Life with Autism

Sunday, July 14, 2019

When the Silence Screams




A hard blog to write...
"When the Silence Screams"
Shared at great risk -- because of the haters and those who want our kids to just go away who are looking at any excuse or reason to call CPS/APS on us for "exploiting" our kids.
But I had to share this blog.
The world needs to HEAR this blog.
Brandon's pain.
Pharma-funded and controlled legislators are not hearing our voices with regard to vaccine fraud & corruption and our parental right to refuse a liability-free medical procedure.
Maybe they'll hear his.
I am exploiting not my son - but what has happened to him.
So that this holocaust against our children can be stopped!
Because if our right to refuse isn't upheld, our children's stolen dreams will be piled higher than rotting shoes at a holocaust museum.
That was government mandated with no ability to refuse, too.
Just like vaccination is fast becoming.

* * * 

I have tried to process the whiplash from being so high with HOPEISM at the sheer multitude of warriors lining up and speaking out against the removal of vaccine exemptions in many states; then the lowest of lows from the stunning defeat of Pharma-paid politicians in removing those exemptions anyway, despite the magnitude of truth presented to them at those hearings...

This one example from my "Life with Autism, Seizures, & a side of PANDAS" is why I named my primary blog, "From hell to HOPEISM".

My life is indeed a daily journey from hell to HOPEISM.

On a good day I arrive at that HOPEISM with barely the scent of smoke.

Other days - third degree burns from those moments, minutes, hours, or seemingly endless days in hell.

I was recently interviewed for a story regarding my sons vaccine injury...

One of the questions was, "Describe for me a good day with Brandon."

I tried to explain how there are no "good days" - there are simply moments that are easier, moments where you get a glimpse of what would have been, --- and moments where you wonder if the smile you captured in your child is pure, or if it's just yeast...

Like those moments of pure HOPEISM when I felt this was truly the moment the avalanche of truth would smother the lies -  in listening to the live feed from hearings in different states where warrior mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents, physicians, nurses all shouted together "I OPPOSE!" - --only to be met with the scorch of hell as each one of their pleas fell on deaf, pharma-funded politician ears.

A time or two (or three) I have had moments of sheer panic as I wondered what the future holds for my #Grandfishy and the rapid-fire vaccine mandates.

We are poisoning our babies.

Babies are born healthy, not in need of toxins and viral and bacterial cocktails injected in their pure, their sacred, their perfectly created blood stream.

My own son was born healthy, and before I ever gave him a chance to remain that way, I allowed those vaccine cocktails.

I allowed all of them. 

On time. 

Every time.

I wasn't "Pro-Vax" - I was "I didn't know any better but to vax!"

I'm not even "Anti-Vax" now.

I am "hell-no-never-again-like-ever" woke-vax!

Vaccines didn't make my son healthy.

He is sick!

And despite the hundreds of thousands of dollars we've thrown into treatments for him, he is only getting sicker!

Incredibly medically fragile with respect to autoimmune issues!

Vaccines stole his voice.

They stole his milestones.

They stole everything his future might have held for him.

Not to mention all it has stolen from us as his parents, our marriage, our "other" son, our family, and our friends.

It has stolen our empty nest, our retirement, our savings, our golden years.

Our ability to die in peace.

It is even now trying to scare us into silence.

The medical kidnapping we see over and over and over if we dare disagree with a doctor.

If we dare complain at the callous disregard shown to our vaccine-injured children, youth, & adults.

I complained about the care my son was being denied in IVIG for his doctor-documented PANDAS diagnosis - and a week later received a formal letter from the practice my son was a part of -  saying that they could no longer see my son as a patient and that I would have to find a new clinic for him.

They want us to go away.

They wish we never existed, which is ironic in that the same people who wish this, are the very ones who caused "this".

If you dare share the truth about vaccines publicly, if you dare share that proof in pictures, you will be turned in to CPS or in my case, APS.

Adult Protective Services.

(They've been called to report me twice now for sharing pictures of Brandon's vaccine injury.  And twice now I have been cleared of any exploitation or wrongdoing.)

To silence you further from speaking or sharing the truth of "how vaccines save lives."

How "safe and effective" vaccines actually are.

Even our own families cannot handle the sharing of the truth.

We are deemed "too negative".

Which makes me laugh when I hear that...

People who say that have no idea of the strength we have.  How positive we must truly be mentally just in order to survive.

We share the truth to a world that does not want the truth.

It's too inconvenient.

It's too hard.

