decades of lies from doctors, it wasn't until I the antibiotic loosened up the cyst that I was able to match it to the wens on the scalp that appeared in 1964. Then I knew when and where the disease started. 

So, there the mystery finally was over. If the new antibiotic works and with a little help from bentonite for absorbing bacterial waste, then after more than fifty years of suffering, devastating loss of careers and homes and exploitation by SAMFs, I might have the knockout punch. This also presented a better explanation than nerve damage back in Roundup, Montana in 1981 during the time I hovered between life and death. The agony was so intense that it would bring vivid images in my head, neck and sinus regions. What I saw for a time was a young child. It was the real me, the one at the center of this putrid Hell. I was in this tiny cave, the walls covered by fecal material and the air drenched in stench. I was deathly ill and trying desperately to scrape away the filth. How true the image was. There was no physical child in there of course. That was the child part of myself, desperately trapped inside by this vile rot that had to be repressed for me to function in the world. I also thought I saw a broken segment of maxillary nerve from beatings to my face, but that turns out to have been the anchoring structure of the cyst itself. Though I've gradually improved a great deal since then, the bacteria has still been chewing on me for another 39 years and it's been no joy, I tell you. 

It's been six weeks since starting the new antibiotic. The cyst has softened a lot and it's more clear where it's made of and how extensive it is. The most immediate effect has been relief from burning sensations that caused many sleepless nights and also headaches, vertigo, heart palpitations, and even occasional fainting spells, though other symptoms from Herxing reactions are no pleasure. It really has been a Fantastic Voyage very much like the movie. I was nearing the eighth grade when I wrote a speech for my summer advanced science class. I beat all the competition with an exciting story about shrinking to a tiny size for a tour through the circulatory system of a frog. Now, I didn't say I dreamt this up on my own but didn't say I didn't, either. It came from a little book hidden away in the dusty upstairs of the archives at Montana State University Library where I often spent hours browsing and reading biology books. It was a real find, a charming story that I thought should not have been long forgotten. I became a local celebrity by using the idea. Now, because I read the original book and you didn't, I say that the Fantastic Voyage movie was plagiarized from that book. That may be too strong a word, but I do wish the producers would have given credit to this book. It really deserved that much.  

It seems as if different people experience much different symptoms from Lyme, and I myself have experienced much different symptoms night to day, month to month and year to year. There are cyclic bouts of pain and discomfort that generate vivid mental pictures. These kinds of symptoms I dare not share with doctors as they will seize on them as delusions caused by mental disorders. Boy, they'll stretch a mile to make you look crazy, the bastards! I'm not waxing metaphysical when saying that when a hammer smashes your toe, you know, you get the picture.  "Seeing" an image of that hammer is a normal response. In the case of Lyme, the pain comes from inside, but it can be as severe as any physical torture from an outside source. It can be more vicious and intense because a deadly poison is causing every neuron in your body to discharge. As symptoms morph over time, you sometimes go down many levels deep into body tissues where your consciousness comes into intimate contact with the site of purest horror, where the germ lives and the damage is most unbearable. In my case this is the center of the cyst in the sinus where the disease found the most favorable place to start a new family. That happens for only limited periods, as if body defenses lead me to concentrate on areas where I could possible wage war against the enemy. The infection gets older the deeper one descends where there lurks unspeakable agonies. Then the experience is over and new symptoms take over. 

This is why when the symptoms first started to flare in 1968 in the Army, I was filled with dread. If some tumor or whatever was lurking down deep were ever exposed, then I felt certain death would be imminent. The unknown terror within frightened me terribly and caused me to act strangely. And years later, indeed, I died in 1981, experiencing a genuine and profound near death experience. People do die from sinus cysts, they do die from Lyme disease. Passing me off as a crazy person was an act of murder by medical providers and their government guardians, no much less so than gassing Jews at Auschwitz. The American government and medical industry is just the same but better at fooling you into thinking your welfare is their concern.  Sorry, that is not conspiracy theory. This is what I've had to confront many, many times for decades, even where the suffering of my children was consistently ignored. WHY? That's my mission. My case is entirely settled even as my life is almost over, but I've yet to fully explain what's happened to my children. No explanation was ever offered for the strange symptoms they had at birth that smacked of congenital Lyme. I demand non rigged Lyme tests for all three children to determine whether they also are victims of deliberate negligence and attempted murder for profit. 

Constant meditation on some level has been necessary for better understanding the disease. Regions where tissues are badly damaged by decades of bacterial invasion must be closely explored and attempts made to disrupt the infection. For many decades I thought the pain in my legs and feet were just electrical short circuits from mangled maxillary nerves in my face, but now it's clear that the entire body has been permeated with this disgusting parasite and its toxic discharge. I've been squeezing and contortion muscles in my face for over 25 years trying to soften the cyst. I've often wondered if that was likely to make things worse, but it was a better idea than doing nothing. Now it's very clear that this has helped to remove a significant amount of toxin and help prevent another buildup to mental and physical breakdown. Vigorous physical exercise combined with the right supplements is also vitally important. It's also now clear that sensations in all areas of the body coincide because the cyst is a single unit spreading all the way from head to toe. The cyst is present in the muscles surrounding the temples and everywhere else and at times causes those muscles to undergo spasms. This autonomous colony of spirochetes has been spewing waste in my body for 56 years. These images are not delusions symptomatic of manic depression or schizophrenia as the medical profession unanimously wishes to convince me, but they're symptoms of severe bacteria infection. That is Lyme disease and only Lyme disease. They absolutely must have known that the right antibiotic therapy would have gone a long way to restoring me. Is that why America has three times the number of mental patients as do "third" world countries as Robert Whitaker points out? Of course it is. The days of lobotomies and straight jackets may be over, but modern tools are sneakier. They slowly torture, murder and rob patients while all the world is convinced they are being helped by science. Kiss my butt, you bastards. 

The antibiotic with the assistance of Mr. Bentonite has accelerated the softening of the hardened mass in the sinuses. Different viscosities separate stubbornly from a deeply rooted, hardened, rubbery mass. Extremely sticky, gummy stuff would build up along the gums at night for the last few years. I would strain continually to pull it the rest of the way out with little success. This gummy stuff gradually got thinner, but would still stubbornly snap back to adhere to its interstitial origins. The bentonite actually does pull the stuff out.  

Thinking that the beatings ages seven to ten were to blame is forgivable. The cyst matches precisely those places in 1956 where my face was crushed by impact with frozen ground that destroyed my nose and lips. It was severe negligence not to put me in the hospital, but my parents didn't have health insurance then because I'd been adopted. No doubt that's why adoption papers were drawn up a few months later. That the nerves could have been mangled by more than one such event was too easy to conclude as was the possibility that an opportunistic infection took root. Now, thanks to a better understanding of the wens, the infection began from two tick bites that spread throughout the head and face, formed an anchor in the sinuses, and then plunged more tentacles until it filled the body. 

Decades ago, it was impossible to talk about these things. I'd be easily interpreted as delusional, especially after the MF's had instilled such notions in the community. I knew it was wrong, but I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut. My reputation for being brilliant was only the result of having to achieve academic excellence as a way of deferring death from more playground beatings. Smart guys are looked up to in the community, but even worse was the prospect of getting put back two grades that was promoted in Drummond. That would have meant Danny Culver getting the pleasure of bashing my nose bloody every day after school two more years. Others would get their turns as well and I didn't see any hope of surviving that. So I buckled down hard and made myself into a smart guy. Other kids had fun and family time while I shivered in a cold railroad house studying books.   

I was never a natural genius, but did have a heightened perception before the routine bashing of my face. When I was six, I passed a garbage can and noticed it was offset an inch from its former impression in the grass. Since this wasn't garbage truck day, I reasoned that something was hidden under it. I don't remember how much was under the can, but a large sum for a kid in 1954. I'm guessing maybe sixty bucks. It turned out later that the money had been stolen from a nearby hairdresser. Fool that I was, I showed it to my mom who promptly confiscated it and spent it on cigarettes and beer. The disease also produces a sort of tunnel vision, but wreaks havoc with concentration, causing far more mental impairment than any practical advantage. Of course, the doctors are looking hard for such symptoms that fit well into any mental disorder of the hundreds listed in their handbooks. Destroying your body with phony diagnostics is how American medical care works:  relieving you of your wallet while destroying your ability to think or object.

Maybe the disease raged in the sinuses because of residual damage from the hits I took in Montana schools from ages seven to ten. I thought the big kid approaching me in Three Forks was a friend, an older high school kid, not realizing yet that the older a person was the more likely he was to kill you. He had approached me a week or two earlier and asked me questions in a very friendly manner. If I'd known his dad was the principal I'd have run, but I didn't know who he was. So, as he picked me up off the ground I thought he was just horsing around. I can't say exactly how many Newtons of centrifugal acceleration were used to slam my face into frozen ground packed by cleats, but it took everything I had to survive the next month. I used a straw slid delicately through swollen lips to sip grape juice for the first month. If you were to post a photo of my face now on social media, police and hospital specialists would be here in minutes. This was what could happen to an eight year old in Montana in 1956 and I'm certain could still happen. A principal could convince his own son to murder a young child he never knew without a word ever being exchanged. Every day he was there standing at the top of the stairs glaring, waiting for me alone to come through the door so he could pounce if my cap was still on.  Now my face was crushed into a bloody pulp, particularly the lips which had swollen to mock me, my whole face a distorted mess of grotesque black and blue. This is what school principals did in Montana. 

So, it so very much appears, before realizing the significance of the two wens, taking everything into account, that the bacterial infection likely took root about that time. But there are no ticks in winter so it must have come on board the summer of 1958 or 1959 in Bearmouth. Of course, since I'm now reworking the first draft, it will come to me soon that the guilty tick bites occurred in Toston in 1964. Flash forward two years from grade two, I'm back in Drummond again. Previously, at age seven, I'd been beaten by as many as five classmates at once and by one in particular nearly every following day. With my brain still damaged from the attack in Three Forks, the Drummond kids now looked like animals in a parallel dimension. It was genuine psychosis. I knew once I was recognized, I'd be killed. I gradually recovered a simulated sanity but lived every day with unspeakable fear that it would be my last. And they did go after me, not on the school grounds often, but on the bus I was tormented every second of two long trips morning and night. There wasn't room for a fist fight, but I was slapped and bullied continually. No one paid any attention except for Durfee, who watched through the visor mirror with a blank face. Several high school students I didn't know sat quietly in the back, so one day I thought to get away by sitting near these more mature students. I chose a window seat in front of a big farm kid I found out later was Randy Weaver, NO, not the FBI's Ruby Ridge Randy I've been accused of claiming was the attacker. You don't see Randy's name on the Internet associated with the spreading Weaver Ranch, but it would have been his. I heard he turned into an alcoholic and pissed his share of the ranch away https://bit.ly/2PEXrnp.  All the folks I knew who were drinkers forty years ago are long dead, so that's probably where Randy is now. 
Anyway, Mr. Weaver perceived my intent to escape the three pairs of brothers and decided to thwart the plan. He slammed me on the head with a load of books (or one large book like a Social Studies) hard enough to knock me out. This was more than rough housing. It was meant to do serious harm.  I later sometimes wondered if the wens hadn't come about as a result of that. When I came to, I turned and glared at him, not thinking such empty defiance could end my life. Some time later, Mr. Weaver tapped me on the shoulder. I turned instinctively, at which point my face met a book swung like a bat with as much force as could be applied by large high school farm kid. The force knocked me out of my window seat into the aisle. I don't remember how much later we arrived at my stop in Bearmouth, but I was unconscious, face down in a pool of blood. All my books were soaked in blood which cemented the pages together. The kids were all stone silent and Durfee was quietly holding open the bus doors, not knowing if I was dead or alive. I don't know how I got off or remember what happened then, but am still amazed that I survived. This added to what the principal's kid did to me two years earlier and it seemed I'd bleed the rest of my life after that. For two to three years my nose almost never quit bleeding. I plugged it with tissue so nobody could see and held my throat tight until blood filled the sinuses and throat with clots. That could last a few hours, but several times a day I'd have to suck massive clots out of my sinuses and swallow them. All that bleeding could have contributed to a Lyme infection even years later. The cyst isn't a sinus artifact, but a single solid mass. Only a small part is visible on hundreds of the 1998 MRI images. The center of the infection feels like a hard knot just to the right and bottom of nose and lips. It wasn't very palpable until five years ago, but the pain and headaches had grown worse all that time. The day I started this new antibiotic was the first I'd slept in a long time. 

The trauma centered there seemed like it was what triggered the complete mental and physical breakdown in 1980, the sudden surge of toxin being near fatal and terribly crippling. That may not be because there were severe tremors in my temples for weeks before that combined with intense lucid dreams, breaks in consciousness, frightening heart palpitations, crippling back pain, eye spasms that temporarily blinded me, and the need to shut out the world with headphones after work. I didn't see it coming until mid sentence talking to the rest of the crew. I suddenly felt as we were separated by a thousand miles. I couldn't understand or remember what we were talking about. I must have appeared to be in a trance and don't remember how I got home. I woke up the next day okay and drove to Great Falls to buy stuff. But when I got to Great Falls, I couldn't find my way to the next destination and by nine or ten at night was still trying to find the way home. With great difficulty I found home but was too disoriented to take off my clothes. By midnight my legs were being shattered by rapid blows from bats or hammers. This continued until morning light, when in desperation I began running wildly up and down streets. My heart was beating too fast to feel anything and I was in such continual desperate agitation that my strength was fading away to exhaustion but without relief. Bipolar disorder? So I was told.   

I should not have been allowed to return to work, but given advanced diagnostics and intensive antibiotic treatment. Weird how I never saw a doctor or signed a paper permitting myself to be locked on a mental ward. It stunk then and still stinks big time. I was hoping to explain my symptoms to someone and get some tests, but instead spent a week trading stories with crazy people, one of whom I saw electro shocked as punishment for complaining about his family. When a doctor did finally spare me a few minutes, he ignored my attempt to draw attention to my sinuses and jumped right in with this bipolar (then it was manic-depressive) brainwash, explaining how great people like Abraham Lincoln had it and all sorts of other gee whiz kid how lucky you are to be a mental patient. Just look at the food and those nurses. He did ask if I'd experienced any vomiting during this episode of extraordinary aggravation. That really pegs it, doesn't it? The filthy animals always knew that I was suffering from an infection, certainly not a mental disorder. Hitler lives. This is how the masses are slowly skinned alive. I didn't know what the Hell was wrong, but never gave voice to or showed any symptoms of bipolar disorder or any other mental disorder. Shit, Einstein, if you're having a heart attack you won't be particularly on top of your game. Bastards! A team of cheap whores filling their pockets with government medical insurance and planning for recurring commissions on psychoactives. God, what a racket! These drugs invariably create the symptoms of mental disorders and compound the disabling effects of real health issues. Victims are entirely trapped, incapable of fighting back or achieving recovery. It isn't conspiracy theory. All the doctors I ever met play psychiatrist. American medicine is a vicious cheat that renders victims powerless to fight back. 

The grotesque structure of the cyst seen in the 1998 MRI images was no less in 1980 because in the intervening eighteen years I was doing a great deal better. The community depended on me for doing important things that no one else could and they paid me okay. As long as I took vitamin B supplements and exercised nobody could think I wasn't in just fine shape. I was even much better than in 1968 in Dugway, a sign that the army vaccinations had interacted badly with the disease. Sometimes I still felt that deep, burning ember deep in my head which smelled death. 

Now some twenty five years later, the full extent of the disease is more easily felt as one contiguous structure, a cyst or tumor spreading from the face to everywhere, but the burning sensation is gone. I believe the bacteria have been dying, but too slowly. The farther you get away from the source of the original infection, the less dense the substance is, except in the feet where there's a lot of it. It is extremely elastic when thin and adheres fast to the jaw. It can't be pulled out, just like the wens the Thai doctor yanked on for over two hours, a couple of times remarking on the red ring formed around the wens. And just why did a bull's eye pattern of a red circle form around the wens at that time? Or was he saying that the red ring was there to begin with? I don't know, but that's how Lyme tick bites look a day or two after infection. And that's when it hit me. Those ARE the tick bites. Of course. The same stretchy, fatty material on the outside as in the sinuses and feet with a loose, network of deep red filaments as we'd seen in the same wens in 2008. Of course, I can't see the material inside the fat except in the wens, but I feel something inside super hard and giving off toxins that be nothing other than bacteria. So don't tell me that the red filaments in the wens are not Lyme bacteria. That's what I call a real bull's eye. There's no doubting it now. 

And on top of that we know that only Lyme disease can explain why the entire rank and file of the most prestigious profession has betrayed the American people with such extreme cruelty. The CDC rigged the test after the infamous release of a bogus vaccine that did severe damage to thousands who trusted their doctors. Why not just fraudulently funnel the fools unto mental disorders where the big money comes easy as patients wither away? No doubt that is what accounts for nearly two thirds of mental illness diagnoses that do never existed in third world countries. This is how the medical brotherhood and government are sentencing you or someone you know to a most agonizing death while stripping you financially. I wouldn't have believed this myself but this is what I was slapped in the face with for over fifty years. My imagination? Well then why is every doctor I've ever met in Thailand a well trained, delightfully personable, quality man or woman who helps people without psychoactive drugs?  