It's not something that can be prayed away, wished away, or wiped away.

I decided long ago that Brandon's, and my, legacy would be one of truth.

People will know what happened to him.

People will see it.

And today, people will hear it.

For a week we have dealth with these brain-on-fire flares.

For a few precious moments, the HOPEISM of laughter in my brother's pool.

The ride home, pure hell.

No, there's not a pill to fix it.

No, I can't 'spank it out of him' as so many are told they should do.

No, we couldn't pull over and calm him, -- been there, tried that.

Hercules isn't even strong enough when he's in this state to hold his hands down so he doesn't bite them!

And no...

There's not a vaccine to reverse the vaccine injury.

We must simply get home as quickly as possible, do what our doctor told us to do to help calm him; but mostly, we must simply wait.

For whatever it is that is causing his brain to be on fire, to calm down.

For the flames to extinguish.

A virus?

A headache?

A migrane?

What?

When your son has been forever silenced by vaccination to "prevent" a week long fully recoverable febrile illness,  - how do you help them?

How do you know what hurts?

How do you afford what could help when you've spent all you have just to get him to this point?

You don't.

You simply endure.

You do all you can to keep your child safe, you cry tears of regret for not knowing the truth of vaccination, and you wait.

For when the silence stops screaming.

For the fire to be extinguished.

And then you savor that moment.

For as long as it may last.

In the car on the way home as quickly and safely possible, there was nothing else I could do for my son...

So I recorded him.

I wanted to have this video to bring should I get a chance to stand in line at a hearing and voice my opposition to vaccine exemptions being removed.

Or rather his.

I want them to hear my son's opposition to what was mandated for him without true informed consent for me.

I recorded this because I want the world to know the truth about vaccination.

That I'm not crazy.

Or making it up.

Or any of the number of things parents are being accused of when they are simply begging for help.

When they are saying what is happening to their children that no one hears or believes.

I record these flares and all the seizures to have as proof.

Proof of what happens after vaccination...

When the silence screams.



Listen...

Click the red link, and listen.

WHEN THE SILENCE SCREAMS

And think...

If you are over 50 - do you remember children like this?

No, you don't.

Because there weren't any.

Show me an unvaccinated child after getting natural measles doing this for the rest of their life!

This - what my son has been reduced to thanks to vaccination to prevent measles!


Immunization from liability is the only "immunization" vaccines provide.

Much like the only benefit of vaccination is profit for those who make them.


Watch this video from the same week as the one above:




Watch him and look at him when he is looking at you, and out loud to your computer or phone screen, ask him which he would rather have --

A week of measles or a lifetime of this?

I hope his pained expression and his screaming silence leaves no doubt as to his answer.

And ours!


I love you Brandon!!!

I am so very sorry I didn't have a tribe to speak truth regarding vaccines in the past so that you could have a different future.


Living life on the edge of crazy yet not too far from sane --

                Michelle M Guppy


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



If anyone would like to help Brandon....

It is hard to ask for help - but I am going to ask for Brandon's sake.

He's been in a continuous cycle of flares --- he has been and still is seen by the best mainstream physicians - yet the only medication that has helped Brandon with both seizures and the horrific PANS/PANDAS flares - has been Texas Compassionate Use Medical Marijuana.

Brandon has a Baylor Neurologist who has prescribed Compassionate Cultivation Medical Marijuana for him.

But it is not covered by private insurance or medicaid.

If you are NOT in the autism community - I ask of you to please consider helping us provide this for him.  We are not able to give the full amount prescribed simply due to cost.  And Brandon is someone who needs the full prescription amount for as severely affected by both as he is.

If you would like to be part of the village it takes to help Brandon - I do have a Pay Pal Account for the purpose of anyone donating there to help purchase the medical marijuana for Brandon.

Or you can contact Compassionate Cultivation in Texas - and donate on account for Brandon Guppy's prescription.

Thank you......

MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

What freedom must feel like...




This blog in our "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of PANDAS" is meant for those times when the pictures speak more than any words I could write...

This picture, one of those times.

On our way to and from his day program, when he's in a good mood, he loves to lean his head out the window to feel the wind on his face.

It is those rare times that I look at him from the rear view mirror and wonder if he feels as free from his "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of PANDAS" as he looks...

If for those few brief moments he feels what freedom must feel like...

The emotion of that often chokes me...

In my continued prayers and HOPEISM that in this life he could be free at last from all the things that make this picture, a rare one.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Other Side of the Fence





I hope these pictures haunt everyone.

They haunt me.

It's been a rare weekend where it wasn't totally overwhelming in caring for my son in his "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of PANDAS." 

In fact, all we had to care for was the autism.  Seizures and PANDAS took the weekend off I guess.

Thank you, Lord.

Brandon's daddy was next door helping "Neighbor Tom" trim back a bush that was hit hard by the "Houston Winter" we actually had this past winter.  Anything with a motor attracts the attention of Brandon -- and dad had a chainsaw which was the ultimate motor stim for him.

Brandon was perched in perfect balance on the landscape bricks and stretched himself tall enough to peer over the fence to watch - listen - and hum to the beat of the chainsaw.

Brandon was very much enjoying the present - but all I saw was the future.

I saw my son ever trapped in the confines of his autism - and I wondered if he ever thought about what could have been, what's out there over the fence, as I do...

I see myself as I get older with still few viable options for when I can no longer care for him.

What will be over the fence for us when that day comes?

I have looked.

Oh, how I have searched.

But everything I can see is out of our reach.

Even as I stand on tippy-toes of HOPEISM, the fence for the appropriate places still way too high to ever hope to get there.

Everything within reach, not worth climbing the fence for.

I also saw April right over that fence.

The month where all of us should feel that there will actually be something for our children over the fence --------

That something appropriate will be within reach.

But then much like Brandon's displeasure at me interrupting his moment of humming with a pesky camera ---

The look of reality....

How I will look all next month because of how April, National 'Celebrate Autism' Month - will be nothing but an intrusive camera sharing photo-shopped pictures of those who can already participate in life on the other side of the fence to momentarily disrupt our reality with a lit up blue fantasy. 

Monday, February 19, 2018

The Phantom of Pharma


It's been a while since I've shared a life with autism in pictures - picture.

But while I was going through some pictures I had taken this past weekend while we were all outside for the first time in forever - I came across this one.  The shading was just right and instantly the "Phantom of the Opera" image popped in my mind.  The mask he wore - the dark and light - the Jekyll and Hyde - the good versus evil...

It all applies...

I may never have seen the Phantom of the Opera -- but I know all too well the reality of the Phantom of Pharma.

And most tragically, what it has done to my son.

On the one side - such laughter and light.  How the light hides any perfections and makes his face so smooth, so serene.  So...perfect.  To look at him and be able to see the 'what was' before it was taken by the vaccinations that were neither necessary nor healthy -- is bittersweet.  What a priceless gift it is to see those few fleeting moments when our son is truly happy. To laugh with him and wonder what it is that makes him suddenly smile.  To long to hear him share the thought he had that made him laugh.  To be thankful for the rarest of moments when he seems to say to me, "This is your chance, I'm going to look right in the camera for you...you better be quick with the focus...it'll be a while before you get another chance"...   The opportunities when I am able to capture such precious moments, I am torn.  Thankful for the glimpse into his true self - yet reminded again by the deeply piercing and painful thorn in my side that reminds me that this moment truly is -- but a glimpse.

On the other side - the darkness - the pain.  The unfairness of what didn't have to be.  How the shadows seem to highlight the imperfections lurking beneath the surface.  The damage by what was mandated rearing its splotched ugliness on a daily basis. The hardship, the confusion, the silence, the seizures, the suffering.  The endless dark maze of trying to find that thing, that treatment, that something that will bring the light of HOPEISM to cast off the mask of vaccine injury and shatter the darkness forever.

I know this picture well.

HOPEISM on one side of my son, a bone-chilling haunting on the other side.

Pharma knows this picture well too.

They created it.

They market the light of what they want you to think their vaccines, their pills will bring.  They lure mother's with the shimmering promise and sparkle of health.  Then once that fairy tale doesn't end well, they disappear.

Leaving all who love the vaccine injured in their wake of destruction.

They pay off all around them to hide the darkness that they know and lie about.

Their prayers for you to go away as fervent as your prayers to bring your child back.

But what Pharma didn't count on, was that our phantom will no longer hide under an opera house.

Our truth will not lurk in the shadows.

It will overshadow their lies.

With a blinding light.


#HOPEISM

Saturday, January 27, 2018

A Day to Remember...



I use my yearly "week by week" planner as more of a "life journal" than a planner... 

I mean, it's hard to "plan" anything when no matter what I write down that I need to do, appointments, etc -- "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of PANDAS" will laugh hysterically at that...   So many times I've had appointments written down in ink, only to wake up the next morning to Brandon having a seizure which essentially erases that day's "plans".