Ok, I don't want to tell you my life story, only give you an idea of the "Madness In America" that I went through with and without Lyme disease. Of many things one can do in Thailand and can't do in the land of the free, is go out and buy antibiotics at a third the price without having to first shell out BIG bucks to coax prescriptions out of a doctor who will limit or deny them on a whim. If you do see a Thai doctor you have a complaint and you'll see someone who actually tries to help rather than bleed you to death. I'd have never stood a chance of being properly diagnosed or treated in Montana. Even here, it took fifteen years and I had to do it myself, but it got done. So far, I've only done a nine day cycle of four grams a day, starting 19th June. Now the 29th... I was going for ten days, but the Herxheimer effect from bacterial die off knocked me on my butt. I wasn't expecting it that soon. Waves of nausea, extreme vertigo, and panic rocked me out of the boat. I didn't vomit, but spent several sessions over the toilet all night. I knew what was going on. To me, it was important to stop the antibiotic immediately because serious damage to your body is possible if there's a bad reaction to the antibiotic. (Later it will turn out that one pill will cause me to barf all night.)

I was pretty sick for the next two days, but a significant amount of infection is dead. Hopefully, some die off will continue for some time while taking time off from the pills. This bug is one vicious monster, even intelligent. How nice to surround yourself with your own compacted feces so that antibiotics cannot reach deeply enough to kill you through the yummy fat you've sucked out of your host. But not so nice for your host (me) who has had to live with your filth for over fifty years. Also nifty for the doctors laughing up their sleeves while stuffing those commissions in their pockets while watching you slowly suffer and die. You better shake yourself out of your stupor and ask yourself what's really wrong with you.  

Do you know me? Against impossible odds, I made some fine achievements. You should appreciate me as a person. You can tell I'm not talking conspiracy theory or delusional drivel. Be reassured that I'm of sound mind and good judgement with very strong academic credentials that require exceptionally good rational thought. So why does every American doctor think I'm so stupid? True, to them I'm nothing out of the ordinary, which can only mean there are millions of dupes like me who are being farmed by the medical and government establishment. It is without doubt that what I'm telling you could save your own ass now or in the future, or if not your own ass, the ass of someone you know and care about. Yeah, I want you to know what the bastards are really like, what they're capable of, so you can be forewarned and dodge the bullet.  At a minimum, there are five million undiagnosed cases of chronic Lyme as we speak. I believe it's twice that. And the scope of this problem doesn't stop there. Be sure there is a litany of mental disorders, autism, chronic fatigue syndrome, Alzheimer's and many others that have similar causes... Don't let the bastards get you down!

My deep distrust of doctors began at age six when receiving frequent allergy shots when I had experience no allergies. My mother was obviously obsessed with them. When they removed my tonsils at age eleven, a group of five or more gathered round. One nurse with a fixed grin approached stealthily holding out a face mask drenched with ether. My nerves tightened. She told me this absurd story about how I'd see a white horse which made me more anxious. I fought like Hell and would've killed them all but was easily overpowered. I saw no horse but did see a huge cross that began to spin around center faster and faster until I went under.  Two years later I found myself once  again at St. Patrick's in Missoula. I'd twisted my arm and could no longer straighten it. It was quite numb and immovable. I realized years later that the two arm bones had twisted out of joint. It's an easy job to put your foot on someone's chest and pull the arm out until the dislocated bones snap back. The idiot gave no thought to that, determined to straighten it out with brute force. Me being about 65 pounds and he six four and about 230, well... He reefed and reefed... The pain overwhelmed me and I was overcome with nausea and dripping with cold sweat until, SNAP! There's no way to describe how horrible that was. What hurt nearly as much was seeing him and my mother laugh about it afterwards. The two of them derived obvious pleasure from the incident. 

The Drummond beatings in 1954-1955 also followed intense encounters with my mother and school administrators. I thought she was acting for my benefit, but later suspected that wasn't the case at all because the result was quite the opposite. I wasn't aware of her interacting with the principal in Three Forks where I was nearly killed the following year, but nobody could believe it possible that an elementary principal would put his high school son up to the brutal killing of a clueless eight year old kid. Nevertheless, it did happen. There had to be a reason. By early adolescence the hatred coming from my mother was no longer a question, so I've no other theory. A psychiatrist that treated her claimed her behavior stemmed from sexual attraction. (!?) Being the constant target of such bullying drives a lot of children to suicide. I did consider that when sufficiently demoralized at times, but determined to never give up. Someday I'd find a way out. I studied hard to win favor with teachers and began plotting an escape from home, but by seventeen still looked about fourteen and had no idea where to go or find support.  

Having a knack for observation was both blessing and curse. In college I drew scorn for raising too many questions. The high school physics teacher hated me so much he forced me to drop. The math theorem appended to this account shows an exceptional talent for pattern recognition and rational inference and is included to bolster confidence in my assertions here even though only professional mathematicians can understand it.  It was a good skill to have as a soil scientist and added much value to my field work prior to my 1980 breakdown caused by Lyme. However, the argument over whether or not I should receive credit was lost the minute the medical brotherhood of bastards in Great Falls bilked my insurance, refused an examination and instead screwed with a mental disorder. The next year, after three firings and struggling to keep my SCS job in Roundup I was the target of ongoing harassment due to questions about mental competence while at the same time helpless to fight an imminent death. The USDA District Conservationist John Rouane hooked me up with a fellah named Dodee to do a field survey one day. Dodee refused to speak to me and then bolted from the pickup when we stopped about a mile from the site. When we got there, I refused to dig at the designated spot because instructions given at a recent convention in Bozeman were that all samples were to be taken fifty feet from a soil boundary. The following day there was a meeting of about ten of them blasting me for mental incompetence. I asked whether anyone had paid attention at the recent meeting or were still pre-occupied with the strange pussy enjoyed by many during such conventions. 

The Roundup Hotel best illustrated these points at the time. I knew the harassment was mostly the result of being viciously defamed by Cottet in Chinook to cover his dishonesty. My new supervisor in Roundup was Dennis Smetana. To cement his solidarity with the state higher uppers, he used the nickname Smut sewn to his jacket. Smut started in on me after spending several months building his ranch house on taxpayer time. Across the street from our USDA office was the old Roundup Hotel. I noticed an unusual pattern in the hotel which was bringing me a lot of ridicule. It had two half coats of different colored paint to make one dappled coat, something you rarely see. You might think the paint had been hastily applied at night. The hotel rooms were closed and all that remained for business was a small restaurant and bar. There was a big sign hanging out that said, Bar-Cafe, then another identical to that but about half the size. Everything was redundant. Ok, old sign, new sign, so what, but it just didn't stop. One of the larger of two windows on the abandoned side was broken, the other not. I could plainly see a twisted intelligence behind this, a statement to the world, perhaps even an SOS. I could visualize a little dwarf imposing his brand on the hotel. The evidence was everywhere you looked. There was an American flag in a room window along with some newspaper clippings. The hotel was abandoned, but the original or owner might still stowing away in one of the rooms. That was my theory, anyway. 

Of course, it was a mistake to muse about this in the presence of coworkers. They'd be using it as one more way to make a fool out of me. The District Conservationist, John Rouane, master of pranks, had the idea of us going over to the cafe to have lunch, thinking he'd be entertained with delusions he could pass on up to the state office. Holy Cow. On one wall there was an expensive pendulum clock with a perfectly square box. Opposite it, on the other wall, was an identical clock but with the box tilted 45 degrees so that the corners were top and bottom. I just had to wonder how and why someone would work so hard to work this pattern into the hotel. Some weeks later I'd had the near death experience and walked off the job. I was still in amazement from meeting God face to face. Now it happened that one night late about 2AM I was walking my Dalmatian. I walked past the side facing the USDA offices then around the corner past the signs. I was just rounding the other corner of the hotel when I spied a leprechaun like fellow in the dark about forty feet down the alley. He was a short, stout man of about fifty dressed in a shirt hand woven from coarse rope. He started to run, then paused and came back to me. He proceeded to talk my ear off. He said I was the first person he'd talked to in seven years. I was thinking, okay, who brings you your food? Of course, the restaurant employees, but maybe not, maybe he raided the fridge at night. He was certainly the guy responsible for the quirky hotel decor and maintenance. At the time he was oiling the shingles from a large bucket of oil and extended brush that may have been pilfered elsewhere. His brother had died of a nervous breakdown he said, also that the hotel was once a brothel run by his mother and visited regularly by Senator Mike Mansfield. That much was credible, then he launched into a wild tale of an Irish arms conspiracy that was behind the death of JFK. He emphasized how serious it was by thumping me pretty hard on the chest. He wanted me to come to his room in the hotel so he could show me a suitcase full of newspaper clippings that proved the conspiracy. I passed. 

This knack for observation was an advantage in academics, but attracted a lot of negative attention in government work. The statistical theorem that originated in my graduate statistics class at Montana State University in 1978 became my trademark example. Few people are proficient in algebra enough to follow the math, but it's still proof of my own power of logical insight. It's also a testament to devoted study and work ethic, so no wonder it would be mocked by government. If you love math and are into statistical design, you will enjoy following the derivation. Even though impaired from Lyme disease for over fifty years, you can know from the theorem that this account is an important message that can save countless lives, and so being proof of sound mind and exceptional insight, it is appended to this account as my signature achievement. You may take confidence in my judgements about the predatory American health system and save your ass accordingly. 

You are told that Covid-19 can be spotted on a package of imported broccoli, but can you believe that there's no known cause of autism or debilitating effects of vaccines despite first hand observations by thousands of parents who have witnessed severe damage to their children? No, that you can't believe. The cause of autism and the true effects of vaccines are fully known on some level but not admitted publicly. While I've proved beyond doubt that I contracted Lyme disease in a state where the experts insist it not possible, I'm justifiably concerned about the cause of severe physical and mental impairment seen in all three of my children that medical authorities have refused to look at and blocked my own legal responsibility to question. Is it possible that their mother also contracted Lyme disease as a young child in Montana and that their problems stem from congenital Lyme? One thing we know for certain is that the MMR vaccine did severe damage to my daughter and son, but our concerns have been ignored. Is it possible that congenital Lyme disease as a root cause of autism and that Lyme disease presents a marked susceptibility to vaccine damage? Certainly my own Lyme disease became severe only after a great many unannounced vaccinations in the army. Is it right that medical personnel unfamiliar to my case committed felonies by engaging in conversations with employers who used the information to have me fired? Is it right that government watchdog agencies violated the very laws they are entrusted to enforce by blocking me from examining the records of my children. The government and medical authorities are a class of criminals, not heroes. 

Why did I conclude with such certainty many years ago that I had Lyme disease? It was hard to exactly fit symptoms because they are so variable, but such ubiquitous, entrenched negligence and unbridled fraud imposed on myself must have raised flags that couldn't entirely be hidden by the government owned mainstream press or Google. So... 

What I dug up from a handful of victim and industry witnesses is that Lyme was a very ugly disease that was spreading like fire decades ago, a fact the CDC and government hid by keeping the testing procedure jiggered. This was a fact confirmed beyond question by qualified whistle blowers. Indeed, the test was first rigged when the CDC was developing a vaccine for Lyme. Be aware that the CDC is not the watchdog agency you've been led to believe. It is a for profit corporation listed by Dunn and Bradstreet. The female CEO and major stockholder at that time teamed up with the head honcho of Mayo Clinic and Glaxo-Smith-Klein, a huge pharmacy company, and also Yale University to develop this vaccine from trials held in Europe. These were the biggest names in western medicine. The finer details I no longer remember or care to revisit, but this is the bottom line. They were all caught red handed so don't doubt it. These four institutional giants empowered with public trust
created a vaccine for Lyme disease by knowingly changing the test so that only 10% of those having Lyme tested positive after the test. The knew the vaccine had no effect on Lyme whatsoever, but declared victory, advertising their vaccine was 90% effective. They were all caught red-handed when thousands of victims were seriously damaged by the vaccine. Cripples descended on Congress and there was no denying what had taken place. Exposure in the media was quashed because the legal liability and loss of prestige to American health care and the university system would have resulted in world wide mockery and irreversible damage to both the American medical system and the government backing it. The country simply couldn't afford to cover damage done or allow the scandal to be settled in the courts. Victims were successfully ignored and the media muzzled. 

Since the test was never properly fixed, the publicized estimates of 30,000 Lyme victims could by assumed to be more like 300,000. From that you can conclude with confidence that there has been a cumulative bare minimum of five million chronic Lyme sufferers and probably other infectious disease being swept under the rug. Just where are those people now? Use your own head, it's a no brainer that many "diseases" claimed to have unknown causes are Lyme in disguise. I can't say with certainty that autism and other childhood disorders are caused by congenital Lyme, but after noting serious impairments in my own children at birth. This was followed by devastating damage to their health directly following MMR vaccinations. Oddly enough, vaccination records can be arranged in a statistical plot such as used in my master's thesis that scientifically proves vaccines caused those damages. There is good reason to believe that just like happened to me in the army, it was Lyme disease that set them up for such damages. Does it seem a bit odd that the medical providers entirely ignored my questions about these incidents to our children and refused to perform tests for infectious diseases or allow examination of their records? No, it isn't odd at all. The bastards are only good at one thing, dodging any accountability whatsoever. Well, my children are destroyed now, so who the Hell should care? Certainly none of the medical providers or government agencies sworn to do so the last forty years or more. 

Interesting how the Covid-19 bug was found within weeks of the first case. The pandemic now presents an ideal opportunity for vaccinations to be imposed on a panicky and vulnerable population. Many epidemics came upon Americans decades ago, not only Lyme disease and autism, but no reliable causes or information have ever come about.  Government policies used to successfully deny vaccine damage to children are no conspiracy theory, but fact. Yet you've likely seen nothing in the media about that. You and your children are in grave danger. I saw the MMR totally destroy my child four times in succession and another appears to have been ruined by one of the same unscheduled MMR shots. Had I ever been warned about the debate over autism and vaccinations, I'd have been able to prevent much of that, but it was too late. Don't let that happen to you. My daughter was perfectly normal in every way at age fourteen, then abruptly turned into a quivering, mute. She had to drop out of school with severe headaches and ended up spending much of the last 25 years living on the street. She's still a pathetic mess. It was only a few days ago that she recalled having received an unscheduled MMR at the high school courtesy some kind of donation through Bill Gates just days before what appeared to be a complete physical and mental collapse. That must have been the same program where my son got his unannounced MMR at age eight. Within days he went completely mute again and was pooping his pants. I may have also developed serious symptoms on the heels of the army shots, but confused that with grief over the sudden death of my dad. We walked into an ambush in at Fort Jackson, a gauntlet of ten guns right and left that left our arms bloody and oozing stuff. Shortly after returning to duty, severe symptoms of Lyme disease rocked me. A year later I believed I'd had a severe mental breakdown. Nearly twelve years later I nearly died trying desperately but failing to get real medical intervention.  

Any rational inference drawn from my experience combined with other facts speaks of a decades long epidemic of Lyme disease in the USA and possible others that has resulted in denial of treatment or bogus diagnoses for millions of victims. The only possible reason is that the practice of phony medicine pays better. A lot better. If you don't understand how that works then you're likely to be next victim. I've told you what they've done to me and other family members. I've told you that they've denied appropriate treatment dozens of times and pursued me with mental disorder propaganda for decades, crimes magnified by the complete loss of careers, credentials, property and earning potential. Study my account carefully, accept the reality of danger to the public at large, and now you should be able to protect yourself from being exploited by fraudulent medicine. That's the reason why two thirds diagnosed with mental disorders in the USA cannot be really mentally ill, the central fact highlighted in Robert Whitaker's book, Mad in America. Most are probably suffering from Lyme disease. 

For the sake of helping others grappling with such a disease, let me try to describe symptoms in more detail. What is the structure of this massive cyst most prominent in the maxillary sinuses? I didn't really understand that very well myself until the last couple of months when the antibiotic started breaking it up, but had I heard anything like that from other Lyme sufferers it would have helped a lot. It consists basically of a meandering mass of gooey, rubbery, toxic, fatty material that fills my sinuses and then spreads deeply throughout body tissues and extremities. Where cyst can be felt, it is nearly indestructible, so be sure the bacteria have spread and the colony as a whole is thoroughly merged with body tissues. Toxins released by the Borrelia bacteria bind tightly to fatty material pulled from the host creating an impenetrable barrier to host defenses. The toxin is soluble and sour tasting. It causes muscles to swell, cramp and twitch continually. It can cause intense burning sensations, especially in the sinuses and if concentrated enough cause severe pain, agitation, even death in rare cases. It may have started with a tick bite with a circular rash. I always said I could not remember anything like that, but then when the doctor was removing the wens where I knew the Borrelia was active, he expressed surprise at a red ring surrounding the wen. It hit me then and I even remembered the tick bite. The two wens were the sites of two tick bites that introduced the Lyme bug and were still infected 56 years later.  

Other symptoms of Lyme became noticeable at that time (age 16 in 1964). I noticed sharp clutching in my back muscles. It certainly got my attention and worried me, but like a lot of Lyme symptoms, they come and go. A couple of years later I became dangerously downcast as a result of family abuse, but my angst was still excessive. It wasn't until 1968 that I began to be overwhelmed by burning sensations and toxic chemicals coming from those areas. Later I suffered numerous so called panic attacks which would have more properly been called Lyme muscle attacks where it feels as if the body is convulsing in pain and out of control. Lyme symptoms come and go, but there are extremely difficult times when victims experience intermittent loss of muscle control, spasms, visual disturbances, panic attacks and agonizing pain. These acute episodes coming without warning also stamp an ever present dread of what might be yet to come. It is a vicious disease. The rigged testing for Lyme should be corrected, and everyone tested for it. 

In my long experience, the core of the cyst is made of a colony of bacteria where most of the toxin is trapped and concentrated. The gradual release of toxin causes discomfort and pain with extreme variation and a potential for serious damage or death. Bacteria at the core produce the toxin which draws lipids from surrounding epithelium and concentrates them into an insulating mass of viscous fatty material. This insulates the bacteria from physical or chemical attack since nothing can get through such hardened, elastic fatty material. Obviously the medical profession must harbor some knowledge of the real problem or it wouldn't be so resistant to physical diagnostics. We can't point a sharp finger at every doctor, but obviously the fraud is entirely deliberate on some level and doctors are such well conditioned, self serving robots that they can get away with murder while easily pleading innocence. Would you allow a known serial killer to tell you what's wrong with you and prescribe medication? Of course, you likely can't escape in the home of the brave, but you can learn from me and know how to avoid being thoroughly screwed. 

So, reading witness and victim testimony, is how I came to conclude by 2013 that Lyme disease was at the root of all the trauma and medical fraud I'd suffered most of my life with. It wasn't until 2020 that enough physical evidence was found to nail it, and that's why I'm not holding back telling you about it. When the doctor 2008 cut out the wens we were both mystified by the red material spreading around inside a ball of fat. I didn't have any inkling that the fatty material was identical to that in the sinuses and thoroughly embedded in flesh from head to toe. Nor could I be certain that there was a colony of bacteria in the midst of it all until the last shot with a drugstore antibiotic. Now it is certain that the red material in the wens is the same as throughout the body and that the color matches the Borrelia bug responsible for Lyme disease. If there were any doubts at all, the doctor who removed the regrown cysts in 2020 nailed it once and for all. Amazed by what he was seeing, a red ring formed around the wens, the familiar bull's eye pattern seen in new Lyme infections. Mine is the only case perhaps of the site of a Lyme tick bite that persisted for 56 years, but there can longer be any doubt that it happened.  

Still suffering the presence of diseased tissue by 1992, I determined to break down the material and get to the bottom of what had nearly killed me in the early 80's and caused such agony most of my life. A free gym helped me get enough exercise to help keep the beast at bay. When doing bench presses I'd strain against the burning cyst with all my might. Even though it had but the tiniest effect, I was determined to tear it down. My only chance was straining with all my might at the sore areas in my face. Back then the cyst wasn't malleable enough for facial contortions to be of much effect. That took near to another fifteen years, then the anti microbial properties in star anise broke the cyst down even more. While sour poison leaked faster through my lips, the presence of the diseased tissue became more easily felt and the severity of the worst symptoms declined. Now, in 2020 a breakthrough finding an antibiotic has inflicted serious damage on the Lyme pathogen, giving hope of a complete victory.  

After nine days of treatment with the new antibiotic, a Herxing reaction has forced me to stop. The bacteria are dying, but toxins are making me seriously ill. Recovery took a couple of days, then I tried a three day cycle on another antibiotic which did nothing. That cycle ends tomorrow, then back on the first antibiotic. The hardness in my lips and sinuses waxes and wanes, but the early morning torture has nearly disappeared. The sticky goo stuck to my gums after several hours of sleep has also diminished a lot, thanks to keeping my gums coated with bentonite and swallowing a tablespoon or two now and then to clear the lining of the gut of Lyme debris which must be there. 

I can tell that the bentonite hastens the flow of toxins through the skin in the mouth. Salivary glands appear to have been clogged, too. Super dry mouth during the night was no pleasure. There is still a lot of discomfort from hard cyst material in the upper lip. This connects to a large mass behind the right nostril. The cyst can be felt extending to below the eye as seen also in the 1998 MRI. From there the outline of the cyst blurs as it spreads throughout the body to settle into the legs and feet. In the early mornings I always feel this fatty goo crammed into cheeks, gums and lips. This Williston 1998 images are a pale reflection of what I feel inside, so I knew when I was being lied to by MD's. The MRI shows what seems to be only the approximate origin and center of a far more extensive cyst. The material is of extremely variable consistency, super hard near the center of mass, certainly not the "soft tissue mass" described by the MRI doctor. It's so unfortunate that I didn't connect the dots many years ago and realize the wens were tick bites where the Lyme disease was transmitted.

After 20 days of heavy antibiotic treatment there still remains an overwhelming amount of cystic material or debris and much toxin is still leaking through both lips. It sometimes flows out fast enough to cause stomach pain and nausea. In the center of the mass in the upper lip I can distinctly feel an extremely hard fiber amid a bundle of fiber structures. One or two have needle sharp ends which I would guess a rupture occurred in 1980 that caused my abrupt breakdown and near death. Before understanding the wens I saw this as the origin of the active Lyme colony. It probably is the center of mass, but the bacteria are everywhere at least in the muscles and skin whether they can be seen or not. Intermittently, leaking toxins can trigger nerves to explode like grenades at random throughout the body. The worst of that was the intense sensation of having my legs pulverized relentlessly by robot with sledge hammers. Unpleasant numbness in the face and souls of the feet is all that is left the horrific breakdown I barely survived forty years ago last April.   

By now I'll have interjected knowledge after the fact, so the order of this account will be a little jumbled, but the critical realization hit me ONLY NOW as I write this. I had seen the Lyme bacteria with my own eyes in 2008 when I asked a Thai doctor to remove the wens on the top of my head that first popped up in 1964. That was when my eyes abruptly went from perfect to nearsighted, the right eye being about four times worse in proportion the distribution of cyst you see in the 1998 MRI. The wens never caused any discomfort, but their size had doubled in recent years. A Thai doctor would just do the job and not try to convince me the cysts were in reality bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. When he had carved out the first wen, he said, "Hey, look, there's something in there!" He was quite curious and showed it to me. The wen was mainly a pillowy, cream colored, fatty mass. Winding through the fatty material there were these fine, red filaments spreading outward from an almost solid core of red matter. We both were pondering at the stuff. Sure wish I'd asked for micro photographs. The second wen was the same. Unfortunately, I didn't connect what I was seeing with the disease that had destroyed my life. There it was, the same budding colony of Lyme that germinated out of a tick byte in 1964. Despite emphatic denials from the government, Lyme disease was rampant in Montana by 1960 and likely always existed there. How many others were infected in Montana? What has happened to them since? I want to know.   

After removal of the wens, they returned about five year later. They never got very large but you could feel with your finger two very hard balls of elastic fat through the skin. I now assume that they returned only because there were active bacteria that had been missed by the doctor. I hate to blame the Thai pathologist, maybe the antibiotic had killed them, but I do think the doctor didn't use a microscope and can't believe there were no photographs taken if he did. Anyway, it really hardly matters now because the proof of Lyme disease is very well established on other grounds. The significance of the wens also settles that the cause was not exposure to any of the pathogens or deadly gas rumored to roam in Dugway, Utah where I was company clerk. They are proof that the government has been telling Rocky Mountain lies for decades about the extent of Lyme disease and that more than one species of tick is responsible. It really wouldn't surprise me if the deer tick thought to exist only in the northeast US is crawling around all fifty states. Not after they insisted there were no wolves in Yellowstone and spent decades trying to make a crazy out of me. But I do think that it was not the same deer tick that infected me in Montana. Whatever species it was, it fed on the many thousands of jackrabbits and gophers around Toston, not deer. The wens also appeared at the time I first experienced the trademark clutching in muscles, starting in my back and spreading all over like lightning tracks. I thought something was very wrong, but adults tell the sixteen year old kid they don't like much that it's only growing pains. Were these really symptoms of bipolar disorder or schizophrenia as I was told so many times?

Those bright red filaments were without doubt the same fibrous structures I could sense deep in the facial cyst when I'd nearly died in 1981. For decades ago I thought they were nerves. What I used to take as pieces of damaged maxillary nerve were actually a fibrous structure made by a spirochete. Now, 39 years later, the traumatic memory of those living structures ripping my face apart has faded little. Now I know this was only the thickest part of a cyst that had caused indescribable torture in other areas of the body and nearly left me dead. Now I can still make out remnants of those fibers that still contain the most active bacteria; indeed, their presence is a never ending pain. They are surrounded everywhere by a gooey, fatty, rubbery substance extending to all parts of the body, but especially in the legs and feet. Toxins secreted by the Lyme spirochetes readily bind to interstitial fatty material robbed from the host, creating an increasingly hardened mass of fat intimately bound to host body tissue which it has invaded undetected. Under the right conditions. These red filaments slice through soft body tissues. If the fatty covering is disturbed enough, toxins are pushed out. If too toxin is released at once, spasms, bone breaking pain and trauma will be experienced by nerves and muscles separately or in whole groups at a time. In a real sense, I myself experienced death from Lyme in 1981. I was like one of those dudes in the operating room who dies for a while, then returns from Heaven or Hell with big stories to tell. It wouldn't be possible to overstate the damage Lyme disease has done to me, but even that wasn't as bad as what the doctors did to me on top of that.  

The red filaments in the wens reminded me of the lowly ostracod sperm. A bundle of sperm occupy a sac inside the little bivalve crustacean. Each sperm could be the longest known cell in the animal kingdom. The smaller ones are only about 500 microns as I recall, depending on the species. When the shell of the ostracod is crushed, this bundle ruptures and sperm break out, each as long as a millimeter or more and wiggling wildly. They're like tiny fibers about 20 microns in diameter (as fifty year memories serve). Think of that, a critter one billionth the size of a human with sperm a million times bigger than a human. The filamentous penetration of Lyme, however, forms a continuous colony head to toe. It's interesting that true filamentous bacteria are common in sewage plants where they attract and feed on fats. One species of Borrelia is known to create filaments and the species that causes Lyme is also responsible for the bright fibers growing out of the skin in Morgellons disease. As a parasite, the Lyme Borrelia entrenches itself behind a firewall of fat drawn from host cells much as does it's co parasite, the medical brotherhood. How dare you bastard American doctors deliberately refuse diagnostics so you could stick a fool with a bogus mental disorder you could use to wring him and his bank account to death! We are not conspiracy theory, these are the facts. 

The overall cyst has shrunk noticeably after three to four weeks. The result is that the extent and nature of it is more easily felt and understood. Surely, it consists largely of debris from dead bacteria, islands of fat everywhere but largely very resistant to being further broken down. It's unlikely the microbes are entirely dead and that no viable spores (round bodies) remain. It's hard to imagine that a single, interconnected bacteria colony had spread throughout my body by 1968, but that is the case. It was the cause of many vicious attacks in the 1970s that wracked my entire body and that doctors told me were panic attacks and nothing else. All day and night fifty years hence I can distinctly sense the presence of this material everywhere with toxic effects such as muscle twitching, numbness and flashes of pain. This explains the unbearable agony experienced during the 1980 breakdown when the disease had reached a lethal level of activity. With this new knowledge, I've shed the instinctive fear that it will strike again with serious force. As the antibiotics do their job, the increased presence of slime throughout the body signifies further softening of the cyst. This is not what mental illness does, it's what microbes do. These toxins being far more concentrated on the right in the sinuses and gums is certainly the reason for the loss of so many teeth, seven teeth on the right side by 2017. You see the same pattern in numerous cysts that lodged in my kidneys several times beginning in 1976. I do think strong coffee was a factor, but the Lyme disease typically magnifies the severity of other health problems and contributed to the kidney cysts and disintegration of disks in my lower back. 

So, after thirty days, is it safe to assume that all the bacteria are dead? No, so here goes the next ten days of antibiotic, still pushing the limit at six grams a day, one every four hours day and night. The first day I took the antibiotic was the first time I'd been able to sleep past four in the morning for weeks so it clearly did damage to the infection where growth in the sinuses had been increasing to a serious level. My blood pressure had been consistently well over 90 and sometimes over a 100 while my pulse was usually over 110 and often over 140, but has been dropped noticeably to about 115 over 75. This could be attributed to less pressure on capillaries from loosening of the cyst. Just prior to starting the antibiotic I'd blacked out on two occasions from irregular heartbeat and blood pressure swings. This alarmed me enough to take another look at antibiotics, especially after recognizing the absurdity of my statement to the Montana governor and Office of Public Instruction that I could not be suffering from an infection, that all could be blamed on the beatings I suffered as a child. What happened to my former deep conviction for many years that the symptoms had to be Lyme disease? Certainly, I just wanted to take a jab at the absurdity of offering victims of sexual assault a waiver on the statutes of limitations while leaving victims of life threatening physical assaults in the cold. So, now, suddenly, there is no doubt that Lyme disease was the right call. Trouble is, at this time there is still no hard, physical proof of Lyme. That will soon change... 

Week five now, the sticky mass in my sinuses remains very uncomfortable and has accumulated  heavily in both upper and lower lips. Sour tasting toxin still flows into my mouth from the lips and sometimes the roof of the mouth. The concentration of toxin continues to slowly decline. The numbness in legs and feet has subsided while at the same time there is a more and more distinct perception of the slime oozing everywhere in my body. The nerves were too dead in those areas to feel much for decades, but now the increased levels of sensation signal more breakdown of cyst material. In Thailand I'm safe from human parasites and can concentrate on killing off the Borrelia without being threatened with confinement while being shot down for an antibiotic prescription. Now is the time to strike the enemy a lethal blow if ever there was.

The bentonite has also been absorbing the toxins from the lining of the mouth and probably helping trap even more in the gut. It isn't pleasant to use and easy to forget, but definitely effective. There is a lot more muscle tightness in the lips because of larger amounts of toxin flowing into the mouth from antibiotic treatment, lip biting and facial contortions. A lot of cyst material has also migrated from the sinus towards the front of the face.  Filaments of Lyme bacteria can be felt deep inside islands of fat. If visible, they would be the same strong red color seen inside the fat in the wens on my scalp. I'll get a stiff argument trying to convince people, but in the end I'll have a doctor who agrees with me. An MRI might tell part of the story, but living with a disease for decades yields the most important information. When I say the fat inside the wens is part of the cyst material in the sinuses and is also well established in other areas of the body, I should be believed. When I say the red mass of filaments inside the fat in the wens is a bacteria colony that has spread throughout the body, I should be believed. All evidence so far comprises proof that a bacteria is responsible for all the suffering for more than fifty years and proof that the medical profession deliberately used symptoms of Lyme disease in an attempt to exploit me with psychoactive drugs. If not guilty of theft and genocide, the authorities would have provided the appropriate diagnostics at least forty years ago.  

A grave concern is the possibility that my children were born with the same disease, the best evidence being again the withholding of reasonable dialogue and diagnostic procedures that could have shed light on very strange and distinctive symptoms all three displayed at birth that escalated dramatically following each MMR vaccination, at least four times in one child. In the early 90s the increase in these symptoms resulted in severe and permanent disability in all three children that persists to this day. These bear many similarities to symptoms of my own, but I could not have transmitted the disease. Their symptoms bear even stronger resemblance to those experienced by their mother since about age five. All of them could have been affected by an infectious disease syndrome that has never been considered despite frequent suggestions by me. It is known that congenital Lyme disease is a real problem. You'd expect such a vicious disease to be even more devastating if acquired in the womb. Would the government deliberately cause children to endure unbearable suffering and be horribly impaired by turning its back on Lyme disease? Damn right. You know it, because that's what was done to me. The government has always insisted that there is zero evidence of endemic Lyme disease in Montana (https://bit.ly/3heHeAB). The industry scientists are lying, because I caught Lyme from two tick bites in 1964 in Toston, Montana. The reason there is no evidence for Lyme in Montana is because for sixty years or more the bastards have bent over sweeping it under the rug and calling it mental illness. By declaring it impossible to acquire endemic Lyme, the bastards have made it impossible to diagnose or treat it properly, that is all. For me, Lyme disease, and it is Lyme disease, has been a devastating disease, but I didn't catch it until age sixteen. What about those children who were born with it? Is it a crime to ask for thorough diagnostics from medical providers, especially when children are at grave risk? Apparently, it is. By the book, it would be a federal crime to withhold medical records from a parent because a parent has the greater responsibility, but that is the response I got. Someone doesn't want anybody else to know unless an employer needs to be educated about a mental illness diagnosis and once again the law means nothing. 

If I didn't know for a fact that the test for Lyme had been rigged, I would have gotten one years ago, but the accumulated evidence so far makes that unnecessary. Even a bull's eye rash from a tick bite has been often used as a definitive diagnosis of Lyme disease. Sure, I never saw such a thing at the time I yanked the tick out of my scalp in 1964, but the same rash occurred when the doctor was removing the wens fifty six years later. It cannot possibly be a coincidence. Nor is it possible that the red material observed inside the wens were anything but bacteria, the same bacteria causing disease in the sinuses and elsewhere. If the disease were a different tick borne disease like tularemia (rabbit fever), the bacteria would not be dark red in color and the disease symptoms would be different. It's Lyme disease and the government and medical profession have been lying for decades. But it's too late now, isn't' it? My children after near forty or past. They never stood a chance. 

One child did appear to be autistic at birth due to unusual passivity. How many newborns don't utter at least one cry? A year and a half later he was doing fine and talking, but a few days after his first MMR shot he quit speaking entirely and degenerated into stimming behaviors. I had never heard arguments over the safety of vaccines, so thought it just a coincidence. In about two years he had improved a little, but when the next shot came he was back to ground zero. I said to my wife, isn't it strange that both times he's had an MMR shot he's gone into the ozone? Could it be the shots? The next shot came when he was eight. He had improved a lot but was getting punished by teachers and administrators for not giving them responses they felt he should be. He was actually of a very passive and innocent frame of mind, not knowingly defying them as they wished to believe. Then came the next MMR and he shut down completely, even to the extent that he needed to be toilet trained all over again. It was obvious by then that the MMR vaccinations was the major cause of these autistic plunges. The third was supposed to be his last, but it didn't go on his records, so he was given a fourth in Missoula without my knowledge. 

I don't want to hear propaganda about logical fallacies and hysterical parents. I'm very well educated and from my experience can state with perfect confidence that Robert F. Kennedy among thousands of parents like myself, are telling the truth and the government is lying about vaccines causing autism, though I'm just as positive in my own case that a deeper cause was something else evident at birth. This isn't theory, it's cold, hard fact. From years of close observation, vaccines alone could not have been the only cause of these tragedies. Similar symptoms observed at birth raised serious suspicions, but we were unable to arouse any concern with medical providers. There is a 100% chance I caught Lyme in Montana in 1964, a 100% chance the government has been lying about that, and there is adequate reason to suspect that our children were born with the disease, but tests for them were never considered necessary. You just have to get used to it or be slapped with a personally demeaning label. 

My daughter also exhibited a marked neurological frailty and excessively passive behavior at birth. Her jaw would quiver all the time. She would sweat profusely when sleeping. She developed too slowly. Her soft spot took too long to heal. She improved over the years, dressing in nice clothes and involved in school functions. Then, suddenly, following an MMR shot at age 14, she stopped talking, became antisocial, lost concentration, took up smoking, started dressing in baggy clothes and has since had crippling headaches nearly every day. She turned 41 last month, having spent a lot of time living on the streets. It was impossible to talk to her, so I could do nothing, but I did notice small muscle spasms similar to my own. The last fifteen years the muscles in her neck had become chronically afflicted with painful spasms and swelled to the point that she had to have an operation. It's no surprise that the only diagnoses for her that I've ever managed to pick up on had to do with mental disorders. For reasons unknown her records were locked by the state of Colorado and I was denied access, no reason given. Every American doctor loves mental disorders. They require no physical evidence, require endless repeat visits and psychoactive drugs pay handsome annuities, not to mention that they invariably create symptoms that match the ones they purport to treat. Serious complications, often incurable result from extended drug "therapy." As her parent, I was responsible for her welfare, but was stripped of the power to monitor or question. Being denied access to her records I knew was a felony, but the agencies responsible for policing the law also shot me down. But years before my own records were used without my permission as reason for being fired. No surprise that the records of that breach were later withheld from me. 

Failing answers for the kids, in 2002 I requisitioned records for other family members. The doctor had left Williston by then so I felt safe requesting records, even though I had to fork over $900 for the MRI. I knew the doctor wouldn't order an MRI for sinus troubles, so baited him with the idea that I might have an alien implant. Anyway, there was good reason to suspect residual damage from the beatings in the fifties. Efforts to trap me into a bipolar diagnosis were absent as well as some images, but there were dozens of the diseased sinus tissues. This was clearly well entrenched by 1968 and no less extensive up until 2020 when I started the new antibiotic, despite the insistence of many doctors that what was still screaming bloody murder from my face had simply disappeared. I didn't bother with another MRI or CAT here in Thailand because I can sense very well what is going on in the sinuses and see no need in getting heavy blasts of radiation for a crap shoot that leads nowhere. Thailand has no Lyme ticks, so the doctors wouldn't know where to go with it. 

The cat and mouse game over diagnostics and records was played for decades, so the fraud over Lyme disease is entrenched in America. Severe negligence and violations of federal law mean only that what is called hard science is a sham and the law serves only to protect only medical providers from the most severe ethical breaches. No crimes against human beings are worse. Nobody is outright murdered but instead allowed to suffer agony and disgrace until death grants long overdue mercy. Decades seeking opportunities for effective imaging and assays for microbial infection brought me only ridicule and veiled threats from doctors, yet after fifty years there is no other possibility that I was suffering from a serious infection. Right now the only possible match to the symptoms is Lyme disease, so Lyme disease definitely is endemic to Montana. 

Certainly, I'd welcome a serious challenge to that conclusion, but I won't get one because the system is rotten all the way to the core.  It is not imagination or distortion that the medical brotherhood and the government have consistently denied proper medical treatment to myself and family members and ought to be collectively serving life in prison for these crimes. It is not possible that millions of others have been treated the same and that the government and medical system should be held accountable for mass exploitation, torture and murder. Divine justice may be the current corona virus pandemic. On a per capita basis, the odds of dying of covid-19 is 400 times higher in Thailand than in the home of the brave. Why? Because medicine in Thailand may not be perfect, but it isn't fake. The same could be said about other social conditions. I'm 400 times safer and healthier in Thailand in every respect. Kids do not beat each other bloody, administrators do not sign in as teachers to ogle kiddie porn, and children are well behaved and polite to a fault. 

Still biting, stretching, squeezing the bundle of fibers above the upper lip. Sour toxin is pouring out, but the fibers remain intact and new pockets of fat accumulate in and around the lips from material being pulled in that direction. I still feel a large mass of disease above the roof of the mouth and in the sinuses. At night I can feel the infection heavy in my jaws and cheeks, though the strong burning sensation is mostly gone. Often, I feel that being entirely rid of the infection is hopeless, as entrenched as the remnants still are and gobs of rubbery fat everywhere. But after I get out of bed and the blood gets moving, I'm optimistic about a full recovery. Most of the time I feel as if I've won the battle. I feel brand new like someone just released after 52 years in prison. I'm choosing to believe that the new antibiotic will extinguish the disease given sufficient time and effort. Having claimed victory many times in the past and failed, I won't be able to let my guard down until every last symptom is gone. By now, Meaw refuses to believe I'll ever be cured. She's been with me for twelve years and has heard all this too many times. 

For so many years I thought it all began with the son of the school principal in Three Forks honoring his daddy by leaving me dead on the track field. I felt safer there after dozens of beatings the year before in Drummond that didn't do any permanent harm. At Three Forks I'd never spoken to classmates or given anyone reason to dislike me. I did not stand out except unless for being very small, somewhat undeveloped, and new to town. The question of why the boy and his dad hated me enough to kill me is a mystery, but maybe it carried over from Drummond where I was already a well established punching bag after my mother got into a tiff over the bus stop. I thought I was taking hits for that, but on looking back on many other grounds I later doubted she was my defender. I'm not aware that she had any contact with the Three Forks principal, but there had to be a reason he despised me enough to see me dead. Only now am I sure the school beatings had nothing to do with the disease afflicting me since 1968. Several years ago I'd settled on Lyme due to fraud associated with it, but solid proof eluded me. It was the blatant arrogance and wilful negligence of doctors over many years that made Lyme the only possibility. Now, finally, more than adequate proof rests in the effectiveness of the new antibiotic and in matching the contents of the wens that appeared in 1964 in Toston, Montana. If the fatty content is not only the same substance, but the same continuous cyst, and having seen the red material in the center of it in 2008, the only rational conclusion is that this is the bacteria responsible for the disease. Since it was the site of a tick bite, well, the only possibility is that the disease was transmitted by a tick. And, since only the color and disease symptoms match Lyme, well, there go you. That the surgeon in 2020 described a circular band of red around the wens is way more than enough proof, even if it should have been gone 56 years ago. The one and only fact is that it is Lyme disease. Finally, it is not possible that millions of other victims have been destroyed by fraud used to cover up the extent of the disease and attribute it to causes with better financial rewards.   

In American culture, doctors are gods. The notion that they are nearly infallible men of hard science is pounded into us by the media. This permits diagnostic negligence to become established as part of normal business. Few are qualified to question them and those who might have credibility risk their jobs and those who get Lyme disease are almost guaranteed to lose them. I instinctively distrusted doctors since the age of six because of my mother's irrational worship of them. The one who deliberately broke my arm very much hardened that distrust. So, when it appeared I'd had a severe breakdown in 1969 I knew better than to try them out. Instead, I hid out in tents and basements as long as possible. I knew the "panic attacks" were really symptoms of a very serious disease, but also verified my impression that trying to get medical help was the worst thing to do.  By slow degrees and in spite of insufficient finances, I punished myself to the limit, usually studying sixteen hours a day to achieve proficiency in math and science subjects chosen to be the toughest. When I ran out of GI Bill and took a job, but soon collapsed from the disease. Seeking help from doctors destroyed my career and left me to die a slow, agonizing death. I certainly wasn't bipolar or schizophrenic as many doctors tried to convince me, and I didn't get sucked in my a phony Lyme doctor. The ONLY possible cause of my disease is Lyme caught from a tick in 1964. 

A PE teacher I worked with in Missoula quit and came back to visit a year later. He bragged about getting over six figures a year as a pharma rep and his wife was now doing the same. He said if a doctor could push enough of their drugs, he'd get an expense paid vacation to an exotic paradise and the pharma rep could tag along and wait on him. Tote his bags I guess. Cross my heart and hope to die, this really did happen. American medicine is no better than dope dealing in the ghetto. It's a sick joke. But let me entertain you with a story about my stint as a network technician in Missoula Public Schools. The agronomy teacher at Big Sky High, Gene McLure, had a big aluminum tank with a gorgeous rainbow trout swimming around. He kept a big net of thick rope over the tank so the fish couldn't jump out. One day when I was talking to Gene's friend, Al Stohle, I just blurted out, "You tell your buddy George that I'm going to get that fish!" Don't ask me why I said that. It was just an impulse popping out of a mind being assaulted by Borrelia disease and mercury leaking out of a new batch of amalgams. 

Stupid as it was, I started dreaming about that fish, convinced I should own him. At a loss as to how to do it, I began beseeching God... "I know that was a stupid thing to say, God, but a person has to be a man of his word just like you. I can't steal the fish, they'd put me in jail or a loony bin. You know how stupid a request this is, but you have to admit I don't ask a  lot, and if you were to somehow get me that fish, I'd know you were looking out for me even though you never seem to be bothered and I don't blame you." 

You're not supposed to test God, but maybe he could spare me a little hope after the big NDE decades earlier when I was dying of Lyme. I wanted to somehow match up to all the other Christians who claimed to chat back and forth with God most of the day. Just give me this. About a week later I went out to the tech center to see Gene. I passed by the fish tank and net on the way to his office and did a little computer maintenance. When we walked out, here this fish had somehow gotten out and  was on the cement floor flipping his last flops. I was dumbfounded, then overcame my shock and asked George, "Hey, can I have the fish, Gene old boy?" 

There was a brief suspense, then Gene replied, YEAH! So, I put that big ole rainbow on a willow stick just like I did as a kid and paraded up and own the halls of Big Sky, making a special at the main office. I slapped my slimy lunker on a copy machine and stuffed copies in Stohle's mailbox. Our gossipy secretary declared me a liar. She thought it absurd that a fish jumped out and died at my feet after I'd asked God to get him for me. I said then call McClure and ask him. She just stuck her nose up higher, so I grabbed her phone and rang Gene. Holding the fish up high with the stick. "Gene old boy, please inform Carol that your prize fish jumped through a heavy net and landed on the floor right at our feet." Then I gave the phone to her. Her jaw fell. 

Describing my symptoms has never been easy, especially since nobody ever listened. But I do not exaggerate them. It has been necessary to hide them as best I can. It's been a desperate, private battle with unspeakable agonies, trying to live a normal life in spite of significant impairment. During nights the flow system of the body slows and the toxins would build, so countless times I've been driven out of bed. For three full months in 1969 after leaving military service I slept not a wink, but ran for miles to blind myself from the pain. This does work, because after seven months I was feeling half normal. Now it's not so bad, but muscles twist and pull randomly and relentlessly, not usually in such a painful way, but enough to be annoying as Hell and impair concentration. In the 70s and 80s before discovering vitamin B it was far worse. The whole body would go out of control or I'd lose all sensation in my arms. Someone would me to the ER in desperation. I often felt on the brink of convulsions or seizures. The doctors always insisted they were harmless panic attacks, but I never saw a doctor who wasn't entirely full of shit. 

The 1980-81 breakdown took my career, worldly possessions and nearly my life. To have any chance of earning a living and getting through the next second of intolerable agony was to somehow conceal it and fake it to the world. Feeling of imminent death came and went less frequently over the years and thanks to vitamin B, other supplements and vigorous exercise, I gradually improved, but never have I had a moment free of symptoms.  Thanks to star anise extract several years ago, the disease began to weaken. Now, as the new antibiotic kills off the bug, it seems areas in the face may be too damaged to ever heal. How does one know when the bug is dead? How many spores still wait to be revived? Wherever the toxin is, it has used body fats to build an anchoring structures of tough, elastic material that strangles host tissue. It feels at times that important parts of my being have been destroyed by toxic sludge. This feeling can be very painful in regions of my face where the infection is the worst and where the presence of bacteria can be felt. This does cause quirks in my behavior that hopefully aren't noticed much, but there have been many times someone took delight in drawing attention to them. Never in 40 years was I given enough time to explain any of these symptoms to a doctor. They are drug peddlers, nothing more. But in Thailand they do listen. I can explain any symptoms without fear of ridicule and expect reasonable answers without aspersions about my sanity. Indeed, the last doctor I spoke to was amused and surprised that my symptoms were ever diagnosed as a mental disorder and could give no objection to them being caused by Lyme.

Armed with the 1998 MRI, a 2002 venture to Mayo clinic, Mecca of modern medicine, was planned in hopes of confirming the imaging and getting an authoritative diagnosis. I included detailed diagrams of where the disease was located in my face and an outline of symptoms. At the Mayo clinic, five or more doctors ran me through a variety of meaningless physical tests like bending and reflex hammers. The lady who put me into the MRI took images everywhere but where I'd asked them to be done. I was unprepared for the offer of a hand job. Another was a neurologist I thought would have the materials and images handy, but he ignored all discussion except to reply that "we see cases like this all the time." Pushing my request for a biopsy aside, he pursued a hard pitch for schizophrenic drugs, claiming that they could relieve me of "those dark thoughts."  What thoughts? Did he mean the filthy Japanese worm in front of me pretending to be a doctor? Just what I'd been through for 25 years already. No real diagnostics, no real medicine, just psychic shaman stuff to drain my wallet while I suffered from a terrible disease. After they billed my insurance for $6,000 I ordered the images. Very few taken, none aimed at the problem. 

Later Obamacare made it a crime not to pay for insurance in advance, making it near impossible to object to unwanted medical services or bogus diagnostics. Why not rape? I traveled 1400 miles to Minnesota and ripped off the insurance company for a bundle. Following that I went to yet another Missoula doctor and asked for an MRI. Instead, he took a quick X ray and declared the disease had disappeared, never mind the dire agony it was giving me day and night at the time. I didn't bother to come back, but was beginning to realize it wouldn't be possible to stay in the USA if I wanted to survive. 

Having boosted the dose from four to six grams a day after the first ten days, the fibers deeply buried above the lips no longer feel like rods of steel but have diminished considerably. There is still a mass of congealed slime from everywhere in the face extending down to the legs and feet. It's still uncomfortable at night, but far less than before the antibiotic. I no longer have nasty headaches or extreme burning sensations. The sticky goo adhering to my gums and cheeks in the mornings isn't nearly as thick as it used to be and my mouth not so dry. I'll do this as long as the disease debris is there or until I can't take more antibiotic. Perhaps Lyme or not isn't that important to me anymore, but the circumstances of their own debilitating conditions are suspiciously like mine and the behavior of the doctors no less suspicious than that of Lori Daybell. Have my children been sentenced to the same death?  Or you or yours. I can tell you that there's no pain like watching your daughter disappear into an oblivion of private pain, lost on the streets of Denver. 

While waiting to finish the antibiotic treatment, let me mention the statistics theorem I first discovered in 1978 in grad school. Those proficient enough with math to follow the proof are rare, but a decent mathematician would agree that is a keen insight into the theory of experimental design and a superb example of a complex mathematical derivation. If your own PhD expert claims never to have heard of a randomized block design as did a friend of mine, then call him the liar he is. I've been accused me of plagiarizing it and all sorts of things. For the specific purposes of my master's thesis, the point of the theorem doesn't add much of practical value, but it does yield a parameter that would be useful in other research designs. The purpose of appending it to this account is to prove my well developed facility for pattern recognition and rational inference. It amply verifies my ability to draw reliable conclusions honed by many years of advanced problem solving in math and science. Most importantly, it proves that the observations and conclusions about my own illness can be accepted as accurate.  

More about my thesis that you can learn more about in the theorem chapter. It was a 200 cell randomized block with four replications of 25 NPK treatments and numerous paired comparisons. Forever embedded in my mind was thousands of hours of laboratory work analyzing plant and animal samples followed by thousands of mathematical tests for significance and future predictions. I had a three or four foot stack of green bar spit from the mainframe just for regression analysis of the lab data. My brain was permanently transformed by years of advanced, rigorous scientific analysis into a data seeking and analyzing machine of it's own right, hence the theorem. I'm conditioned to identify patterns in everyday life and form a reliable estimate of how significant they are and what conclusions can be safely drawn from them. This makes me more than just a victim, it makes me more than just an expert witness in any court of law. More to the point, it means is that the claims I've made regarding Lyme disease and the criminal acts by medical providers and government providers you can believe. As a highly trained scientist, I'm entitled to that. My academic record is included with the theorem as additional proof of a sound mind. I have never had symptoms of bipolar disorder, schizophrenia or any other mental disorder, but my symptoms do match up pretty well with this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAbq-U6rHXU

My background and intimate familiarity with the disease, affirms in every respect the judgments made in this document. That culpability for the destruction of the lives of my wife and children and beyond that, grave questions about the failure to investigate the possibility they also suffer from an infectious disease. Deliberate negligence was intended to exploit me for profit without regard to expectation of serious harm, even death to myself and those who depend on me. To avoid that in 1981, it was necessary to abandon my career and home and isolate myself for years without income in Bellingham. I did do work on a few jobs through church contacts, but these weren't enough to pay food and rent. Besides, they were all dishonest businesses in the name of God. A Christian investment group in Bellingham wanted me as an expert with established academic credentials to evaluate a hydro power plant that locals had invested millions in. This occurred about the same time millions had been lost in a similar investment after the IRS declared it a fraud and recovered 324 million dollars from.  I was promised a thousands bucks for using academic credentials to support the huge profits investors were promised. That would come in handy since the family was only eating during that period by kiting credit cards. Let me explain this further because it nicely confirms what I was saying about my excellent judgement and analytical talent. The promoters were expecting my expert projections to pump investors up and convince Puget Power to approve the project. 

Sorry, I don't lie even if my kids are starving. I had to see for myself if this was another tax fraud or not. I couldn't trust the Christian engineer's stated rainfall to begin with. He insisted that as an expert engineer he knew exactly what that was, but that was bullshit. Show me! So, how could I find out the real rainfall. There was no government data for exactly on that site,  but there were five nearby sites with fifty years monthly precipitation data. 

A regression analysis pegged the rainfall at about a third the engineer's claim. This was a 98% fit using Jack Lund's MSU stat, so you knew that was the real amount with a tiny margin of error. That left a 100% certainty that none of the investors would see much profit, not that it mattered too much to them as long as it wasn't found out. They made money from tax credits, not business profit. It gets worse. A lot worse. A good portion of rainfall would be further lost to evapotranspiration, another fact the engineer didn't seem to have thought about, so any profits are dwindling fast. How to figure that out? RUNOFF! Once gain, there were no runoff data for that site, but again, fortunately, there were runoff figures for five nearby sites. Correlating runoff to precipitation established another 98% fit, so I then knew exactly how much rain would fall and how much would be lost to evapotranspiration, and, hence, how much was left to generate power. It turned out that within the area enclosing all those sites, one could calculate precipitation and net runoff accurately for any point simply by using longitude. My report was submitted to Puget Power engineers who laughed heartily when using longitude values over the ocean and saw the model predicting it was raining upside down. Somehow, besides failing to note that the model was meant only for the area enclosed by the data, they overlooked the dummy fact that net rainfall is always positive over land and negative over water, so a net loss of usable water would occur. Doh!  It really makes a person wonder about American engineers. Of course, I didn't get the $1,000 because the IRS would have used to launch another bust and there may have been a few jail terms the second time. Nor would investors want to anyone to know the truth. 

I didn't even tell the crooks the worst of it. It was bad enough as it was. This had to be the dumbest engineer born. He designed the plant to accommodate monthly precipitation as if rain fell evenly over the course of a month. In fact, most of the rainfall comes in heavy bursts that would overflow the turbine plant and be wasted. It wasn't just that this further lowered expectations to little or no profit, but the first heavy rainfall could easily destroy the entire plant. It was a surprise to me that the plant lasted the few months it did before being destroyed. Realizing there was never going to be a penny earned and that trying to get Uncle Sam to rebate taxes was too risky, well, they smart enough to be gone soon after I left. The statistics theorem I've been touting didn't directly help with that problem, but it proves that my proficiency in general practical problem solving is second to none. Rigorous training and understanding of advanced mathematics also enables me to provide hard, scientific analysis of complex problems in business and engineering, even if the target audience doesn't want to hear it. Yet here the family was starving. I hadn't really recovered from the devastating breakdown of 1980, but was still the best hand on an honest deck. 

So, of course, I'm not your average dupe and know when I'm getting the shaft, and, baby, I've really gotten the royal shaft. My deep distrust of doctors was already well seasoned before an incident in Missoula when I was twelve or thirteen. It was shortly after leaving Dad in our Bearmouth railroad house to life in a trailer park in Missoula. I was eager to leave. Summers were great but short, while the rest of the year I had to look forward to more beatings that were likely to leave me dead. I had lived for four years in terror, knowing I'd be beaten to death. The trouble over where the bus would stop was what I figured was behind that then, but the truth is probably much darker. Now safe in Missoula, one day I got into a race with my sister for a sittin chair and ended up falling over with her sitting on my arm. My arm was dislocated and wouldn't extend past a right angle. I now understand it was out of joint which must have been apparent on the X-ray. Most likely you can still dig up the records for that incident from microfiche. 

Somehow, this giant, gung ho doctor got the idea that with my arm in the blood pressure position on a table, he could force it to be straight. Even a doctor couldn't be that stupid. Imagine a six foot four man reefing on the jammed arm of a 60 pound runt and imagine what kind of agony I must have been going through. I broke out in a cold sweat, went wild dizzy and about to puke. Suddenly, of course, my arm snapped in half at the elbow. You'd think there'd be some kind of oh no or regrets, but instead, he invited my mother in and they laughed and laughed about it without paying any mind about her son writhing around in pain with a broken arm. He pointed to the X-ray on the wall and said, damn, there was a chip of bone in there I didn't see. Later, I understood flirting. It was more like foreplay. My mother was born out of orbit in love with doctors, but this had been her major hero ever since he saved her life from a penicillin allergy (he prescribed the drug).  There was no way he could have not have deliberately broken my arm just to test her reaction. So you thought Hitler lost WWII! 

When I was at the lowest point in 1981 and near death from Lyme disease, I made a trip to Missoula to visit old friends, afraid I'd never see them again. While gone, the in laws called my mother and they were trying to arrange to have me committed. She mentioned at the time, "I always hated that kid." Yeah, that was the problem. A very twisted woman, someone I couldn't trust. Why do you suppose the Three Forks school principal, a man with a sacred obligation to love  children, have his own son kill a hapless eight year old? Something had to fire his jets. Also, dig the doctor who patched me up. I was suffering a severe concussion, still in shock from the battering. I should have been rushed to a hospital instead of a living room. I first awoke in the car on the way to the doctor. Being in shock, the seriousness of the injury hadn't hit. I blacked out again shortly after the visit and the next month or more was almost all black. 

So, this is why I lived with ticks whenever I could and considered if I could be a hermit. If I got the disease in 1964 in Toston, the disease must have spread quickly, because the wens were there and I was getting those bizarre body rushes that later turned out to be the disease. It spread from a pilot colony in the wen and found the ideal place to start a family in the middle of my poor, forking face. By 1968 at Dugway it was a fiery volcano erupting deep in my face, burrowing through the legs and feet and scaring the living piss out of me. I was acting weird and the other recruits were giving me a real hard time about it. I didn't know what was going on but was scared. It was the fall of 1969 when I had a very severe breakdown and couldn't function for the next eight months. That was nothing compared to the hit I took in 1980. 

So, having lived with the Lyme beast for the last 56 years, can I contribute anything? I know it well, indeed. It's a coherent, autonomous colony of red spirochetes, not random, disconnected cells. It behaves as only a single organism would while living inside of me, head to toe, like a tree with roots, and sometimes it really feels like I'm being eaten alive from the inside. The heart of the beast is an invasive anchoring structure in my face where the sinus lining has swollen with hardened fat and facial nerves have been brutally, probably irreversibly damaged. The disease has been partly or wholly to blame for disintegration of disks in my back, horrific kidney stones, kidney cysts, impairment of mobility, marked impairment of concentration, impairment of eyesight, heart arrhythmia and tachycardia, chronic fatigue, sleepless nights from burning sensations, and surely many things I don't even understand, but these I'm quite sure are symptoms of Lyme disease and nothing else, that's why the collective bastards tried so hard to make me a crazy guy.  

So how are we coming after five weeks? These last several days the cyst has softened and dissipated more yet. I can still clearly feel that tangle of "fibers" above the lip and the broken one with a sharp end, but they are smaller thanks to my own constant physical attack aided by the antibiotic. The fibers I believed were nerves in 1981 as I lay dying, but they turn out to be an anchoring structure formed by a Borrelia colony.  They are hard as steel but difficult to feel being so deeply embedded in rubbery substance. This goo is everywhere in the body, but only easily visible where it nearly fills the maxillary sinuses (refer again to the 1998 MRI image). I've tried and tried to pull out the broken fiber with my teeth and lips indirectly, but it can't be done. Being distinct from the fat surrounding, these fibers can only be bacteria, just as the red stuff in the wens must be bacteria. A beautiful micrograph of red spirochetes would sure be nice to slap em in the face with, but it isn't necessary to beat a Lyme horse to death.  For now, the ongoing strategy remains, six grams antibiotic a day, bentonite now and then, Clinicanthus now and then, using my lips to grind down the cyst. The more pain is felt, the more toxin is released and thus the size of the cyst material diminished. It's working, but it may still take forever. Who knows?   

Are you tired of me saying the same things over and over? I need to shrink the document considerably, but not sure what to cut out. Have I discussed how for decades doctors deliberately dodged diagnostics, lied to me, and did their best to stick me with bipolar disorder or schizophrenia? Just the right tests, correct diagnosis, and the right antibiotic would have saved my life and career. No pirate could have been more savage. Damn the bastards. There wouldn't be time to discuss the agonies this disease causes. My body is riddled with nauseous bacteria, but the stupid SAMF's maggots always must have known that.  The infection started 56 years ago and needed only a fraction of that time to sink its roots in deep. Eventually, it may still get the upper hand and prove fatal. May you die the death you sentenced me to.  

You can learn from me. First thing that made the difference between fully disabling misery and earning a living turned out to be mega doses of vitamin B. Other supplements like magnesium citrate and zinc picolonate help, but those aren't critically important. If you exercise vigorously twice or more a week, that makes the vitamins five times more potent. So, that's how you beat Lyme disease to a draw. Every Lyme victim seems to get attacked with different symptoms and everyone's symptoms change hour to hour, day to day, month to month, and year to year. Severity also waxes and wanes. During any phase of the disease over the last 52 years, nights are the worst because the flow system of the body slows down and the poisons accumulate. In my case this is mostly the face and that can be pretty awful. When I got out of the Army in 1969 I had a severe breakdown. I was unable to sleep a moment for over three months. That really is torture with no end in sight. I'd get up in the middle of the night and run like a madman up and down the street. Even fifty years later, I've usually been miserable by 3AM and forced out of bed. The fatty goo would ooze to the surface of gums and cheeks, a sticky mess that can be pulled away from flesh, but snaps back like an eternal rubber band. 

The Lyme was beating me up pretty bad in Missoula for two years before I got fed up and retired in Thailand in 2005. I invested a thousand dollars in more B vitamins, metal detox agents, chlorella, bentonite and magnesium citrate. That combined with extreme aerobic exercise twice or more a week playing Ultimate Frisbee with much younger folks brought me back to normal within a year. The last kidney cyst, the entire thing, came out a year later. Being larger but softer than the pointy stones, it involved more nausea than pain, taking an hour or more to wind through the tubes while I barfed into a toilet. 

Have I explained what happened in my super duper breakdown of 1980, only a year out of grad school? My heart suddenly raced out of control and energy reserves necessary to function were depleted. It took me two hours just to find my way out of Great Falls. The trip home to Ft. Benton was like a journey through the unknown. The next few days I went through more pain than one a human can endure, a relentless torture that subsided only a little while I sat on a Great Falls nut ward waiting for diagnostics on my sinuses that never came. I managed leave once I realized they weren't going to try and help me, but for the next year it was downhill to death. If I hadn't been crippled by  horrible drugs resulting forced on me, I might have lived. It was an unspeakably cruel way to die, but it did give me profound NDE. I would just like the reader to know that there is in fact a God of love watching over us all and a Heaven waiting. Maybe not for you, but for some of us...

So, just today I Googled for filamentous bacteria, particularly human pathogens. What I've earlier said about the fibers inside a mass of fat was before I had any memory of filamentous bacteria and that some attracted fats from the environment and fed on it. It does appear likely that the Lyme bacteria feed on fat as well as use it to help form a colony structure of boundless mass. This isn't unusual. Filamentous pathogens are known to occasionally infect the intestines where they create anchoring structures. In the case of Lyme disease, which I'd not specifically heard before, it is clear that these are not free living bacteria but capable of forming a widespread structure from host material. Morgellon's, caused by the same organism, produces not only fat, but brightly colored fibers that worm out of the skin. I'm not sure what the purpose of the large fibers is, but the Lyme bacteria are sometimes a deep blue and sometimes a deep red like Morgellons fibers. What we observed in the wens in 2008 was without doubt Borrelia colonies in the wens that had been there since 1964. Of course, I did not see the bacteria defined under a high powered microscope, but my eyes and brain were well trained in high school to interpret things on a very small scale. I took thousands of photographs under a microscope for thousands of hours when it wasn't a common thing to do. Please look at my microscope photo of ostracod sperm done in 1964. I had a pretty good idea of what I was seeing without the microscope and just as good on looking back at the inside of the wens in 2008. Since they grew back, I was hoping but failed to get a good photo of it this year. Perhaps they'll grow back again, but this last guy was really thorough so maybe not. If you want to gross yourself out, study up on cases of Morgellons such as this one: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5072536/. Several years ago I was plagued by what I thought were Majocchi lesions on my forearms. The Thai doctors argued me on the matter, but they did disappear after three pulses of itraconazole. On seeing Morgellon lesions, though, I believe they were more likely caused by the Lyme disease. Typical of Lyme symptoms, there were about three on the right arm and one or two smaller ones on the left. There seems to be no end of nasty things this spirochete is capable of inflicting. 

In 1964 I was probably far more susceptible to the disease than many decades later after I'd learned to keep it at bay. I got little exercise during Montana's long winters and wasn't nourished well. My mother would raise Hell if I ate too much. I did pile on a lot at times, but only because I was barely a hundred pounds and suffering terrible shame over my thin frame. The army vaccinations I strongly suspect as the reason the disease spun out of control and led to the 1969 breakdown. But again, I didn't get any exercise being company clerk and army chow wasn't that nutritious.  

Remember the famous actress, Patty Duke? She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder which she claimed to struggle with for decades until her death. She died from sepsis (disintegrating intestines). Maybe she was bipolar, but I sure never was, but American doctors spent 35 years trying to brainwash me into thinking so when the should have know better and must have known better. It may well be that she was instead suffering from a Borrelia infection which, like autism, is sometimes associated with gut problems. That's what I choose to believe in her case. I'm not sure why she thought lithium was helping her. Lithium was the banana peel that pushed me into the grave. I let myself be pressured into taking it shortly before my NDE in 1981. It made my body swell up like a balloon. My fingers were like hot wieners about to split. Walking was like wading through molasses. I tried to explain this all to a doctor, but as was always the case, he ignored my pleas, earnest as one who knows he will soon be dead. He insisted the lithium was fine, I was only depressed and needed other drugs. I knew then that I wasn't going to get help, but it was too late. Had I not quit right then, there wouldn't have been any come back from the near death experience. Whitaker's Mad In America, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mad_in_America, correctly chronicles that America has three times as many mentally ill and one third the recovery rate of third world nations. Instead of eradicating infectious disease as claimed, the American system hides infectious disease under the guise of mental illness and probably autism, Alzheimer's, chronic fatigue syndrome and others.  If you're impressed with a lot of hard references, read Robert Whitaker's book Mad in America

Having observed three of my children develop physical symptoms not too distant from my own at birth and again after each MMR shot makes me wonder if autism hasn't been used to cover up for infectious bacteria that interact poorly with vaccines.  The MMR erased my own son's personality four times in succession. Seeing all this with my own eyes is why I know the government is lying and believe Dr. Wakefield to be innocent of having faked his data on autism. Either way, it is no conspiracy and no theory that the MMR causes autism in some children, whether it be from mercury, aluminum, fetal tissue or whatever freakish stuff the Nazi bastards have put in them. If you've seen the propaganda that there is no longer mercury in vaccines, that is another lie. Thimerosal was removed, yes, but some mercury was left in spite of the claims that there is none. Maybe they also told you that aluminum is harmless because it's a major constituent of the Earth's crust. Yes, it is, but natural aluminum is tightly bound in silicates as any soil scientist like myself can readily tell you. Soluble aluminum found in vaccines is not harmless. How many lies do they have to tell before you realize that you can't believe anything they tell you? 

Whitaker has lifted the lid on how mental disorders are still used to abuse and exploit patients, but failed to draw the right conclusions. Based on what happens to people like myself, the shameless torture of the so called mentally in the 1800s chronicled by Clifford Beers has only shifted from lobotomies and straight jackets to deadly drugs. Americans have been blinded by intense media propaganda, giving unbridled license to doctors, pharmaceutical companies, and government agencies filled with greed. True scientific diagnostics are never required and subjective opinion never questioned, so the real causes of many conditions remain unknown. Victims are viciously exploited with bogus treatments for bogus diseases that cost a fortune but bar the way to recovery. 

Disability income is not difficult to get for a mental disorder, but then the trap is set. The "patient" is forced to go on permanent disability and loses all hope of finding a cure, and should he try to buck the diagnosis, the only income he/she has will likely be lost. From there on, the doctors, the pharmaceutical companies and the government just sit back and suck them dry as their conditions only worsen. I saw the deadly trap in 1981 when I had the complete breakdown that nearly took my life. I wasn't so far out of it that the doctors efforts to avoid diagnostic tests or even a decent patient interview weren't obvious signs of fraud. For the next five years it was a second by second unbearable torture and mental anguish so intense that nobody could comprehend what I went through. I had to hide my desperation and ward people attempting to force treatment for a variety of mental disorders on me. Even after I recovered enough to function after five years and found a job, it was still like living on the edge of Hell while trying to hide a secret that exposed me to further medical fraud, risk of job less and harm from those who sensed my vulnerability.

In most cases like mine it was obvious that patients are heavily pressured to believe they are suffering from mental disorders and must take drugs that actually create symptoms of those mental disorders. For those brainwashed enough to think they are being helped, the reality is that these drugs will provide short term relief but in the long term serious health conditions worsen and victims are progressively less able to resist the inevitable descent into Hell. Not only doctors, but family and community are quick to push them back. Diagnosing victims as mentally ill is just as effective as it always was in further discrediting and handicapping them socially and legally. In my own experience in the 80s, dying, last ditch efforts to explain that the drugs were causing me serious harm were brushed aside and then more forced on me. Had I not quit soon, I would have certainly died. This is not medical treatment, but a criminal enterprise far worse than child sex trafficking. The long term consequences of quitting these drugs is so horrible that for most there is no quitting. The original diagnosis likely cost them their jobs, as it did mine, so victims are psychologically, physically and financially unable to fight back. For many years I had to avoid doctors for any reason in fear of being again coerced into psychoactive drugs. Linda Comac gives more personal testimony about being a victim of the American mental health racket: https://www.madinamerica.com/2020/06/year-i-lost-everything-psychiatry-offered-nothing/

Would you like to be forced into a private chemical and social prison while deliberately deprived of proper medical attention for a crippling disease potentially ending in a horrible death? Would you like to be fired under the table and behind your back on the basis of such a false allegation? Lose your home and children? Listen to me carefully so you can avoid such a fate. Steer clear of the bastards if you can. Large amounts of B vitamins and vigorous exercise have kept my own Lyme disease at bay now for thirty five years. Try bentonite and other supplements that might be helpful. You can't afford not to. From time to time, try antibiotics known to help Lyme disease sufferers. Choose a higher dose, but be very careful and stop if you get seriously ill. Most antibiotics probably won't do a thing, but the right one could set the disease back a long ways. The battle may never be  over, but you can stay on top if you try. 

Maybe my own Lyme infection is finally dead after seven weeks of risky doses. Maybe only a lot of debris remains to taunt me, but that's hard to believe. This antibiotic finally made me seriously ill after seven weeks and only one pill a month later left me barfing from 8PM to 4AM, so the ten day supply I bought is useless and no idea when it might stop being super dangerous. The spirochete will likely hide in spores and wait for the smoke to clear. It's good news that the Lyme colony has been dealt a heavy blow, but how long before it comes back with a vengeance? 

While the cause of my own tragic disease has been finally nailed, I'll be ever more distraught over the possibility my three children's lives were also destroyed. At least I was fine until age sixteen, but they were badly damaged at birth. For decades after, time and again, no questions were allowed about what might be the cause of these tragedies. Something really, really stinks. It stinks bad. After adding up all I know about them, I strongly suspect they were born with a serious infectious disease. Nor is there any question that this disease set them up for a heavy hit from vaccinations. In case you were wondering, this hasn't a damn thing to do with conspiracy theory. After each MMR each of them went profoundly autistic, though only one was so diagnosed. Oddly, enough my training in statistical research told me that the combined vaccination record of all three children could give a scientific, quantitative probability that the vaccinations were the cause of abrupt, permanent, life destroying symptoms. It is certainly what scientists would call significant, even highly significant. That tell me that it isn't conspiracy nuts who are out of it, but the government and medical industry that have been lying to us. I first ran the math five or six years ago and that was before I found out that the MMR was given to children at Poplar high school as a Gates tax deductible charity program. Parents were not informed, the vaccinations were unannounced without giving an option to refuse and the shots were also not recorded on the record. I only found out recently that this was not an accident. The abrupt turning point that thoroughly ruined them happened within days following those shots. I knew about the younger one and immediately marveled out loud that my eight year old was suddenly no longer toilet trained. I knew it was the vaccinations at the time, but didn't find out that they all got it at the same time. The younger one is now the least affected and only one able to keep a job.  

The media has been successful in brainwashing the public to think that the link between autism and vaccines is "unscientific conspiracy theory," yet I happen to be qualified scientist with a strong academic record who can scientifically prove that the MMR destroyed the lives of three of my children. That they weren't each screened for an underlying condition before the shot is equivalent to no less than manslaughter. Is it well known that Lyme disease can be congenital. I'm reluctant to say their problems are due to Lyme, but if it could happen to me, it could happen to anybody. What used to be suspicious is converging towards a singularity. Now that my own case is solved, how can my children be helped? First, please take a hard look at this site: https://www.lymedisease.org/lyme-basics/lyme-disease/children/. First, please carefully examine the symptoms of childhood Lyme. What you see on the list is all the symptoms displayed by one or more children since birth, with each having most if not all of them. For argument, assign these symptoms a severity of five at birth on a scale of ten (clearly something is damned wrong). Now, give them a severity of ten point zero. That's what happened to all three of my children at the same time weeks following this unannounced MMR shot and their lives have gone to Hell ever since. Yeah, I know what I'm talking about and it could happen to you or your children. I must VERY strongly warn you, however, that the tests promoted on that page are well known by qualified insiders to catch only 10% of Lyme disease cases. 

I also watched Quackwatch for years and know them well as a pack of legal sluts for the medical lobbies. Quackwatch is a group of paid attorneys who work hard to discredit and harm those who are want to telling patients the truth. As a person who is well educated in both academics and life experience, I know who's lying and who isn't. Quackwatch is determined to drive the best doctors out of business. It is nothing better than an assassin for organized crime. If you were wondering how Ponder the fact that stepping away from the party line means becoming a target. Doctors become targets of malicious suits and at risk of losing their licenses to practice even though they may be doing the most help for people. I sure wish I'd been warned about amalgams before the mercury nearly drove me to murder the district's favorite pedophile. But many doctors have been driven out of business for just that. How do you repay hundreds of thousands in loans for medical school? Lymescience.org is the same wolf in sheep's clothes designed to protect the real quacks in power. Remember it was the CDC who deliberately joined Yale University and Mayo Clinic in marketing a bogus vaccine that severely injured thousands. Caught red handed. Please note the section on this page https://lymescience.org/lyme-disease-tests-science/, LymeScience recommends against: DIAGNOSIS WITH MICROSCOPY. In other words, the CDC rejects crisp electron micrographs that distinctly show Borrelia burgdorferi spirochetes?  And I'm bipolar! Even with all the symptoms of Lyme disease, the CDC rejects out of hand the presence of Lyme bacteria as proof of Lyme disease. That tells you and me that the recommended tests for Lyme disease are rigged as charged. They will reveal only 10% of real cases just as when these big boys were caught red handed making fraudulent claims about the vaccine based on data obtained after the test for Lyme was so rigged. This is not conspiracy theory but well established fact. 

Now, PLEASE, ponder that list of symptoms again. Are these NOT the same major symptoms I've described having had for 56 years? How many do you see listed for bipolar disorder or schizophrenia? Hells bells, there's no need anyway based on symptoms and presence of red material where I was bitten by a tick. Nobody should argue with that. Nor are the red circles around the wens when last removed not smelling of Lyme. I most definitely have had Lyme since 1964 as the result of two tick bites at Toston, Montana. So, the experts insist that isn't possible. No, the correct answer is that the experts are lying to us. And my three children who went south following MMR vaccinations? Could it also be that all three of my children were born with Lyme? Could it be? Could it not be? It's not supposed to be possible for it to be from me... Well, son of a gun, their mamma had serious problems of the same nature from about the age of five. Could she  have gotten Lyme in Montana and passed it to the children? They are lying about it not being possible to get Lyme in Montana, I'm proof of that. If the children symptoms are just like Lyme, then why not test them? Oh, that's right, the test is rigged! Why not test them for something? No need for that! 

I tried many antibiotics recommended for treatment of Lyme. I even took five of the strongest at the largest recommended dosages all at once for ten weeks. None had any effect except star anise extract. I started to forget my conviction about Lyme by 2020 when complaining to the state of Montana about the beatings and other conditions in Montana schools. I suppose I deliberately set it aside so I could take an unobstructed shot at Montana for giving waivers on statutes of limitations on child sexual abuse but turning their backs on victims of beatings intended to leave them dead. But I'd also failed to recover from my declaration of Lyme without actual physical proof. I'd only gotten worse over the last five years and was no longer able to sleep past two or three AM. That all made me think, there could still be an antibiotic out there that could work. That's how I got on to amoxycillin clavulanate and bang. 

Never had I yet connected the red filaments threading through balls of fat in the two wens on my head to the disease until after starting the antibiotic. When the cyst began to shrink it's natural composition and boundaries could be far more distinctively felt. It finally hit me that there can be no other possibility than that the wens are minor colonies of bacteria from tick bites fifty six years ago. There can be no possibility that the red mass inside the fat is bacteria. You sure couldn't believe it's anything else. Cadmium leaking out of tooth fillings? Bacteria can come in all forms and colors, but the only one known to match up with these symptoms is the Borrelia species that causes LYME DISEASE!  

Thailand would have no test for Lyme and I would never trust results of an American test. I knew for a fact that the customary test had been rigged to test negative for 90% of those affected with Lyme. I heard this from insiders who were clearly telling the truth. Nowadays, I'm not so sure, because if the figure of 400,000 new cases that I recently heard is official, then the test must be okay now. So, maybe we can get a reliable test now even though nobody ever thought to suggest one. Just maybe, the gov is letting the cat out of the bag slow like so the public won't catches on too soon about the damage caused by Lyme and the medical fraud behind it. If they ever do, half of Congress might be lynched, and that would be just the start. 

Fortunately, about the time I was gaining strength by 1986, I was blessed to finally find a real job. I enjoyed popularity there after saving the community a great deal of money. My academic record was also impressive. I deeply regret having been forced to abandon my American Indian family, but social complications resulting mostly from the disease made the disease itself too difficult to handle, and since my wife and children were truly in danger, I really had no choice. Indian people loved me, took care of me, and gave me purpose. I still regard myself as Lakota Sioux, but was also adopted ceremoniously by the Assiniboine. My heart is broken still over twenty years later. If only I'd gotten a fix on what was wrong with any of us, I could have stuck it out. We had to run again as in 1981 and again without any idea where we might go. I was born in Missoula and knew we were safe there, but only for a while. I knew there was no decent employment there, but there were more important priorities with all of us suffering so much.  The two jobs I had were so bad a guy has to either laugh or cry.

By a quirk of fortune, just before I bailed out of Poplar in 1998 I finally got a decent MRI in Williston that showed the worst of the disease even without showing the most of it. I had to sucker the doctor by suggesting I had an alien implant. The doctor then refused to submit it to insurance and refused to discuss the results. Instead, he gave me series of demeaning psyche exams to plant symptoms of bipolar disorder in my head. I knew the game he was screwing with me, but didn't want to roil the game by demanding to see the MRI results. I waited until he'd moved on about four years later and paid the $900 fee out of my own $12,000 a year salary. Finally, there it was, the nightmarish, ghoulish mass of grotesquely swollen tissue filling the maxillary sinuses that had been killing me for thirty years but no doctor would go there. If you're a doctor, tell me why, but then don't, because your daddy is a liar. The diagnosis of "sinusitis" betrays no hint of a cause, nor is it a diagnosis. Mine was a case that should have raised major flags and demanded intense scrutiny, not hidden away. It wasn't for another twenty years that I was able to break the mass  down enough to clearly sense it was made of variously hardened, extremely tough, elastic fat, certainly not the "soft" tissue described by the MRI doctor. What I wrongly believed then was that the diseased tissue in the sinuses was somewhat limited to the sinuses and yet responsible for severe trauma to the whole body.  Recently, though, it's very apparent that the disease itself is rooted throughout the body in layers of fat drawn from host cells. When I had the second of two breakdowns it felt as if a half dozen brutish men on either side were crushing my legs with vicious blows from sixteen pound mauls. I was in so much physical shock followed by loss of my career and home that I couldn't begin to ponder much on what had happened. I only knew that the medical profession would be the final nail in my coffin if I got too close.

The next step after the 1998 MRI was Mayo Clinic. I thought maybe my perception of doctors was heavily biased. I should give them one last chance to prove or disprove what looked to me something like secret harvesting of body parts. Perhaps Montana was just too backwoods, but Mayo clinic, the Mecca of civilized medicine, could do it all right just as you hear all the time in the news. Going by their rep, Mayo should be able to do quality MRI's and explain exactly what was at the root of it. Well, we settled that, didn't we? I smelled something fishy when the lady was preparing to stuff me into the big tube, trying to get me excited by jiggling my arm against her waist. Sorry, not expecting she was gearing for a hand job until it was too late. That's Lyme for ya. No surprise that a measly nine images carefully aimed outside the area I had described with diagrams for the doctors. Then followed two earnest, one-sided chats with a "neurologist" promoting the joys of modern drugs for schizophrenia. Oh, God, what bullshit! Worship they get? It's not right to paint them all with same brush, but in my case every one I met for sixty years was a lying, cheating, heartless fraud. 

Where are we now about three weeks after stopping the antibiotic? Residual toxins are still leaking into my mouth, the cyst is still shrinking and the numb, tingly feelings in the legs and feet and face are still strongly associated with the sensation of a fatty material. The lips are very dense with fat pulled from surrounding areas in the face. Gooey stuff is still crammed in the gums and cheeks, but no longer accumulates during the night around the gums.  

Note in the Williston MRI image that there are two halves or the colony or separate, symmetrical colonies, left and right. For weeks I was been able to feel the sharp end of a steel hard fiber embedded in the fat at the center of mass of the cyst, but this has slowly faded. In grade eleven in Mr. Milledge's chemistry class in Townsend, I jammed a broken thistle tube into my thumb and a sizable piece was left inside after it healed. Years later it was still bugging me in army AIT. I kept hitting my thumb with my rifle butt for a week or two until the flesh swelled up and the glass popped right out. The cyst formed by Lyme disease is like that, except millions of strands permeate your flesh everywhere, yet bound together by fatty bio film they are impossible to reach. A weakness lies in that the attacking the major disease structure in the sinuses gradually softens the entire structure. 

Meanwhile, since tests jiggered by the CDC make it impossible to reliably test for Lyme disease, the only hope I have to prove to the world's satisfaction that I've had Lyme disease all along would be electron micrographs of the red material in the center of the wens that the doctor and I closely studied in 2008. That isn't any longer necessary for me because I now know for a fact that the wens are part of the cyst and that the red material cannot be anything other than bacteria, that the color and appearance matches a Borrelia colony, and that combined with the symptoms leaves no other possibility. All of this simply confirms beyond question that my original conclusion based on medical fraud pointed only to Lyme disease. Anyway, as we have already seen, the CDC has already refuted microphotographs of red spirochetes in the center of tick bites surrounded by red circles as being evidence of Lyme disease even in a person with all the symptoms of Lyme disease. Going by the web site, the only proof of Lyme disease is the CDC recommended Western blot tests proved to have been rigged and even then they state clearly that many are false positives. If I went back to the states and tried to make a case, it would turn out the same, either bipolar disorder or schizophrenia.  

About the time I zeroed in on Lyme, about 2013, there were roughly 30,000 cases diagnosed each year, and since there had to be more like ten times that, it is reasonable to assume at least 300,000 cases a year went improperly diagnosed, untreated and instead panned out as schizoids, bipolar disorders, personality disorders, multiple sclerosis, autism, Alzheimer's and other dread diseases mainstream "science" pretends to unable to find a cause for. Only a paranoid schizophrenic would think I was singled out to be one, so there can be no other conclusion than that there are millions like myself deliberately sentenced to a slow death in exchange for recurring commissions on drugs. America has not eliminated infectious disease as claimed, but instead has harvested the epidemic to reap trillions from psychiatric drugs. Are you one of me? Do you know one like me?

Besides physical and financial ruin, how has being a victim of the medical brotherhood affected me psychologically? Imagine an underdeveloped seven year old kid awoken by creaking floorboards to see a familiar, swarthy figure inching towards his bed? Just at the last second the kid realizes he's going to be snatched, but is too paralyzed with terror to move. Knowing instinctively that torture and death are imminent, he manages to jump up and start screaming. After my parents check the house, they forget all about me. Nobody for a second believes me, but the next time he comes I'm a goner. For weeks I get no sleep kneeling on cold, hardwood floors in terror until my knees are raw. This is the maximum terror one can experience and live while visualizing Crazy Ike's toothless grin as he carves out my genitals and entrails. Crazy Ike was my dad's coworker. He was frequently at social gatherings at our house or my dad's railroad bungalow. Nobody seemed to notice how he would sneak up in a flash and pinch my butt so hard I'd nearly jump out of my skin. He was not teasing a kid, but was a real pervert with harm on his mind. That's what the medical brotherhood means to me. They have responded by my symptoms as only frauds would do, sentencing me to a lifetime of torture and left me knowing an unnamed disease could strike me down at any time. If that wasn't enough, they destroyed my career and community prestige with psychiatric fraud. Then Obamacare steps in, forcing us to pay for digging out own graves with forced medical care.

Now that the center of the sinus cyst is clearly extremely tough elastic congealed from body fat, the extent of if is distinctly felt. There is a junction above the lip connected to the mass in lower maxillary sinuses to form the ugly mass of hardened fat seen plainly in the 1998 MRI. Another branch extends downward where it is felt distinctly in the legs and feet but from time to time can be sensed everywhere in the body where it is rooted into muscle tissue, but also responsible for toxin accumulating in and around the kidneys where for several years it caused numerous kidney cysts, kidney stones, crippling sciatic nerve pain and disintegration of lower spinal disks. While the worst of those symptoms were eventually overcome, there is plenty of reason to fear that the same or worse could still occur. At the time these symptoms hit hard I was clueless about what caused them, and no doctors offered any ideas. Now I know they were all caused by this singular coherent structure that had spread throughout body tissues. Grotesque, bizarre? You pompous little bipolar peddling medical bastards. The size of the left side of the cyst is about a third that on the right and the symptoms less harsh. At nights the sinuses would give off the taste of rotting flesh and impending death. The distinct feeling of fibrous material at the center of the disease in the sinuses is a definitive match to the red material in the wens, though I hadn't made stumbled on that fact before the antibiotic began breaking the fatty material down. 

The last few weeks taking the new antibiotic I was 100% convinced of being victorious. I felt it in my bones except during the night. My confidence and peace of mind are back. The promise of God was good. My attitude is that the victory is inevitable despite the ocean of disease debris still lodged in my body. Even if I'm wrong, every worthwhile victory is preceded by a series of mistakes. Maybe victory doesn't lie in fully overcoming the disease, but just in knowing exactly what it is and that there are ways to beat it. Now I can dance on the graves of my enemies, most of them long ago dead from alcoholism and nicotine, anyway.

The most important goal is to kill the parasite, to Hell with the government and medical MF's, even though these are far worse parasites. In a few days I will realize that the wens on my head were the source of the infection and recall the tick I yanked out of my scalp shortly before the wens appeared. Since the bacteria inside are still living there, hopefully electron microscope images will reveal them to be the Lyme spirochete. Microscopic images are the only hope of proof, but I suspect I'll be unable to get what I want. If a pathology report shows red colored Lyme spirochetes as it will if done properly, then the case is closed. Oops, I didn't know yet that the CDC has disqualified micrographs of Lyme bacteria under the skin near the site of a tick byte as proof of Lyme disease. Why doesn't the claim that NASA's photographs of Mars are evidence that they are actually Mars? You tell me.

Exercise, the most important vitamin. At least twenty of the last thirty years I was a gym rat. If I hadn't been, Lyme disease would have never let me keep a job long enough to save enough money to escape Montana. On arriving in Thailand in 2005, I was among the first players who started Chiang Mai Ultimate. I was in really bad shape at the time, kicking out kidney stones and my concentration so jammed it was hard trying to stay connected. I knew vigorous aerobic exercise was better than the gym for kicking down the disease, but it was hard to do by yourself. Three years later, even though past sixty and stiff from Borrelia, I was still holding my own against players a third my age. You can't beat either Lyme disease or age, though, so after four years I was finished after being sidelined plantar fasciitis. Chiang Mai Ultimate Frisbee grew quickly into a semi professional league with forty or more athletes from all over the world. I would be crushed. But it is the very best exercise for recovering from disabling symptoms of Lyme disease. I also started out with $1,000 worth of B vitamins and other supplements. Ultimate left me feeling and looking fifteen years younger and the blessings will stick with you for the rest of your life. Learn from me... The bentonite works, too, but I often forget to take it. It does absorb the thick, gooey layer of fatty material that accumulated during the night for years. That gets rid of cyst material and helps release toxins that bind the fat.  I knew one day I'd discover a reason for majoring in soil science aside from the toughest math and science curriculum at MSU. 

The weasel is one the run now. If you give up too soon, he'll adjust his DNA to outmaneuver your strategy. I do feel like a ten year old kid again. It's like getting out of a deep, dark prison after 64 years. The mystery that threatened to kill me has been fully resolved. And should it come back?  I didn't get the crap beat out of me every time in grade school. The last time Culver cornered me I was putting in a good show before the principal pulled me off. On the bus, there were six tormenting me all the time, three pairs of brothers; the Manleys, Parks, and two native Indians. All six tormented me continually to school and back. With Randy Weaver encouraging them, they all decided on a certain Friday, the Manleys would team up to kill me when we got off at Bearmouth. One was twice my size  and the other, younger, but smart and tough as nails. He later became a heavyweight wrestling champ in the Rocky Mountain Division for some years and a real smart ass. After Randy Weaver's home run to my face failed to end my life, he became focused on putting the Manley's up to finishing the job, and that really was what they intended to do. I figured no way I could match them so resigned myself to death. The taunting about my impending death increased until my last Friday arrived. I just figured, what the Hell, tired of this, why not die. Sometimes giving up can help you win.  

So, we got off the bus that fateful day in five inches of snow. I squared off against the two of them. They both rushed me, but I ducked and landed a few good hits on the big boy. That scared him and off he ran, leaving his brother behind while he was on top of me preparing to whale away. They really had me because I'd slipped and fell on my back in the snow. But when little brother saw big brother hitailin it over the tracks, he hollered, CLIFFORD!! When Clifford didn't stop, he panicked, got up and started to run after his brother, I grabbed his ankle and tripped him in the snow. Then I got on top and started swinging. I never had a mean bone and didn't want to hurt the kid, but they fully intended to leave me dead, so I wanted to deter them from trying it again. I made sure his face was bruised and swollen enough to leave a clear message. The next day his dad came over to my dad and said, hey, you really should come look and see what your kid did to my kid's face. So, I did fight back a couple of times, but I was never the bully some accused me of being. Anyway, now I'm going to teach Lyme disease a lesson. Ya hear? Five, four, three, two one... Cassius Clay, here I come.

The first and firmest proof of Lyme disease was having had doctors universally refuse to discuss my sinuses or symptoms for decades with most of them chasing me around with this bipolar bullshit. The symptoms best match Lyme disease and only that can explain such greed and such fear and the refusal of state authorities to police the system as they were chartered to do. No matter how strongly the government denies that Lyme disease has ever been found in Montana, how odd it be that the system is somehow fixed to ignore it? Yeah, that might sound like conspiracy theory, but it's no theory. This is what I went through for decades before leaving that shit hole. The only reason I would want to take a Lyme test recommended by the CDC is out of curiosity, not that the results mean anything at all or were intended to mean anything. Don't forget Kris Kristofferson who was diagnosed with Alzheimer's for many years until it was discovered that his symptoms were actually caused by Lyme disease. I've been there many times myself when I couldn't remember anything. Kris recovered using an exotic therapy to stimulate his brain which was assumed to be infected. Those methods are not available for me, but I've done damn well these last forty years keeping the disease under good control. It's hard to believe the spirochetes have missed my brain, but there's a line they can't cross. Click for Kris Kristofferson article. 

Saturday, 18 July 2020. The battle rages on, about 150 gram doses so far. There is still an extremely hard knot about the size of a marble about 2:00 in the front right maxillary sinus. The corresponding knot on the left is much smaller. The sinus overgrowth covers a dense colony of red spirochetes that cause severe burning in the head and muscle twitches and tingles in the legs and feet. At its worst, there isn't a more painful way to die. The growth has no distinct boundary. It's a gradual extension throughout the body attacking muscles and sometimes organs. The cyst is a single, continuous colony, not just a mix of random germs and shapeless gunk. Pulling or biting at the worst of it in the sinuses and lips produces tension everywhere. There can't be any doubt that the bacteria have taken up residence everywhere and that they have formed wire like red fibers surrounded by hardened fat. We know this because of what was observed in the wens. The wens are extremely hardened, creamy white fat surrounding the same bacterial structure because it is the same structure. These are the tick bites, stupid. The acidic toxins secreted by the bacteria are a powerful magnet for interstitial fats. The result is a meandering colony which invades the whole body within a few years of infection. Of interest is the fact that an anchoring structure in the gut does cause disease from filamentous bacteria. Of more interest is that the coarse, colored fibers of Morgellons are also due to the same Borrelia that causes Lyme. The fibers are not made by bacteria, but by host cells reacting to Lyme toxins. This can't be coincidence. The fibers in my face weren't delusions, and the red filaments in the wens matching the color of Lyme Borrelia are what I've been feeling since 1981, but they have been there since 1964.

As much as every doctor has dismissed my symptoms as being foolish notions or imaginations, they are accurate descriptions made by a well educated mind. Perhaps this is why I worked so hard and preserved proof of outstanding academic achievement, mathematical proficiency, sound mind, exceptional insight and ability to use near flawless logic to transform insights into mathematical proof. I over worked in school to make up for financial hardship, fourteen hour days minimum. All my assignments were done early and I was prepared for anything on exams. The B in physical chemistry was fair, though the teacher, head of the chemistry department at the time, was extra tough and nobody was making it. I made Dr. Caughlin tutor me daily until I had it nailed and left the rest behind. The second term in the same class I scored 100% flat on everything. Of course, this was also when I was also impaired by Lyme disease and living in terror. Being required to maintain a punishing regimen physically and mentally might have eventually saved me. I had to abandon the PhD because the $175/mo GI Bill ran out and there was nobody willing to help. After spending the next winter trapped indoors at the SCS job in Ft. Benton, my condition worsened, kidney cysts returned from 1977, and I collapsed entirely. It was ten times worse than the breakdown in 1969. 

1957 was the summer I discovered fishing at age eight. The first time I tossed a hopper on a hook into Antelope Creek it was instantly snatched by a native cutthroat. That was in the farthermost of three large tunnels barely enough to handle spring runoff, but only one held running water later. The former Northern Pacific train tracks still run over these tunnels I think https://satellites.pro/USA_map#46.704601,-113.334717,19. After the June runoff, the creek disappeared into the sand before reaching the Clark Fork, so hundreds of prize fish were trapped upstream waiting for me to catch them. Many of these were cutthroats, very pretty and tasty but rarely more than ten or eleven inches. There were enough browns up to five or pounds or more to challenge me all summer. We also had three deep, warm ponds from the old riverbed stocked with tasty bass back then but ruined by planted perch long ago. Look carefully where Antelope creek was diverted under the interstate when it was built in the 70s. Fish are no longer able to swim up from the river, the creek is all taken for irrigation, so it's been a desert ever since. 

Later that first summer, I was farther up Antelope creek where there was a long, straight section of quiet water with a deep, dark hole at the end beneath a tree stump. I imagined that this was the lair of a huge brown. Certainly, if such a beast existed, that's where he'd be hiding. I fancied that if I went upstream about thirty feet and tossed a hopper into the clear water that he'd be hungry enough to venture out. That was one of those rare beginner luck instincts that God probably got a good laugh helping work out. I was shocked to see the water in the hole churn violently, then a huge brown emerge followed by a big wake as he swam lazily towards the bait. Unfortunately, I was an eight year old, dirty runt with a cheap toy for fishing gear against a fish that would have worn probably taken the best fishermen for a nasty ride. When he grabbed the hopper, I jumped out of hiding and tried to pull him out of the water. His nose didn't even break the surface before the line snapped. I upgraded my gear after that and spent the next three years trying to find him, but never did. He must have escaped during the following year's runoff. Never mind, I caught thousands of fish in Antelope and Harvey creeks and in other nearby creeks and bass ponds. Many were beauts that left memories I still cherish. A rainbow trout was likely to explode, hit the end of your line and shoot six feet into the air, but they tired out easily after that. A big ole brown, if it just didn't drag all your line out, would battle you for hours, rolling over and over until the line broke or finding a twig or root to wrap it around. These were the best eating. I'd always baste them good in butter and bake them in tin foil. I an asocial country rat and magnet for ticks, but continuous adventures and the best fishing in Montana was true paradise for a beaten down little kid.

Conclusions

There can be little doubt that you or someone you know has been an unwitting victim of the same fraud by the medical brotherhood. Knowing how this can happen could easily save your life or that of someone special to you. Or it could save your career, all your assets, your family, leave you homeless or dependent on disability checks that require you to be treated like a mental patient. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life broke, crazy and drugged half out of your mind, pay close attention. READ or DOWNLOAD my book, Lyme Like Me at https://foosresearch.com. Hopefully, your eyes will be opened. To that end, I don't want any monetary return, but earnestly request that you make a $1 donation (or more) to Fort Peck Community College (Indian) in Poplar, Montana. That way I can assess how many readers I've helped and you can Make America Good. Nobody has been more oppressed and humiliated to this very day than the American Indian. The Assiniboine and Sioux Fort Peck Community College can make good use to help employ people who really need it. 

I don't want to release this as an eBook because the formatting rules are difficult to adhere to. Also, I don't want to bother much with the places and references to images, so those will be their own separate chapter or web page. You can download pages separately in PDF format if you have no interest in the others. Not trying to profit from the story should reassure you that my motives are pure and the claims made are true and relevant to everyone. This is no conspiracy theory, this is the true heart of American medicine laid bare. 

  
The refusal to acknowledge and seek the underlying cause of my symptoms wasn't just the pinnacle of professional misconduct, but the equivalent of murder. There just isn't any other way to see it. It's not only the doctors who are guilty, but all American medical institutions and government agencies who have abdicated their sacred obligation to protect the public. The willful negligence routinely used to misdiagnose infectious disease as a mental disorder is the most vicious fraud ever contrived. The entire western population is a target. I must thank Thailand for saving my life in so many ways. Here I've had the freedom to search for effective drugs that would be barred in the United States. There I'd be charged outrageous fees for doctor visits and then turned down for any drugs that might actually affect the real disease. It took fifteen years, but in Thailand I found the right antibiotic. The doctors here are great and I've conquered a series of other nasty health issues on the road to here.  

As an undergrad I read a book, A Mind That Found Itself by Clifford Beers. Beers described the horrors of 19th century psychiatry that he experienced in mental institutions. I highly recommend reading both that and Mad In America by Robert Whitaker. The mental health service became far more civilized as a result of Beers' book; however, harsh physical restraints and torture have simply been replaced by more subtle evils. Lobotomies are now done with drugs. There are real conditions such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder, but most so diagnosed have no such symptoms, I am living proof of that. After leaving Montana I was still in bad shape and clueless, so I visited a shop in Bellingham where a "Christian" couple had hung out a shingle for counseling. I could barely hold my head up. The lady I was spilling my beans to started talking in a deeply sympathetic manner as if I were a five year old, saying that I'd come to the right place to cure schizophrenia. That made me nervous so I said I'd go home and check back later. She told me that there would be no leaving. Behold, when I got up to leave, her giant of a husband suddenly stood in the doorway blocking my path. America's helping professions are thick with parasites. Don't ever believe the media when it says trust your doctor. You'd have a better chance with Jeffrey Dahmer.  

Been too sick to write. Bacterial waste is pouring out of me. Diseased garbage is crammed from head to toe. But why do I feel better this morning? Gagged down a heaping tablespoon of bentonite last night, and, lo, no more nausea. Started three soft boiled eggs every evening after a brisk three kilometer walk. That's five eggs a day. These aren't USA eggs which I could never eat every day because the gag reflex comes on. God knows what awful stuff they're being fed. These jumbo Thai eggs I could easily eat a dozen every day and relish every bite. Don't let these giants of medical science convince you that millions of years of evolution produced eggs that cause you to die of heart disease. Incomprehensible that people buy into such crap, but most do. How many dupes with high cholesterol were persuaded to take statins, not ever being told that the brain is mostly cholesterol? Soon, their patients can no longer tell the toilet from the living room carpet, the kids are whispering about Alzheimer's, and the doctors are making trips to the bank. I've eaten more than an average three eggs a day for the last fifteen years. That's over 16,000 eggs and my cholesterol hasn't budged. 

How much suffering does Lyme disease cause? For three months in 1969 I either thrashed in bed or ran all night up and down local roads, forget about school. A week into the more severe breakdown in 1980 I could not have believed it possible for any human being to live through such torture. Then to be ridiculed and refused any medical help are crimes on top of crimes. To have lost career and education I risked death in Vietnam to pay for, to be mocked as I lay dying on the floor with soon to be orphans jumping back and forth over me... don't think about it. 

Even after my short tour of Heaven, every second was still torture with millions more to face for years to come. You either learn to fake it or die.  The doctors who turned their backs on me are no worse a criminal than any; rapist, serial killer, mass murderer. Yes, doctors are at times necessary and sometimes do perform life saving deeds. But millions of others are being farmed to death. There is no justice in the American system, no hope of genuine medical treatment for many because a powerful propaganda machine has ensured you are kept stupid. I've given you a way out. Forewarned is forearmed. It's your responsibility to promote this story to your friends, assuming you find me credible. If you've been helped, donate $1 (or more) to Fort Peck Community College in Poplar, Montana. They will have a better use for it than I. In the description please write in Foos Research. That tells us how many people have learned how to protect themselves.

If you're convinced but as sick of reading this as I am writing it, just stop here, but I'm getting to the part where the wens were removed for examination by an electron microscope, or so I was led to believe. Thailand is Heaven compared to Montana. Had my brakes overhauled here a few weeks ago for $30. Ten years ago it cost me eight bucks for my jeep. Just before I left Montana I paid Scott's Muffler in Missoula $900 for only three wheels. I knew Scott's was screwing me to the hilt but couldn't find anybody else and couldn't risk having an accident. So I caved to the blackmail but swore I'd never go back to Missoula. It might look like a laid back college town nestled in rolling mountains, but it's Hotel California after you check in. That's where I was born, so the curse runs deep into the DNA. After being paid squat for five years and getting harassed by pedophiles in the school, I went to being coerced by snot nosed punks peddling crack at Research Data Design. Montana... wide open spaces filled with tiny little human outposts filled with alcohol, drugs, child molesters, depression and Lyme disease...  Thank you for a good life in Thailand. I've got hundreds of friends, the food is delicious, the weather never too cold, and every day brings a new blessing. 

The disease mass is still heavy in the lips and back into the maxillary sinus. After softening from the antibiotic, I can distinctly feel one solid mass wrapping around the face from both sides, around the temples, and extending into the feet, mostly the right foot.  That's why the disease nearly killed me in the 80s. Muscles and nerves were overcome with Lyme toxins capable of causing death. Forty years later it is concentrated in the lips due to the flow of toxins and debris. For over twenty years I'm squeezing facial muscles to break it down. Sometimes gets very packed and hardened and other times exudes toxins that cause intense burning sensations. These can be felt simultaneously in the feet and other areas because that's how extensive the disease is. When most severe and painful there is the familiar sour taste flowing into the mouth. The toxin causes underlying muscles to contract spasmodically; hence, constant twitching and clutching throughout the body first noticed in 1964 when the wens appeared. In 1980 the toxins were so strong that the causes sensations of my body being crushed and ripped apart by an unearthly, savage power. I visualized with surreal intensity men lined on either side crushing my bones with savage hammer blows. By the end of the next year I was looking forward to the end of  a slow, agonizing death. When it finally came, I had a profound near death experience followed by the letdown of coming back. The agony diminished gradually over the next few, then handfuls of B vitamins boosted me back.  I could start packing a lunch again. For five years, we had almost no income. I hid from doctors and government offices and made no friends. Even after 1986 I continued to struggle with concentration, short term memory and intense burning sensations in my sinuses until recently. I should have been on disability from 1980 on but didn't dare expose myself to any doctors. 

Star anise must have potent anti microbial properties. The effect proved 100% it was Lyme disease. I was on to something, a ray of light promised a way out. Toxins were leaking through my lips and the cyst material was breaking down. Sadly, the symptoms only got worse over the next five years and I gave up the effort. I tried to rush it by taking large doses of the strongest OTC antibiotics but without effect, so the meaning of Lyme or not Lyme faded away. Star anise had been working slowly, but it isn't a thrill crushing and sipping it for years on end. Now amoxycillin clavulanate has given me new hope. I'm sure the wens have also diminished in hardness and size and now I'm concerned that the red bacteria inside will have died by the time I'm able to get a good micrographs. It seems important to identify the bug, but I very much doubt a hospital would honor the request. If only I'd had the doctor at McCormick pursue that in 2008. In Thailand there is at least hope, but it's still a bureaucracy where patients are put through the same assembly line every time. 

Seven weeks of the new antibiotic may be all I can take. Since five this morning I'm feeling quite a lot better after swallowing a heaping tablespoon of Bentonite and double dose of vitamin B. Quitting too soon could hasten a resurgence as well as a resistant form of the pathogen. This may be the only shot at killing the beast.  So, here goes, but I'm still queasy.  I also took four grams of silymarin which restores liver health. the usual zinc picolinate and several grams of magnesium citrate. It's one o'clock now and I'm feeling great, standing on the crest of victory. The colony is breaking up and the bacteria is on retreat. I remember the population dynamics experiments I did in the sixties with simple organisms like protozoa, planaria and water bears. Every successive species will explode until it's consumed all available resources and then suddenly disappear. Let that be my Lyme disease. I'm declaring victory. Yet, after our walk I was hit with another wave of nausea. A sudden surge of microbial sewage began pouring in from the lips. I downed two tablespoons of bentonite then three six minute eggs which really helped. I couldn't fight the urge to sleep and delay the volley of violent spasms caused by the disease that convulse my head whenever I'm dozing off. So, it's after nine now. I'll need to shut down this puter and hug the bed. I'm nervous about taking the next gram of antibiotic about midnight...

Please, Mr. MD, don't lock me up, please. Save me with your magic drugs. One of the little pricks, a Missoula midget name of Swellrod (nsic), actually threatened to lock me up if I didn't take his pills. I went along with the gag for a few months, mesmerized by his bizarre, plaid suits while flushing his pills down the toilet. His last reports showed my condition had improved markedly, my patient's grandiosity nearly gone. That was about all I could take watching him glare at me under massive eyebrows popping up and down. This could be my Mission Impossible, my Incredible Journey, my personal Armageddon. Or it could just be another blip on the road to death by Lyme.  

Which made me think about my Sabah snake grass, Clinicanthus nutans, garden. This herb has a rep for shrinking cancers, particularly lymphoma. Thankfully, I don't have lymphoma, but the Lyme has created a tumor of sorts, so I grabbed a handful of young leaves and will see if it helps shrink this nasty mess left by the Borrelia. There are warnings about snake grass, but nothing concrete. Might as well try it for a awhile. Did I mention the VA the year I left the land of the free? Thought I'd see what they had to offer before bailing out of the home of the brave. The doctor was a red headed woman, maybe 40, with a cascade of red, curly locks. She was visibly flustered while interviewing me but all she wanted was to do was a prostate exam. Had no idea what that meant, but when she jammed her finger up the wazoo I found out. She did set me up for a full body scan, but by then I realized it was a whole lot of radiation that would only help the government get me off their books. 

Bought another ten days of antibiotic (four grams a day). I just want to finish the job, been very sick for a week now. 

When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.
Life is strange with its twists and turns
As every one of us sometimes learns
And many a failure comes about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow--
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out--
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell just how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit--
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.
John Greenleaf Whittier (bipolar disorder)

Just too damned sick. All day and all night. Cannot tolerate the antibiotic anymore. End of the road. The intense burning is long gone, the sour taste very faint, but I still feel islands of cystic goo in the sinuses, legs and feet and to a lesser degree everywhere. Please examine the photo section again and  photos of  Borrelia that I came across. I can't see red filaments inside the goo, but they cannot be anything other than inside the wens. Everything else is the same fatty, stretchy stuff. If only I'd realized that in 2008 that doctor would have probably seen that micrographs were done. Oh, yeah, I very well do remember picking the tick out where the first wen appeared in 1964. The medical profession would kill before admitting that the red material is Borrelia, but that's the only thing it could be. Like it's sister Syphilis, Lyme disease is not considered curable. The only hope I have is knowing the government and it's medical pimps are full of it. 

Problem solved. Now, I can freely charge the bastards with premeditated torture, theft and murder. It won't fly in an American court of course, but I can say it with conviction. When an entire medical brotherhood and government repeatedly blatantly lie to your face about a disease that causes ongoing injury and potentially death, then you have the God given right to demand they be relieved of duty and imprisoned. I still can find no other good reason for what happened to my three children, but they wouldn't have had a chance since birth. Impossible to catch Lyme disease in Montana?  Of course, the bastards made sure of that. We watched the kids born with very strange symptoms and then treated with the same brand of cavalier negligence. It is also a valid scientific conclusion derived from standard research analytic tools that they were damaged most of all from an unscheduled, unannounced MMR vaccine at Poplar High School in 1993, my daughter thinks a charity gesture by Bill Gates. Oh, they are so bursting with lies... Forget conspiracy theory, we know what kind of animals are hiding there.    

I'm struggling to find a way of getting micrographs of the red material inside the wens, but it doesn't look good. It doesn't matter much to myself because there is now certainty that the infection started with a tick bite in 1964 and the case for Lyme disease is now rock solid on plenty of grounds. Yeah, I'd like to shove it in their faces, but you know very well that the only head buried deeper than a hungry tick is the government collective. 

Reminds me of my last conversation with Smut when I was dying and struggling to hold up under ridicule at the USDA building in Roundup. I looked out the window at the hotel and said, you know, Smut, that hotel is trying to tell you something. "I wouldn't want to be seeing anything in that hotel," he answered. I said, yeah, it could get pretty scary. it's like when I was in the army, I tried messing up my desk and next thing the first sergeant was telling me his personal business. It's like if you keep the teller distracted, she'll end up giving you everything in the till. Longgg pause. Did you know they changed the definition of a Cr horizon? "No, I didn't catch that, said Smut." Pause. I said, the government said plant roots can't penetrate a Cr horizon, but now they admit that shale can't stop some plant roots. The roots don't care if they go straight down or sideways. Smut replies, "I'll have to check that one out. Sometimes I put something silly down on those forms." Hansen has been sitting there grinning the whole time and chimes in, "Yeah, I do that, too." Really, I said, oh my, you guys need to be taking my pills. "I don't have to worry about that," Smut says, "the only pills I take are for hangovers." LONGGG pause... I popped his bubble, What about the booze you drank before you took the pills? Smut and the state bosses died years ago. 

A week later we moved to Bellingham. I was in terrible shape, uncertain about surviving or being able to support a family. The idea of isolating within a Christian community was a terrible flop. I was perceived as a loser and continually fending off questions. One young fellah at a church meeting said something about getting a job and working like a man. I glanced out the window at a Christmas tree he'd cut and leaned against the side of his car. I replied, "Paul, that is the ugliest Christmas tree I ever saw. I know, you cut it down because you felt sorry for it." Longgg pause, I came close to his face, "DIDN'T YOU!" There was an endless parade of church counselors demanding payment for schizophrenia treatment. Massive amounts of vitamin B finally delivered me from the trap and made it possible to work again. Somehow I made it out of the US of A and to Thailand where I can afford to eat and live well in spite of a dread disease. In two days I'll be getting the wens removed and hoping for good micrographs to verify the Borrelia spirochete inside the wens.  

This is the letter I prepared... 

Hospital OPD, Cyst Removal for Alan Foos

Please understand that the two small cysts are not any problem, but I wish to have them removed because they are likely related to a widespread infection centered in the sinuses. Attached are photos of the cyst material in the sinuses.  Understand please that I have suffered from this infection for over sixty years and am the best judge of what it is and the symptoms experienced. Please have the two cysts carefully examined under a high powered microscope and give me contact information for the pathologist as the last doctor promised to do. My email is cusanusnicolas@gmail.com and my LINE ID is foosresearch. 

The infection is caused by a bacteria and has spread throughout the body for at least 56 years. Inside the small cysts on the scalp there is a ball of fat and inside that are bright red filaments. These are the bacteria. The infection is not a serious problem now, but it has often been so in the past and can become extremely dangerous, even fatal. 

Please examine the red material inside the cysts for bacteria about 50 microns long. It would be a great help to me.  If I'm wrong and there are no bacteria found in the red material, that is also good to know. 

Come to think of it, view the image and web site of a another sinus cyst caused by Lyme disease. These are known to be symptoms of Lyme. The urgency was that the Lyme was causing visual disturbances, not exactly like mine, but not that different. I had perfect vision until age 16 when the wens first appeared and then both eyes went nearsighted. Of course, the right eye was worse proportional to the size of the mass in the sinuses. http://www.ajnr.org/content/23/4/657. I wonder if they charged him $6,000 like Mayo did me for the MRI images that may as well been of my butt. Sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful, the offer of a hand job might have been helpful. Many times over the last forty years I've had visual disturbances that were related to the disease. Recently, my entire field of vision would dissolve. This was from the familiar muscle spasms also felt in the legs and face.  

It was a bad day for the operation, 21 August 2020. Nobody took the letter seriously. Three doctors  insisted the 1998 MRI was only sinusitis limited to the sinuses. Pain in the legs was from something else. Seeing the argument wasn't going anywhere, I said to forget it. I went for the door which turned out to be locked. Holy de ja vu, Fatman. They wouldn't stick me on mental ward again, would they? Instead, they went hunting for my lovely Thai wife. They then seemed to relent. I didn't get the pathologist's contact information as promised, but was promised electron micrographs would be taken and was scheduled to discuss the results in ten days. I didn't believe them, but it was the only shot I had. 

The operation was a two and a half hour ordeal while suffering peak throes of a terrible flu and cold. Twelve years ago the doctor at McCormack had carved out the same two cysts, cut them open and we both marveled about the red filaments inside the fat. This time I nearly suffocated under a face rag, fighting a drippy nose and urges to sneeze or cough. He likely didn't leave anything, so that would be the very last chance. It was maybe lucky that the first guy hadn't gotten it all. The red material had to be there because this is what attracted the fatty material. This time the wastebasket filled with bloody tissues as the doctor yanked and yanked on the cysts for well over two hours. He talked some, saying they were deeply rooted into my skull. I could feel him pulling them at least an inch or maybe two, but the material was the same goo as in my lips, cheeks, gums and sinuses, everywhere. Thinking of that, I asked him if it was extremely tough stuff. Yeah, no duh... It was the same continuous colony all the way into the soles of my feet, the same rubbery stuff stuck to my gums by morning. He nearly lifted my head off the bed numerous times. The cysts stretched but wouldn't budge. I knew his efforts would end in failure unless he used a scalpel to cut them out as the doctor had done twelve years ago. 

The surgeon made another very interesting comment that took me off guard. He was very taken with there being a bright red circle surrounding the cysts. I assumed had appeared as he was yanking on it them. I queried him, "Was it a ring that looked like a rifle target, you know, a bull's eye?" This is what is commonly seen around fresh tick bites that cause Lyme and is considered definitive of a Lyme infection. He said, yes, it looked like a target. How weird is that? It was a 56 year old tick bite that looked exactly like a week old Lyme infection. It had actually hit me until then that these were in fact tick bites and the one towards the front was exactly where I'd pulled out a tick in 1964. The wens contained pilot Borrelia colonies where the disease then spread through the scalp to the sinuses and from there the final frontier. I once shot a jackrabbit near Toston and picked him up by the back legs. Hundreds of ticks began marching up my arm like a small army. I tried to brush them all off but there were too many to be sure. I do believe there were no "deer" ticks known to cause Lyme in Toston, Montana, so that leaves only one certain conclusion. The disease is carried by more than one species of tick and there have been many cases of Lyme in Montana as many people have claimed.      

This doctor also showed me one of the cysts. I mentioned that there were red filaments. He replied, no, just fat, which was odd because he didn't cut them open. I didn't ask him to, figuring it was best left undisturbed for the pathologist. It already wasn't looking good for the examination. The odds favor finding red, living bacteria or the fat would be gone. 

In the summer of 1968 I was driving from Salt Lake City to Bozeman along the western edge of Yellowstone Park. It was near Big Springs, not in the park. I looked to the right about twenty yards to the edge of the thick pine forest and there standing tall and proud was a huge timber wolf. I argued for many years with the government who never failed to smugly inform me that there was zero possibility any wolves could be in that area. If you were to Google images of timber wolves you couldn't find as good an example of a timber wolf. Nobody who saw it would argue that it was a timber wolf, not a dog. Likewise, there has never been any possibility of endemic Lyme in Montana, they will say. They only see what they want to see and confirm that by rejecting anything that says otherwise. If only I had a picture of that wolf. But how foolish I am, they would find a way to discredit that just as the CDC has discredited images of Borrelia as evidence of Lyme disease. 

So, what if pathology comes back with no images of a Borrelia spirochete? Do I stick my head up my ass and not tell others what I know? As a scientist and as an intimate witness, there is zero possibility I did not acquire Lyme disease in 1964. I hadn't enough physical proof earlier this year and so was able to pretend otherwise in my complaint about conditions in Montana schools that nobody talks about. That story is worth hearing and also a good backdrop for I've been through with Lyme. I'm hoping that seven weeks of large doses of amoxycillin clavulanate has killed the bug, but that hope isn't very realistic. 

My ex used to go on about how crazy I was in the early 80s, never a concern about her husband dying, just that I was crazy being obsessed with the number two, a well known symptom of insanity. I would say, don't we have two kids, one male and one female? "Yeah, it's everything with you, isn't it, Al? Everything is two?" Yeah, like you know all computer code is binary, a string of ones and zeroes, so, yeah, everything is either yin or yang, why does that make me crazy?  "You see two of everything in everything! That's crazy. Like the old Roundup Hotel, you say there are two coats of paint on it. You are Krayzeee, Al..." Oh, wait, it's not just two coats, it's a half coats of white color mixed with a half coat of blue. DIFFERENT colors. And there's two neon signs that both say Cafe and Restaurant, but they're different sizes. And there's two pendulum clocks inside the restaurant, one flat side up and the other pointy side up. And two windows on the side, one broken, one not. She stares at me in disbelief... "You really are crazy, Al".  Forty years later she still marvels. 

31 August 2020. Time to return to the hospital for the pathologist's report. Why am I so sure that they ignored me and the request for micrographs? Yep, no evidence of infection, he said. No acknowledgement of my request, either, and no mention of any microscopes. No mention of what was inside the cysts. No mention of the fatty material that even the surgeons noted. No mention of the red filaments observed by the doctor in 2008. Ever notice that whenever you talk, nobody listens? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj60OAh7O5U 

The Thai doctor I spoke to was terrific, though. As always, but even more than usual, he was incredibly polite and interested in the story after reading my letter and looking at the 1998 MRI. In my entire life the land of the free I never met an MD who wasn't rushed, impatient, aloof and untrustworthy. This is why people fall in love with Thailand and refuse to budge. This guy asked what the doctors. He didn't try to prove to me that the cyst was gone as the last doctor in Missoula did, but he did ask what the doctors in the states told me was the cause of it. I said most of them diagnosed it bipolar disorder and a few schizophrenia. He got a big smile at that. He asked me what I thought. I said the only possibility is that it was Lyme disease. The wens were the tick bites that transmitted it in 1964 when the symptoms first started. He seemed very amused and happy that I had the bastards figured out. You certainly aren't suffering from those things, he said, why do you think they didn't test you for Lyme disease? I couldn't bear to tell him the truth, him being a doctor and a decent human being and all. 

My thoughts went back to Great Falls, Montana, in 1980 when the SAMF's stuffed me behind a locked door on a mental ward for a week. I listened to my roommate complain incessantly about the neglect he suffered from his family. I was in bad condition and needed emergency attention myself, but all the doctors had disappeared after dumping me there. Then, suddenly, five or six of the bastards surrounded his bed and carted him off. I shouldn't say I didn't know what they did to him because it was pretty obvious. Only fried circuits could have brought about such a remarkable change. When they brought him back he couldn't stop yammering about how happy he was and how wonderful his doctors were. You can be damn sure I waited patiently for several more days before hearing that all my symptoms and dire suffering was due to bipolar disorder. 

Back to now. The doctor asked me how I would know there were red material inside the fat in the wens, so I explained how the doctor in 2008 had made a cross section through both and we both looked at it with much curiosity. I always remembered pulling a tick out there, but we all had tick bites from time to time and didn't think much of it. After all, it's not possible to get Lyme disease in Montana. I didn't want to tell him the raw truth, that American doctors and their government backers are carnivorous, blood sucking, thieving serial killers, but it was obvious he already had that figured out. Millions are dying while being stuffed with pills that make people crazy. But now I know exactly what America stands for and am no longer afraid.