So I suppose this is more my diary than any semblance of a planner.

Each year when I get a new yearly "week by week" planner, I transfer all the significant events I wanted to remember from the past year, to that corresponding date in the new year...so that when that day comes, I can look back at that event and be reminded of all it meant to me...in the good, bad, or ugly.  The good events an encouragement, a reminder of  how God provided.  The bad and ugly events, well, something to simply look back on but not stare. As perhaps a reminder that God got me through...  How it was very bad awful, but I got through it.  How I survived when at the time I felt there was no way I could. 

And as you can see from the picture above, January 24th was a day to write in my planner/journal as a day to remember.  A significant event to be written down to not forget...

I wrote about the two events hastily scribbled on my planner in more detail on my other blogs.  You can read about the Brandon deck event by clicking this link and the event where I could have died by clicking here.

This post isn't about those stories because again, you can read them by clicking those links...

This post is about the picture.  The events that happened.  The day to remember.

It's as if God said to me that day, "Michelle, you know as well as I do, that before this year ends, shit will most likely hit the fan a time or two in your life with Brandon...things will sometimes be good, sometimes bad, sometimes ugly.  When those very bad ugly days come, remember this day.  Remember when I saved Brandon from what could have been a very deadly fall.  Remember when I spared you from a car wreck that could have taken your life... When you are in that pit of isolation and confusion and you feel you are all alone and I'm not there, remember that I was, in a very profound way.  When you wish I would do this or that, remember how I see the big picture.  How I did what you needed when you didn't even know it was needed..."

God and I have these kinds of conversations.  He knows me.  He knows my life.  It's as if he had to show me on this day in this New Year - how he is present, and how he will still be present come December. 
It's like, "Let's just get this straight right now...I'm here...I will always be here when you are going through times when you feel I'm not here..."
And there have been many, many, many times when I was going through something in this "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of PANDAS" that I did not think God was there.  Where I could not feel his presence or hear his voice.

This day...

This day was a reminder in this New Year that he is here.

And always will be.
We all have such "Life with Autism in Pictures" moments throughout the year where we feel we will never survive...we can't go on...

Allow this to be my reminder to you that those times will merely be "a day to remember" at the end of the year.  A day to look back on as that reminder how you indeed survived.

#NDCQ

Monday, September 12, 2016

The ultimate price of deception.


Few things disturb me more than deception.  Which is defined as "the act of deceiving someone."  It's why I hate the vaccine industry and all who are a part of it, all who profit from it, and all who are puppets to it.  Not hate in a way that consumes me, simply hate it like a noun.  Not an action verb.  More a matter of fact thing.

All they have done is deceive.

They've deceived an entire generation of parents into thinking the normal childhood illnesses that have been around for generations - are now somehow deadly and will wipe us all off the face of the earth if we don't inject their toxins to save us.  To somehow say to God his perfectly designed immune system was no match for nature.  The nature that God created as well.  That somehow something "man" made in a vaccine could trump something that God perfectly orchestrated in our own immune system with nothing but his voice.

It's that deception that is the reason I'm sharing these pictures I do share on this blog.

I want parents to know the truth.

What the trade off actually is when you think you can trade an acute, normal, fully recoverable childhood illness for the illusion of immunity from an injection.

This is the trade off.

This is vaccine injury.

This is the deception that Senator Pan, the American Academy of Pediatrics, and Pediatricians everywhere are buying into.

That somehow injecting deadly toxins in the bloodstream of a perfectly healthy baby will be better than the non-deadly illness they might never even get.

I woke up this morning to find my son sleeping on this pillow.

I have stumbled upon many such scenes in his life with vaccine injury.

Much like his seizures, you never become immune to the horror of it.  The hatred it stirs.  The sorrow, guilt, and emotional whiplash it causes.  Yet again.

I want to be very clear in saying this......

If Senator Pan wins and SB277 is not only upheld in California but passed in other states as well, if Dr. Bob Sears loses his case with the lynch mob that is the medical licensing board and Pediatricians everywhere become afraid to write medical exemptions, if we as a Nation fail to demand of Congress to subpoena Dr. William Thompson for the CDC fraud committed as documented in the movie VAXXED,  -- if we fail to embrace the truth in how we have been lied to regarding the safety or necessity of vaccines --- this picture --- will be what happens to more and more and more children.

The sum of all that will go wrong in their bodies will be far greater than any perceived threat from an illness they might never even get.

If parents refuse to believe those of us who are begging them to do their own research, it's not they who I will feel sorry for when their child becomes severely vaccine injured as my son is, as so many of my friends children are....

It will be their children I feel sorry for.

They will pay the ultimate price of deception.

_

I am so sorry Brandon.

So very sorry.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Whose truth?


I started off this morning dreading an MRI on my back.  A few years ago in a period of excruciating pain I finally went to the back doctor to see what in the world was going on.  The x-rays showed a possible stress fracture among other issues with a disc.  He sent me to have an MRI to confirm.  It was indeed he felt, a stress fracture.  In our "Life with Autism & Seizures" I can't imagine how I would have a stress fracture!

(insert snarky laugh)

I mean, all I seem to do is find myself having to lift Brandon from awkward places after a seizure. The tub, my flower bed, under a table, on the dog kennel, on the trampoline, and under his bed.  I'm sure I've left out half a dozen or so places...  Then there's the trying to maneuver a 145 pound brick of jello in trying to change him, sheets, etc for the time he's out cold from the seizures.

I recently found myself needing major knee surgery after an obstacle landing gone wrong during Warrior Dash....  So with this knee rehabilitation, the weeks of not being able to walk right have made my back feel wonky again.  And by wonky I mean that excruciating pain at times.  I went back to the doctor and he again wanted another MRI to confirm the worsening of that disc on the x-ray.  Today was that day.  But then Brandon had a seizure in the morning and I jokingly posted that while seizures do in fact, suck, they suck a tiny micro-fraction less when they occur on a day you had an appointment you didn't want to go to...

Our Neurologist had said that since Brandon is prone to cluster seizures, that if he has one Grand Mal we could choose to give him a shot of seizure medicine in hopes of thwarting any further seizures, at least for the day.

So I did that.

I gave him the shot and he was sleeping peacefully.

At least now he won't have another seizure - today.

Or so I thought.

As I do, I shut his door if I am going downstairs for any reason.  I don't want the dogs going in his room or him waking up and going out.  We are super paranoid of him going down the stairs in that state, so I want to hear the door open so I can go up there.

Well, I guess he got up and went to go out of his room.

All I heard was that heart-stopping banging of the seizure he wasn't supposed to be having again today, and ran to his room.

But I couldn't get in.  He had fallen against the door and was having a seizure.

(thanks universe, for the insult to injury)

Imagine the feeling of hearing what's going on and not being able to get through the door.

Wondering if it will be blood or broken bone.

I suppose that if there is one thing to be thankful for, it is that because of our crazy life, we have to adapt everything.  Todd had made a door between the closets of Brandon's bedroom and my office/spare bedroom/gymatorium.  So that at night when I sleep in my office/spare bedroom/gymatorium I can close our doors, and if Brandon is up he has to come through the closets and I would hear him.  We did that for other reasons too for when the boys were young, but mainly for wandering purposes.

If not for that door, I couldn't have gotten to Brandon before the seizure was over to keep his head from banging against the wall and floor.  To keep him from breaking his toes from banging against the walls.  To be there with him as he was thrashing his way through hell.

I share all this for one purpose.

Every word that I've written is something that vaccine injury changes in your life.  There is not one part of your life that will not be affected by vaccine injury.  Not one.

It affects -

Your health.

How you must live.

All you must adapt to.

All you must endure.

This is not a sympathy post for those already touched.  They know this hell, they live it too.  We pray for and encourage each other through it.  It's how we survive. And if we're lucky - thrive.

It is for all the others.

The skeptics, those who believe in Pediatricians and government health agencies over the painful lessons us parents have had to learn the hard, and totally on our own way.

It is for all those in the media saying Wakefield is a fraud.

For all those who will not show VAXXED.

For all those who think they don't need to watch VAXXED.

It is for all those who think the science has been settled.

That vaccines don't cause autism.

That they have saved us from the ravages of normal childhood fully recoverable illnesses.

For all those who read the truths we share and still think they're lies --

I pray you see this picture.

I pray you see the truth.

Read this story.

Remember this story.

Memorize this picture.

Before you too must learn for yourself whose truth you should have believed.

___

I got to Brandon before the seizure was over.

He was not hurt.

This time.

But I live with the constant never-ending sound of a clock ---
So many of my friends who have vaccine injured children like Brandon have found them dead after a seizure.  So many fears with each and every sound of a seizure.  Our only prayer in getting through them is that our faith might be a fraction bigger than those fears.  That our faith might trump seizure's fate.

I hear that clock every second of every day and during every seizure.

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock