tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59169627467644043472024-03-13T13:54:25.508-07:00Life with Autism in PicturesOn my "Life with Autism" blog, it is my hope that the words you read are inspirational in some way.
But on this blog --- I wanted it to be different. I wanted the pictures to be more powerful than the words.
Here will be some of our most powerful pictures in our "Life with Autism" - with only a few words to explain...
Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-74892349151433469852022-02-09T08:13:00.008-08:002022-02-09T14:08:17.019-08:00Silent Surrender<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwQYCj8PwkGCe69oAHKHhQrheSAI9dm1CjJOZUe1IxK0kc5Lh_O6idDy8sIuwudb7VhuLGtLY6tiVPeTVGJS8tBaY-qnjFKznOBsUn0bSQbMtzSkgaFwyz2h8y8XWIpjKx3G9MLaZUWzVilsnTB9JZziNPPhir-OA5HeUCVX3J0VMuUnouCsPTUABKtg=s1440" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwQYCj8PwkGCe69oAHKHhQrheSAI9dm1CjJOZUe1IxK0kc5Lh_O6idDy8sIuwudb7VhuLGtLY6tiVPeTVGJS8tBaY-qnjFKznOBsUn0bSQbMtzSkgaFwyz2h8y8XWIpjKx3G9MLaZUWzVilsnTB9JZziNPPhir-OA5HeUCVX3J0VMuUnouCsPTUABKtg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></p>In many ways, the last few months have been a series of <i><b>Lemony Snicket's "A Series of Unfortunate Events"</b></i>..... as well as the usual series of <i><b>"unrecoverable's"</b></i> as Todd so fondly calls the insanity of certain incidents we could never imagine in our <i><b>"Life with Autism, Seizures, & a side of PANDAS"</b></i>...<br /><br />I have to chuckle at my ignorance...silly me...I thought the rules of life were that if you already have one lifelong challenge, you were somehow magically exempt from all other hardships that can happen in life. To say that I've felt suckerpunched is to say that "autism" is simply a "quirky behavior." Not many will get that, but those who do, <b><i>deeply get it. <br /></i></b><p>As I have desperately tried to navigate this unfamiliar and unwanted bump in the road so to speak - I am deeply grateful for the NDCQ motto that I have embraced thanks to being introduced to the Navy SEAL world of FORGED warriors and their NEVER QUIT mentality - not to mention the Survival, Evasion, Resistance, & Escape (SERE) training of Matt's Navy journey that began ten years ago...<br /><br /><i><b>"The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday"</b></i> has been proven to be true in my life in so many ways..... except I might add, for warrior families like mine, there seem to be <i>no easy days.........<br /><br />(I mean really, don't we warrior moms wish upon wishes that our "Hell Week" lasted only a week?)</i></p><p>Which brings me to this picture I captured a few days ago while driving my son to his Adult Day Program...<br /><br />I have shared so often the incredible courage and bravery and strength it takes to get through each moment of each day. The will to keep forging forward when the trials and tribulations pushing you backward are unrelenting and unbearable.<br /><br />The smile we sometimes have to force on our face to prove the<b><i> "Not Dead Can't Quit"</i></b> battle we fight so ferociously & fiercely - lest others be burdened by seeing the burdens we must bear. I cannot tell you how many times people closest to me have chided me for "not looking very happy" - "not smiling" - "being grumpy". Those who have every freedom in life and who have never walked one step in my isolating shoes, telling me how I must look, act, feel. <br /><br />Forgive me my transgressions of transparency in that....<br /><br />So what I share here is the reality of the warrior within.<br /><br />Sometimes the greatest strength a person has, is allowing others to see their weakness.<br /><br />Their moments when they freeze the flaming swords they are juggling.<br /><br />Their moments on the battlefield when they must simply stop and reload.<br /><br />Rest?<br /><br />No.<br /><br />There's no calvary coming to help us.<br /><br />Their moments when they allow themselves to feel the pain, the struggle, the hardship they try so hard to rise above or hide.<br /><br />Where even if they could talk, there would be no words.<br /><br />Just a silent surrender...<br /><br />For just a fleeting moment.<br /><br />I look at my son in this picture and I see not his weakness, not even his momentary surrender, but his strength.<br /><br />His indomitable strength, endurance, courage, bravery.<br /><br />I that because I have walked beside him every step of his journey, most often it is I who must carry him if he's fallen from a seizure. I know the wars that rage within the walls of his world because I live it with him.<br /><br />And my heart overflows with bittersweet admiration & respect toward him.<br /><br />Take your moment Brandon...<br /><br />I have your back.<br /><br />I just wish someone had ours.</p><p><br /></p>Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-71216542734772634052019-07-14T10:56:00.003-07:002019-07-15T08:38:56.797-07:00When the Silence Screams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThOiHT9Y_8Qi9bRWKo-eFghFv01Ea9ErXfTwomleil7uAM5A9JLlLM_9HdMplDlcDnOwO16gleAO8KGOS-BaxRQ2wz4PoDV5aI-3AQz6R20FOBuzmTBj8TdKVCgNYlq4K6Ji681V6X64n/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1588" data-original-width="1600" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThOiHT9Y_8Qi9bRWKo-eFghFv01Ea9ErXfTwomleil7uAM5A9JLlLM_9HdMplDlcDnOwO16gleAO8KGOS-BaxRQ2wz4PoDV5aI-3AQz6R20FOBuzmTBj8TdKVCgNYlq4K6Ji681V6X64n/s400/shoes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;">
<i><b>A hard blog to write...</b></i></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
<i><b>"When the Silence Screams"</b></i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
<i><b>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.</b></i></div>
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<i><b><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;">
But I had to share this blog.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
The world needs to HEAR this blog.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
Brandon's pain.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
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.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
Maybe they'll hear his.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
I am exploiting not my son - but what has happened to him.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
So that this holocaust against our children can be stopped!</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
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.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
That was government mandated with no ability to refuse, too.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Just like vaccination is fast becoming.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">* * * </span></div>
</b></i></div>
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<br />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...<br />
<br />
This one example from my <b><i>"Life with Autism, Seizures, & a side of PANDAS"</i></b> is why I named my primary blog,<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> <a href="http://michellemguppy.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">"From hell to HOPEISM"</a>.</span></b><br />
<br />
My life is indeed a daily journey from hell to <b>HOPEISM</b>.<br />
<br />
On a good day I arrive at that HOPEISM with barely the scent of smoke.<br />
<br />
Other days - third degree burns from those moments, minutes, hours, or seemingly endless days in hell.<br />
<br />
I was recently interviewed for a story regarding my sons vaccine injury...<br />
<br />
One of the questions was, <i>"Describe for me a good day with Brandon."</i><br />
<br />
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...<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
We are poisoning our babies.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
My own son was born healthy, and before I ever gave him a chance to remain that way, I allowed those vaccine cocktails.<br />
<br />
I allowed all of them. <br />
<br />
On time. <br />
<br />
Every time.<br />
<br />
I wasn't "Pro-Vax" - I was <b>"I didn't know any better but to vax!"</b><br />
<br />
I'm not even "Anti-Vax" now.<br />
<br />
I am <i><b>"hell-no-never-again-like-ever"</b></i> woke-vax!<br />
<br />
Vaccines didn't make my son healthy.<br />
<br />
He is sick!<br />
<br />
And despite the hundreds of thousands of dollars we've thrown into treatments for him, he is only getting sicker!<br />
<br />
Incredibly medically fragile with respect to autoimmune issues!<br />
<br />
Vaccines stole his voice.<br />
<br />
They stole his milestones.<br />
<br />
They stole everything his future might have held for him.<br />
<br />
Not to mention all it has stolen from us as his parents, our marriage, our "other" son, our family, and our friends.<br />
<br />
It has stolen our empty nest, our retirement, our savings, our golden years.<br />
<br />
Our ability to die in peace.<br />
<br />
It is even now trying to scare <i>us </i>into silence.<br />
<br />
The medical kidnapping we see over and over and over if we dare disagree with a doctor.<br />
<br />
If we dare complain at the callous disregard shown to our vaccine-injured children, youth, & adults.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i><b>They want us to go away.</b></i><br />
<br />
They wish we never existed, which is ironic in that the same people who wish this, <i><b>are the very ones who caused "this".</b></i><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Adult Protective Services.<br />
<br />
<i>(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.)</i><br />
<br />
To silence you further from speaking or sharing the truth of "how vaccines save lives."<br />
<br />
How "safe and effective" vaccines actually are.<br />
<br />
Even our own families cannot handle the sharing of the truth.<br />
<br />
We are deemed "too negative".<br />
<br />
Which makes me laugh when I hear that...<br />
<br />
People who say that have no idea of the strength we have. How positive we must truly be mentally just in order to survive.<br />
<br />
We share the truth to a world that does not want the truth.<br />
<br />
It's too inconvenient.<br />
<br />
It's too hard.<br />
<br />
It's not something that can be prayed away, wished away, or wiped away.<br />
<br />
I decided long ago that Brandon's, and my, legacy would be one of truth.<br />
<br />
People will know what happened to him.<br />
<br />
People will see it.<br />
<br />
<b><u><i>And today, people will hear it.</i></u></b><br />
<br />
For a week we have dealth with these brain-on-fire flares.<br />
<br />
For a few precious moments, the HOPEISM of laughter in my brother's pool.<br />
<br />
The ride home, pure hell.<br />
<br />
No, there's not a pill to fix it.<br />
<br />
No, I can't 'spank it out of him' as so many are told they should do.<br />
<br />
No, we couldn't pull over and calm him, -- been there, tried that.<br />
<br />
Hercules isn't even strong enough when he's in this state to hold his hands down so he doesn't bite them!<br />
<br />
And no...<br />
<br />
There's not a vaccine to reverse the vaccine injury.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
For whatever it is that is causing his brain to be on fire, to calm down.<br />
<br />
For the flames to extinguish.<br />
<br />
A virus?<br />
<br />
A headache?<br />
<br />
A migrane?<br />
<br />
What?<br />
<br />
When your son has been forever silenced by vaccination to "prevent" a week long fully recoverable febrile illness, - how do you help them?<br />
<br />
How do you know what hurts?<br />
<br />
How do you afford what could help when you've spent all you have just to get him to this point?<br />
<br />
You don't.<br />
<br />
You simply endure.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
For when the silence stops screaming.<br />
<br />
For the fire to be extinguished.<br />
<br />
And then you savor that moment.<br />
<br />
For as long as it may last.<br />
<br />
In the car on the way home as quickly and safely possible, there was nothing else I could do for my son...<br />
<br />
So I recorded him.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Or rather his.<br />
<br />
I want them to hear my son's opposition to what was mandated for him without true informed consent for me.<br />
<br />
I recorded this because I want the world to know the truth about vaccination.<br />
<br />
That I'm not crazy.<br />
<br />
Or making it up.<br />
<br />
Or any of the number of things parents are being accused of when they are simply begging for help.<br />
<br />
When they are saying what is happening to their children that no one hears or believes.<br />
<br />
I record these flares and all the seizures to have as proof.<br />
<br />
Proof of what happens after vaccination...<br />
<br />
When the silence screams.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Listen...<br />
<br />
Click the red link, and listen.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://youtu.be/dIFW_GLHfhE" target="_blank"><span style="color: #990000;">WHEN THE SILENCE SCREAMS</span></a></b><br />
<br />
And think...<br />
<br />
If you are over 50 - do you remember children like this?<br />
<br />
No, you don't.<br />
<br />
Because there weren't any.<br />
<br />
Show me an unvaccinated child after getting natural measles doing this for the rest of their life!<br />
<br />
This - what my son has been reduced to thanks to vaccination to <i>prevent </i>measles!<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b>Immunization from liability is the only "immunization" vaccines provide.</b></i><br />
<div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: start;">
<i><span style="text-align: center;"><br />Much like the only benefit of vaccination is profit for those who make them.</span><span style="font-style: normal; font-weight: 400;"><br /><br />Watch this video from the same week as the one above:</span><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyN5R2dQ9Bqli_f2WxKAgIZJVBHgrZnNFdsrJfbOaJxOXx4pEEcTitgOuppsoRB7xfZXN-Qj_vbf6-XNfZSCw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<br />
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 --<br />
<br />
A week of measles or a lifetime of this?<br />
<br />
I hope his pained expression and his screaming silence leaves no doubt as to his answer.<br />
<br />
And ours!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>I love you Brandon!!!</b><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Living life on the edge of crazy yet not too far from sane --<br /><br /> Michelle M Guppy</b><br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>If anyone would like to help Brandon....</b><br />
<br />
It is hard to ask for help - but I am going to ask for Brandon's sake.<br />
<br />
He's been in a continuous cycle of flares --- he has been and still is seen by <i style="font-weight: bold;">the best </i>mainstream physicians - yet <b><i>the only</i></b> medication that has helped Brandon with both seizures and the horrific PANS/PANDAS flares - has been Texas Compassionate Use Medical Marijuana.<br />
<br />
Brandon has a Baylor Neurologist who has prescribed Compassionate Cultivation Medical Marijuana for him.<br />
<br />
But it is not covered by private insurance or medicaid.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Or you can contact Compassionate Cultivation in Texas - and donate on account for Brandon Guppy's prescription.<br />
<br />
Thank you......<br />
<br />
MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com<br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-14990014300818357192018-05-30T11:58:00.002-07:002018-05-30T19:49:32.787-07:00What freedom must feel like...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XzTrNfqIfIHGEHjv7uvoRsYma7_QXaKbIS_DJVwq5zrR9yfkkbi47lYivrFrgu36vBDFa8MlDZNOyZGMMRCai5QQY60cKPNzy_RYOjWNfwXermSQEghfXRKvOqa3x6AgsdIcCFAeWUF6/s1600/2018+Brandon+25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1002" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XzTrNfqIfIHGEHjv7uvoRsYma7_QXaKbIS_DJVwq5zrR9yfkkbi47lYivrFrgu36vBDFa8MlDZNOyZGMMRCai5QQY60cKPNzy_RYOjWNfwXermSQEghfXRKvOqa3x6AgsdIcCFAeWUF6/s400/2018+Brandon+25.jpg" width="312" /></a></div>
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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...<br />
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This picture, one of those times.<br />
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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.<br />
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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...<br /><br />If for those few brief moments he feels what freedom must feel like...<br />
<br />
The emotion of that often chokes me...<br />
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In my continued prayers and HOPEISM that in this life he could be <b style="font-style: italic;">free at last </b>from all the things that make this picture, a rare one.Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-38447436672352202262018-03-25T19:41:00.001-07:002018-03-25T19:41:52.024-07:00The Other Side of the Fence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdfXPHpwo1zhh5RnQW_MOC0Zzub8GVBgOfyj0V346JDlvRBeqfOHue1pic4ouCfZqRACFHzcOseO021BPwv-qjM1BFpm5a5XUpn_JLk0r_IYIYTojOJYUckd8U-6qpRJ13GojUdzJHgjz/s1600/DSC06142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdfXPHpwo1zhh5RnQW_MOC0Zzub8GVBgOfyj0V346JDlvRBeqfOHue1pic4ouCfZqRACFHzcOseO021BPwv-qjM1BFpm5a5XUpn_JLk0r_IYIYTojOJYUckd8U-6qpRJ13GojUdzJHgjz/s400/DSC06142.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<br /><br />I hope these pictures haunt everyone.<br /><br />They haunt me.<br /><br />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." <br /><br />In fact, all we had to care for was the autism. Seizures and PANDAS took the weekend off I guess.<br /><br />Thank you, Lord.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Brandon was very much enjoying the present - but all I saw was the future.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />I see myself as I get older with still few viable options for when I can no longer care for him.<br /><br />What will be over the fence for us when that day comes?<br /><br />I have looked.<br /><br />Oh, how I have searched.<br /><br />But everything I can see is out of our reach.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Everything within reach, not worth climbing the fence for.<br /><br />I also saw April right over that fence.<br /><br />The month where all of us should feel that there will actually be something for our children over the fence --------<br /><br />That something appropriate will be within reach.<br /><br />But then much like Brandon's displeasure at me interrupting his moment of humming with a pesky camera ---<br /><br />The look of reality....<br /><br />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. <br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-71128437680576583972018-02-19T18:19:00.002-08:002018-02-19T18:29:05.314-08:00The Phantom of Pharma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a while since I've shared a <i><b>life with autism in pictures</b></i> - picture.<br />
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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...<br />
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It all applies...<br />
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I may never have seen the <i>Phantom of the Opera</i> -- but I know all too well the reality of the <b><i>Phantom of Pharma.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
And most tragically, what it has done to my son.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
<br />
I know this picture well.<br />
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HOPEISM on one side of my son, a bone-chilling haunting on the other side.<br />
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Pharma knows this picture well too.<br />
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They created it.<br />
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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.<br />
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Leaving all who love the vaccine injured in their wake of destruction.<br />
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They pay off all around them to hide the darkness that they know and lie about.<br />
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Their prayers for you to go away as fervent as your prayers to bring your child back.<br />
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But what Pharma didn't count on, was that our phantom will no longer hide under an opera house.<br />
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Our truth will not lurk in the shadows.<br />
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It will overshadow their lies.<br /><br />With a blinding light.<br />
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<br />
#HOPEISM<br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-19263595284574496972018-01-27T09:09:00.003-08:002018-01-27T09:09:49.624-08:00A Day to Remember...<br />
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I use my yearly "week by week" planner as more of a "life journal" than a planner... <br /><br />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".<br /><br />So I suppose this is more my diary than any semblance of a planner.<br /><br />
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. <br /><br />
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...<br />
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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 <b><a href="https://michellemguppy.blogspot.com/2018/01/im-50-and-too-old-for-this.html" target="_blank">by clicking this link</a> </b>and the event where I could have died <a href="https://godsworddaybyday.blogspot.com/2018/01/be-vigilant-because-enemy-prowls.html" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">by clicking here.</a><br /><br />This post isn't about those stories because again, you can read them by clicking those links...<br /><br />This post is about the picture. The events that happened. The day to remember.<br /><br />It's as if God said to me that day, <i style="font-weight: bold;">"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..."</i><br /><br />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 <i><b>is</b></i> present, and how <i><b>he will still be</b></i> present come December.<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i><br />It's like, <b><i>"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..."</i></b><br />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.<br /><br />This day...<br /><br />This day was a reminder in this New Year that he is here.<br /><br /><i><b>And always will be.</b></i><br />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...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />#NDCQMichelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-55597311130397680992016-09-12T10:23:00.002-07:002016-09-12T10:23:17.399-07:00The ultimate price of deception.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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.<br /><br />All they have done is deceive. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />It's that deception that is the reason I'm sharing these pictures I do share on this blog.<br /><br />I want parents to know the truth.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />This is the trade off.<br /><br />This is vaccine injury.<br /><br />This is the deception that Senator Pan, the American Academy of Pediatrics, and Pediatricians everywhere are buying into.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I woke up this morning to find my son sleeping on this pillow.<br /><br />I have stumbled upon many such scenes in his life with vaccine injury.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I want to be very clear in saying this......<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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....<br /><br />It will be their children I feel sorry for.<br /><br />They will pay the ultimate price of deception.<br /><br />_<br /><br />I am so sorry Brandon.<br /><br />So very sorry.<br /><br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-36554861396230731702016-06-24T13:26:00.001-07:002016-06-25T08:59:24.635-07:00Whose truth?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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! <br />
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(insert snarky laugh) <br />
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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.<br />
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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...<br />
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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.<br />
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So I did that.<br />
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I gave him the shot and he was sleeping peacefully.<br />
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At least now he won't have another seizure - today.<br />
<br />Or so I thought.<br />
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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.<br />
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Well, I guess he got up and went to go out of his room.<br />
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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.<br />
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But I couldn't get in. He had fallen against the door and was having a seizure.<br />
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(thanks universe, for the insult to injury)<br />
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Imagine the feeling of hearing what's going on and not being able to get through the door.<br />
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Wondering if it will be blood or broken bone.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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I share all this for one purpose.<br />
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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.<br />
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It affects -<br />
<br />
Your health.<br />
<br />
How you must live.<br />
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All you must adapt to.<br />
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All you must endure.<br />
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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.<br />
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It is for all the others.<br />
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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.<br />
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It is for all those in the media saying Wakefield is a fraud.<br />
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For all those who will not show VAXXED.<br />
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For all those who think they don't need to watch VAXXED.<br />
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It is for all those who think the science has been settled.<br />
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That vaccines don't cause autism.<br /><br />That they have saved us from the ravages of normal childhood fully recoverable illnesses.<br />
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For all those who read the truths we share and still think they're lies --<br />
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I pray you see this picture.<br /><br />I pray you see the truth.<br />
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Read this story.<br /><br />Remember this story.<br /><br />Memorize this picture.<br />
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Before you too must learn for yourself whose truth you should have believed.<br />
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___<br />
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I got to Brandon before the seizure was over.<br />
<br />
He was not hurt.<br />
<br />
This time.<br />
<br />
But I live with the constant never-ending sound of a clock ---<br />
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.<br />
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I hear that clock every second of every day and during every seizure.<br />
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Tick<br />
<br />
Tock<br />
<br />
Tick<br />
<br />
TockMichelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-58522155372143761772016-06-15T13:49:00.001-07:002016-06-15T13:55:44.974-07:00It ain't over yet.<br />
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<br />
I took this picture on a day recently where Brandon had 3 Grand-Mal seizures in an 8 hour period. This warrior-son of mine - too tough for them to keep him down for long, yet not tough enough to be up and moving without wobbling. So we laid there in his bed together and listened to his favorite worship videos. For the longest time we just laid there holding hands. <br />
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I took these pictures hoping that words would come with them for this blog. And they did. Thanks to Toby Mac and his song "Move, Keep Walking."<br />
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These lyrics, let them speak to you in whatever battle you are fighting with your child - as they minister to me in our battle against seizures.<br />
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Shout these words.<br />
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Shout them so loud the vibrations shake even satan.<br />
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Shout them so forcefully they land at God's feet in heaven.<br />
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Brandon - you are the strongest warrior I know.<br />
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Move.<br />
<br />
Keep walkin.<br />
<br />
It ain't over yet.<br />
<br />
The Lord ain't finished yet.<br />
<br />
We will win.<br />
<br />
#VAXXED<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRapVbyd1SuWYwM6cU9F4MJxF_TLUWUf6WBuhgXgJ3bIUes472MY5_Nt6lJutVirqav-BuLedmHZyd6NpOaU4wLvzKgFgVoG5VRs743mYerXhAHgZUAxbLElRs14YkzJuLcobnBRU6Hb0h/s1600/Brandon+114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRapVbyd1SuWYwM6cU9F4MJxF_TLUWUf6WBuhgXgJ3bIUes472MY5_Nt6lJutVirqav-BuLedmHZyd6NpOaU4wLvzKgFgVoG5VRs743mYerXhAHgZUAxbLElRs14YkzJuLcobnBRU6Hb0h/s400/Brandon+114.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another heartbreak day</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Feels like you're miles away</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Don't need no shade</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When your sun don't shine, shine</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Too many passin' dreams</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Roll by like limousines</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's hard to keep believin'</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When they pass you by and by</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know your heart been broke again</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know your prayers ain't been answered yet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know you're feeling like you got nothing left</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, lift your head, it ain't over yet, ain't over yet so</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Move, keep walkin' soldier keep movin' on</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Move, Keep walkin' until the mornin' comes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Move, keep walkin' soldier keep movin' on</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And lift your head, it ain't over yet, ain't over yet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Echoin' inside your head</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Are the words that your sweet momma said,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"shoot for the moon, my dear"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So you took aim out of this atmosphere</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Between high stakes and pump fakes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You're feelin' like you can't buy a break</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can hold your hand, but I can't turn your eyes to freedom</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know your heart been broke again</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know your prayers ain't been answered yet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know you're feeling lke you got nothing left</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, lift your head, it ain't over yet, ain't over yet so</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Move, keep walkin' soldier keep movin' on</div>
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Move, Keep walkin' until the mornin' comes</div>
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Move, keep walkin' soldier keep movin' on</div>
</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
And lift your head, it ain't over yet, ain't over yet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hold on, hold on</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
Lord ain't finished yet</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
Hold on, hold on</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
He'll get you through this</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
Hold on, hold on</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
These are the promises</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
I never will forget</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
I never will forget<br /><br />I know your heart been broke again<br />
I know your prayers ain't been answered yet<br />
It ain't over yet, ain't over yet, so<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
Move, keep walkin' soldier keep movin' on</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
Move, Keep walkin' until the mornin' comes</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
Move, keep walkin' soldier keep movin' on</div>
</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 1; word-spacing: 0px;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-align: start;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-align: start;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-align: start;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;">
And lift your head, it ain't over yet, ain't over yet.</div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-13253717315547472202016-06-02T10:19:00.001-07:002017-02-04T10:31:45.482-08:00VAXXED...in pictures.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMGiXQEbAXsFLtttBxtDWzJqXHkky91YyD7ltv26oqn83W0N-lkaT-hFkcUsgutcCI4B0Ph4954mrmYOUR_x4bD-uXUccH0lDYAAQiXmLXLjaZjMEPXMZD0V4x3-Zw7PHrLzIUMUE8VIB/s1600/VAXXED+BRANDON.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMGiXQEbAXsFLtttBxtDWzJqXHkky91YyD7ltv26oqn83W0N-lkaT-hFkcUsgutcCI4B0Ph4954mrmYOUR_x4bD-uXUccH0lDYAAQiXmLXLjaZjMEPXMZD0V4x3-Zw7PHrLzIUMUE8VIB/s400/VAXXED+BRANDON.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
My <a href="http://michellemguppy.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Life with Autism</a> blog is my main blog...but I created this one for when words aren't really necessary. I have chronicled my son's vaccine injury (excuse me, his "autism") through pictures and when I get a moment, I try and share them here.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With all the misunderstanding still about autism, how society is still woefully misinformed about it, it is my hopes that these pictures tell a story that "autism" - which for most of us is vaccine injury - is anything but cute, anything but something to be celebrated, accepted, ignored, covered up... For my son, it is leaky gut, it is autoimmune encephalopathy, it is seizure upon seizure upon endless seizures that split open his skin, shatter his teeth, break his bones, and knock holes in our walls.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, we are blessed to have those few and far between moments of blinding light in seeing our son as God created him to be before he was fully and irrevocably VAXXED, but most often it is a life of challenge, hardship, and pain. It is endless moments of leaky gut, incessant humming, aggression, self-injury, silence, pain, confusion, loneliness, financial ruin, discrimination, stress, trauma, and the list goes on.<br />
<br />
Those rare moments of light, of seeing Brandon and not vaccine injury, are just enough to keep that fire going, however faintly it smolders. Those rare moments of light in seeing our children as full of joy as they can be are to me, God's way of saying that no, He hasn't abandoned us. He loves us and knows what we are going through. Those rare moments are just enough to make HOPEISM something worth clinging to. Encouraging us to never quit in the pursuit of the next such moment of light we might capture and cherish.<br />
<br />
But make up for all the other times, they do not.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'll stop with my feeble attempt at words - and let the silence of my son speak.<br />
<br />
I truly hope you listen.<br />
<br />
And hear from these pictures, what it means to be vaxxed.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdvhx7GONvNAirHYbWXnTBnw3CPkHxYoCyRNQbG2HjQiuGdbrE2qOty5pLZmJQYjJAdInGApDdscSWq1sMXrx3qhdSM5m1tQJRsMiwOkzBndD-wz6tRJX2niCK0GZmT9Wqz7Ym8Jo7P97/s1600/Black+and+White+Brandon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdvhx7GONvNAirHYbWXnTBnw3CPkHxYoCyRNQbG2HjQiuGdbrE2qOty5pLZmJQYjJAdInGApDdscSWq1sMXrx3qhdSM5m1tQJRsMiwOkzBndD-wz6tRJX2niCK0GZmT9Wqz7Ym8Jo7P97/s400/Black+and+White+Brandon.JPG" width="340" /></a></div>
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~ ~ ~</div>
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With this next picture, I dedicate this blog entry to you CDC. To you Pharma. To you media. To all of you who are responsible for this entire generation of children being #VAXXED.<br />
<br />
Well said Brandon.<br />
<br />
Well said.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoh1ZgkNT85ZpSSAj3XqhaARgm3efWRN8xVyCAf-MHfbFU8IhtnWii6OmlWc8HmAJhtgFAw_OMvbn3Ts8TiA6chtk1JU6YYRA7Q0OiIsFExA0D_BiKsbxkBIjM01CuxJhyv7KoFG2LbELa/s1600/Brandon+Giving+Finger.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoh1ZgkNT85ZpSSAj3XqhaARgm3efWRN8xVyCAf-MHfbFU8IhtnWii6OmlWc8HmAJhtgFAw_OMvbn3Ts8TiA6chtk1JU6YYRA7Q0OiIsFExA0D_BiKsbxkBIjM01CuxJhyv7KoFG2LbELa/s320/Brandon+Giving+Finger.JPG" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beauty of sign language well spoken.</td></tr>
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I will NEVER QUIT trying to make right, this very, very, very, wrong done to you.</div>
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I love you Brandon...<br />
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NDCQ<br />
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HOOYAH<br />
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Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-48580890509567683432016-06-01T20:02:00.003-07:002016-06-02T08:31:00.293-07:00VAXXED<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQOozdhUM19NZlcRPe-hfXK1vkQCet6p0Dx8IUCseCbaFQeSSiE22ODAeDsRUNI1yjNeXmlD3p9oDekkv_L9pigoR1Y2xVcOLVvMd1WVrA69qmKT01wIfDtZa8tc1HOmJOMqS1rqsYaa4/s1600/Brandon+106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQOozdhUM19NZlcRPe-hfXK1vkQCet6p0Dx8IUCseCbaFQeSSiE22ODAeDsRUNI1yjNeXmlD3p9oDekkv_L9pigoR1Y2xVcOLVvMd1WVrA69qmKT01wIfDtZa8tc1HOmJOMqS1rqsYaa4/s400/Brandon+106.jpg" width="321" /></a></div>
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I took this picture of my son today. <br />
<br />
Today. <br />
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Where I woke up yet again to the sounds of a seizure. <br />
<br />
Today. <br />
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Where my workout plan sat waiting for me to begin once I got back from taking Brandon, who is 22 years old, to his therapy center. But would have to instead wait until tomorrow. Because of the seizure. Yet again. <br />
<br />
Today. <br />
<br />
Where when Brandon finally woke up from the seizure I would spend the rest of the day coaxing him to eat, to drink, to take the 12 supplements, 3 seizure medications, 2 scoops of protein powder for calories, the medication for the bowel disease, the medication for the gut dysbiosis, and the 4 different probiotics to hopefully keep us from needing to go on yet another medication yet again because of more gut dysbiosis issues.<br />
<br />
Today.<br />
<br />
Where in between putting cream on the acid rash in his groin because of yeast overgrowth despite the 4 different probiotics - I was on the internet searching for things I've yet to find. A neurologist who practices medicine more than they prescribe medication. An answer to address all these issues he has that we can't seem to address. A day program for if our new insurance doesn't cover his therapy center any longer. A respite program that provides recreation for my son, so that while my husband and I enjoy much needed time alone, our son can have fun and not just be stuck at home.<br />
<br />
Today.<br />
<br />
Seeing my adult son sit in the playhouse we made under the stairs for when our sons were little. <br />
<br />
Today.<br />
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My heart breaking yet again in how my adult son should be in college, not in a child's play house picking out just the right block to hold.<br />
<br />
Today.<br />
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Wondering if this will be the day something changes for our children, our adults, who are so affected by vaccine injury. Wondering when the tide of truth will finally turn in our favor.<br />
<br />
Today.<br />
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Haunted by his eyes and the lifetime of hardship they hold.<br />
<br />
Today.<br />
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Wondering how many more will have to join me in my today before things change.<br />
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<br />
Today.<br />
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Hanging on to the HOPEISM of a better tomorrow.<br /><br />Where no more children will be like my son...<br /><br />Who is VAXXED.Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-37648852939388099402015-12-24T08:16:00.001-08:002015-12-24T09:00:49.980-08:00Celebrating HOPEISM<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Talk About Curing Autism</b> </span><b style="color: #373e4d; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> ( <a href="https://www.facebook.com/talkaboutcuringautism/timeline" target="_blank">click here for TACA FB page</a> ) </b><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #373e4d; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">has been featuring pictures of those who have autism on their FB page, along with something their family is celebrating about them or their accomplishments. It is really touching to read and sure puts "Christmas" and "Christmas Gifts" in perspective. The families featured - their Christmas wish lists so very different than typical families. The things they celebrate, so very humble. As much as I <b>hate, hate, hate, LOATHE</b>, autism, I love the things it has taught me about life. Christmas is the hardest time of year for us because of autism. Nothing about "Autism" can appreciate or tolerate "Christmas." My son has no imagination to believe in or watch all the classic Santa movies. Visiting Santa at the mall one year resulted in Santa most likely being forever infertile from the meltdown! Brandon has no concept of gift list and at present straws are the only toys that would even be listed if he could write.... Parties at other people's house? No thank you. Holiday treats? Only if GFCFSF, Paleo, non-GMO, no sugar, artificial anything, no preservatives, and it must comply with the ketogenic diet. Hence why we don't get out much at Christmas. Our life with "true autism" can tolerate nothing about Christmas. I worked very hard to even be able to have trees and decorations for this season. Typically my house is bare all year long.
Yet despite all of those issues, this is the most wonderful time of year for me because of how Brandon has taught me how to cherish Christmas. The true meaning and spirit of Christmas. Which is found in none of those things listed above that Brandon cannot tolerate. It is found in the simplicity of Bob Cratchit's family sitting in their humble house that wasn't filled with gifts or food, but rather overflowing in love. It is found in little Tiny Tim, "the least of these", who toasted Scrooge with a smile on his face and who in church said these words that Mr. Cratchit shared with his family:<i><b> "He hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."
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When I saw what Talk About Curing Autism was doing, in highlighting the things parents are celebrating in their child this Christmas -- I knew which picture of Brandon I would pick. This one. Our "celebration" is very different than what you will read from others. In our particular brand of "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of Trauma" -- we celebrate not any one particular victory, but rather <b>HOPEISM</b>. Brandon still has significant daily struggles with autism, seizures, and the trauma they bring to his body. We have tried many things that have not healed him. We have gone through many doctors who have not helped him. What we do celebrate with him this Christmas and each day is how he survives. How despite all he must endure, he still smiles. Oh how we simply celebrate his smile this year! How finally after more than a year of searching, we found a dentist who would restore that smile that shines so brightly the rare times we see it. We celebrate our never quit warrior mentality in trying to help him that is driven by the fact that Brandon has no option to quit his autism. We celebrate how we are still standing despite how very many times autism and seizures and trauma have tried to knock us down for the count. We celebrate the one autism doctor we have who has not abandoned us when the going got tough. Who is still in it to win it for Brandon despite how many times we have lost. We celebrate the friends who have stood by us and who have not abandoned us. We celebrate all who work tirelessly and at great personal sacrifice to share the truth about autism. We celebrate all who continue to pray us through.
And tonight, on Christmas Eve, we will celebrate those who make it a tradition to come to our home to sing Christmas Carols for us because it is simply too much for us to attempt a Christmas Eve service at church.
Much like what little Tiny Tim was sharing about in going to church on Christmas -- we simply celebrate Brandon and how he teaches us the true meaning of Christmas, and we celebrate the HOPEISM that Christmas brings. <b>How Jesus' Birth on Christmas Day gives us HOPEISM</b> in knowing that even though we have not seen those prayers of healing answered, nor any one great accomplishment in Brandon this year other than surviving more seizures than we care to tally, --- that those prayers will be answered.
Those accomplishments will come.
Jesus can make the lame walk, the mute speak, and the blind see.
He can heal autism and stop seizures.
<b>We celebrate that we will never quit believing that.</b></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #faf8f5; line-height: 22.8571px;"><b>
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</span>Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-87817753046694864212015-09-25T14:16:00.000-07:002015-09-25T14:16:26.708-07:00Run toward the Roar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My friend Laura has a blog titled, "Between the Sacred and Mundane." I remember the first time I read those words being so very moved by them. I had no idea what that phrase meant, but it seemed to have such great meaning. In fact, on my "Life with Autism" blog, I blogged about the title of her blog and what it meant to me in my "Life with Autism."<br /><br />Recently I read a book titled, <i>"Through the Eyes of a Lion" </i>by Levi Lusko. It too moved me as no book has in a while. I guess because his book was about loss. The loss of his young daughter to heaven, the loss of my son to autism while still here on earth. It wasn't a "feel good" book in the typical sense of the word. It was a real book, of real emotions, of real hurting. A book my reality could relate to.<br /><br />In reading his book, I have come to better understand the title of my friend's blog title. In his book, he speaks of the <i>"space between promise and fulfillment. Living with your heart set on heaven but your feet still on earth is not easy." </i><br />
The sacred of heaven. <br /><br />The mundane of this earth.<br /><br />No matter how far from actual mundane to us our trials are, they are still simply mundane compared to the sacred of heaven. <br /><br />I try to keep that in perspective, but this has really solidified that for me. How that space between promise and fulfillment is not just an endless time of trials, of waiting, of wanting. How that space between the sacred and mundane is not without purpose.<br /><br />He speaks of that space as simply Saturday.<br /><br />In the time between the brutal death on the cross on Friday...and the glorious resurrection of our Savior on Sunday.... there was Saturday..... A day of <i>"crushing disappointment when promises had been made but were not yet fulfilled."</i> I have been in that place quite often before reading this book and actually having a name for what I would just call, "<i>wth</i>?" It's simply Saturday. The day where Mary was in total dismay at what was done to her son, but who knew the ultimate ending of that very bad awful chapter of the book. To me, Saturday is this time where we have prayed all the prayers we know to pray, but they have yet to be answered. Friday gives us the faith and HOPEISM to pray them because we know Sunday will come when God promises to fulfill them. Answer them. But the waiting........the endless Saturday. If the disappointments of Saturday were an endurance sport, I would be an Olympic Gold Medalist.... If the valor with which Brandon warriors through his Saturday's were recognized, he would be given the Medal of Honor.<br /><br />The things I most love in Levi's book, are those simple sentences that seem to put our Saturday in perspective. <br /><br />Things like --<br /><br /><i>"This is how God rolls. He puts to use what he puts us through."<br /><br />"Suffering isn't an obstacle to being used by God. It is an opportunity to be used like never before."</i><br />He illustrates that with Acts 9:15-16 where he shares <i>"There are two elements we must not miss: (1) Paul would be <b>used powerfully</b>, and (2) Paul would <b>suffer greatly</b>.</i><br />Saturday is that in between. Where if we would remain hopeful and steadfast, God promises to give us beauty for ashes, strength for fear, gladness for sorrow, and peace for despair. Where if we choose to forge forward and not retreat, we can turn our mayhem into our Ministry.<br /><br />In our "Life with Autism" we have suffered greatly. All of us have. But I do see from reading this book how we have also been used powerfully in sharing our HOPEISM, in running this race with peseverance. Perhaps we've not run a very pretty, perfect, or graceful race, but we've never quit. And I think that's what matters most. We are crushed by the "Life with Autism, Seizures, and a side of Trauma" of Friday, we are weary of the disappointments and defeats of Saturday, but above all, we keep <i>running to the roar </i>of the HOPEISM Sunday brings.<br />
<br />I think that's why I was so moved by this picture I chose for this blog.<br /><br />It represents the darkness of our Saturday.<br /><br />And the light of Sunday to come.<br /><br />In this picture is our son. Our twenty-two year old son who has been living with autism since he regressed at two years old. Our twenty-two year old son who has been living with seizures on and off since age nine. Constantly with no significant reprieve since August 2010. In this picture is our son who for sensory reasons needs to be in that familiar chair each time he is made to endure an unfamiliar situation. In this picture is our son who cannot read, write, or speak. Who has more ICD-10 codes than any human should ever have in their entire lifetime. Who is going for yet another dental sedation procedure to have his teeth fixed yet again from yet another fall during yet another seizure. Who at this very time is sitting in that stroller with a fractured in three places collarbone from one of those yet another seizures.<br /><br />In this picture is a faithful father who has known the loss of a child. Perhaps not to heaven, but to something possibly more hellish. To every day love with the fierceness of a lion the boy he sees, but to know each and every moment of each and every day the boy who could have been. To have to take him to an operating room for a procedure most children can do in a simple dental visit. Taking that walk beside him down the hall of a hospital instead of ever walking with him down the aisle of his wedding.<br /><br />As I stood there in the hall taking that picture of them going into the operating room, I couldn't help but be in total belief of that all too familiar scene before me. Of all he has gone through, is going through at present, and watching him on his way to endure more.<br /><br />I don't know if there are words to truly convey the impossible pain of that reality, which is another reason I love Levi's book so much. <br /><br />This simple statement ---<br /><br /><b style="font-style: italic;">"The more impossible your pain, the more incredible the power he will bring out of it."</b><br /><br />This picture represents that to me. Just knowing all our son in that picture must go through, must feel that we don't know about, and seeing how bravely he endures. How deeply he trusts. Just knowing how many times we've wanted to just quit, but didn't. How many times we've had no choice but to trust, and how many times God has faithfully delivered.<br /><br /><i>"God always grants incredible power to those called to face impossible pain."</i><br /><br />God has always been faithful. That Brandon is even alive, is our greatest testimony in that. There is purpose in his journey whether we understand it or not. If we've learned anything at all in our Saturday, it has been that.<br /><br />I don't know how long we'll have to continue to muddle our way through this mess, mayhem, and mundane of Saturday --- but I know that it will not last forever.<br />
<br />The Sacred of Sunday will come.<br /><br />When those small victories and miracles and precious moments of joy we have been blessed by in our Saturday - will pale in comparison to the celebration and healing of Sunday.<br /><br />Until then --<br /><br /><i><b>"Run toward the roar with all your heart until you stand before him face-to-face." </b></i><br /><br />That is what this picture represents to me.<br /><br />How no matter what we must face, Team Guppy will face it together. <br /><br />We will run toward the roar.<br /><br />NDCQ<br /><br />HOOYAH!Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-18093038186348264132015-07-30T20:51:00.002-07:002015-07-30T20:51:31.173-07:00Ambition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><br />Today was a day of reflection.<br /><br />I tossed and turned last night at one part of a conversation my husband had shared with me from the day before. He was speaking with someone trying to work some things out, and in the middle of that conversation, the person said, <i>"We have ambitions....". </i> Nothing more was said in explanation of what those ambitions were and what place they had in the conversation, and the conversation I guess resumed with the topic before that simple statement was shared.<br /><br />But I've thought about it ever since.<br /><br /><i>"We have ambitions."</i><br /><br />Knowing this person, I can say with a relatively secure confidence that those ambitions revolve around status, income, travel, and early retirement. Heck, if I weren't in the position I am in, with "Life with Autism" -- those would have been my ambitions too. So while I can't fault that person for that, I can reflect on what I have learned. How I have been changed by my son Brandon and his severe vaccine injury.<br /><br />It was sad to think though, what my husband might have thought if he could freeze the conversation after that remark. At what he would think his ambitions were if not for our life with autism. I'm sure he could have come up with many ambitions, none of them including carrying his limp son upstairs after a seizure, shaving that twenty-two year old son, or assisting him with toileting issues. I'm sure they would be to work out for pleasure, and not for the sole purpose of living as long as he can to care for his son. Perhaps to have the money he earns go for Brandon's college and not lifelong care, eternal medical bills, and a myriad of autism expenses. To be able to use some of it for a vacation to the lake to kayak, let alone world travel. Retirement at any point, now there's an elusive ambition! <br /><br />I can't even go there to think what my own ambitions might have been in another world....but I'm sure getting hate mail from vaccine trolls wasn't on the list. I'm sure banging my head on my desk daily in total disgust at mainstream doctors wasn't on that list. And I'm for darn sure missing most appointments I dare to schedule because of vaccine injury seizures wasn't on that list!<br /><br />I woke up with all those thoughts of the day before and those three simple words that so moved me: <i>we have ambitions.</i> <i>My ambition</i> on this day, was to get Brandon to school on time for us, which is an hour and a half late. Then I would go swim laps. It's a luxury for me to get to do that. Because of seizures, I don't get to very often. But then as Brandon was standing at the kitchen counter eating a piece of his breakfast, I turned from making his lunch just in time to catch him as he was falling backwards. <br /><br />And with that, sitting on the tile floor in the kitchen waiting for the seizure to subside, went my ambitions for the day. Since he had fallen in the kitchen, I could only bring his gymnastics landing mat in there and make a bed for him to sleep off the seizure. My office is upstairs, so every ten minutes or so I would go down the stairs to the landing where I could see him in the kitchen and make sure he was still sleeping, still breathing.<br /><br />I was feeling pretty bummed that I would miss getting to lap swim, again, but then as I looked at him laying so innocently on the kitchen floor, I thought again about those words, <i>we have ambitions.</i><br /><br />I smiled.<br /><br />Right there in the picture before me, was my ambition. <br /><br />Where I once had worldly ambitions, I now have more grounded ones. More purposeful ones. I wake each day and do all I can to right the wrongs that have been done to my son. Speak truth in a sea of lies. Help others in my autism community, encourage them, inspire them, advocate with them. Instill NDCQ in them! Give hope through my HOPEISM! I spend my time seeking ways within my means to help my son be the best he can be. The most independent he can be. When I think that isn't enough, I look at where I was, who I was, and where I am now and who Brandon has forged me into becoming --- and how it is more than enough. <br /><br />And I think that more than any ambition I have in helping my son have more good Brandon days than bad autism days -- is the thankfulness I have in the ambitions of others. Those whose ambition it is to help those like me. No great profit, no lofty titles, no recognition. Just a desire to help others who need it most. The desire to give selflessly of their time and money instead of working toward profit and prestige. Sometimes in the enormity of autism, my appreciation of that gets lost. I get so wrapped up in all the worldly ambitions I can't achieve, and forget what it really is that matters. <br /><br />And on the days when my lofty ambitions of bringing down the vaccine industry and seeing the corruption of the CDC called out in Congressional Hearings and defeating Nazi-like vaccine bills fail, and I don't make it to lap swim or anything else I had planned, my greatest ambition will be to simply be there to catch my son should he fall. <br /><br /><br /><br />I think Erma Bombeck said it best with one of her last quotes. She was speaking of deeds, but I will insert the word ambition...<br /><br /><i><b>My ambition will be measured not by my youthful appearance, but by the concern lines on my forehead, the laugh lines around my mouth, and the chins from seeing what can be done for those smaller than me or who have fallen.</b></i><br /><br />Those other ambitions I had, even if I could accomplish them, are but dust.<br /><br />These ambitions, are forever.<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-47831168865080671812014-10-15T07:06:00.003-07:002014-10-15T08:49:59.352-07:00An Angel named Fred<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I like to think that as long as I'm still fighting, I never truly lose. As long as I'm moving toward the goal of victory, I'm still in the battle. As long as I NEVER QUIT, I will still have HOPEISM. So for any given day in my "Life with Autism" it's more which direction I'm moving. The check mark at the end of the day in the "forward" column, or the "two steps back" column. <br />
<br />
There's a whole lot of check marks in the "two steps back" column lately... But today, I got to put a check mark in the "forward" column. And a very overdue one at that. There is so much that autism steals from my son. So many things he can't do. Which is why I was overjoyed when finally we received funding and a slot for him to begin Hippotherapy. Finally, he could do something most everyone who wants to, can do. Ride a horse. The chance for him to break the monotony of school then home. The chance for him to go somewhere, do something, be free, and have fun. But so far it's been anything but. When we're not missing a week due to seizures on horse-riding day, it's a cut-short riding day because he won't stay on the horse or can't tolerate the helmet. It's been frustrating. We've had one or two good riding days, but the rest....sigh. The therapist and volunteers deserve such praise for their patience and persistence. The last riding day we were able to attend, I left in tears as I argued silently with God in that why, why couldn't he at least have this one hour per week that autism doesn't ruin. After that day we were told they would try another horse next time. Brandon's constant squeezing of Annie was confusing and upsetting her. <br />
<br />
So this week, today, we were to try a new horse. I almost cancelled today because he had a seizure yesterday, his behavior has been off the charts bad, and I figured why bother. We'll miss a day of school to just go there and come right back home. I don't think I could have had a worse attitude about today if I tried. But, misery likes to be validated, so I picked him up from school and we went for it.<br />
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<br />Brandon met Fred. A bigger and stronger horse. Last session it was agreed that I was to walk along with them to see if that would help Brandon be settled, so I did. But Brandon didn't need to be settled. I don't know if it was just our lucky day, if it was Fred, or if Brandon really enjoyed it. All I know is that Brandon got on the horse and never tried to get off and never messed with his helmet. One time he got a bit upset, but that was it.<br />
<br />
I had such low expectations of today, I didn't even bring my good camera.<br />
<br />
This picture was taken with my cell phone. I eventually quit walking with them because Brandon was doing fine. I thought I would try to capture whatever pictures I could. It was a bright, clear, beautiful day and when they came out from in the woods the sun lit up that horse and I instantly knew why he was doing so good on this day. It was<i> the Son</i> shining down on that white horse and lighting it up with the brightness of peace and calmness for Brandon. In past days, weeks, and months of nothing but such disappointment and struggle, it was God sending a shining reminder of HOPEISM for me through an Angel named Fred.<br />
<br />
The HOPEISM that in the middle of CDC Whistleblower stalling, media blackouts, twitter parties and anti-vax/pro-vax wars, among all the seizures and sickness and weary warriors, that God's grace and glory still glows. <br />
<br />
And some days, like today, shines so brightly it's overwhelming. I left there in tears again. But this time, the good ones. The humble ones. The very, very, thankful ones.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow may be another check in the "two steps back" column, next week may not be such a good horse riding week, but that's ok. I'll keep trudging forward no matter what sets me back.<br />
<br />
NDCQ!<br />
<br />
HOOYAH!<br />
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<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-47734983673277571192014-09-08T19:25:00.001-07:002014-09-08T19:38:32.403-07:00The lion who had no courage.<br />
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<br />
Doing away with vanity & dignity tonight. <br />
<br />
I'm sure Brandon would forgive me if perhaps it would make one member of the mainstream media try and help him... I doubt they'll ever see this, much like I doubt today's seizures would be the last. But, one can hope.... <br />
<br />
He's had seizures yet again today...and finally at 8pm he tried to get up. He's been on the gymnastics mat on the floor of his bedroom right where he landed from the first seizure in falling out of bed this morning. Most parents have the luxury of waking up to the sound of an alarm. I frequently wake up to the sound of choking, some body part banging against the wall, or a loud thud as he hits the floor. I met him in the hallway and by the look in his eyes I knew we better go back in his room and not dare try and go downstairs. It's hard to describe seeing your child like that. Hungry, or perhaps thirsty, wanting to just go downstairs to eat or drink, yet somehow not understanding why his body just isn't willing to do what his mind wants. So, back in his room, we sat on the bench at the foot of his bed and I gave him his beloved straws and we listened to music. He dropped his straw and I watched as he tried to get it. His arm jerked this way and that. Eyes focused on the straw, arm focused on anything but. I was about to call down and ask Todd to bring something up for him to drink. To try and get some few precious calories in. But too late. The arm started jerking again, his head slumped, and his entire body curled up in a ball and started to convulse right there on the bench in my arms. All I could do was try and keep him steady and his head against my chest. When it was over, he just laid there in my arms. Me and my bad hair day... One flip flop on and one off.... Him in a pull up because when one is knocked out for the day one can't go to the bathroom. When Todd got upstairs from hearing him have a seizure, I asked him to take this picture. I want the media to see who it is they are silencing by refusing to report on the CDC Whistleblower story. I want them to see just how "vaccines save lives" actually plays out in real life. I want them to see what the trade off of acute recoverable illnesses for chronic lifelong debilitating illnesses looks like. And as much as they try to ignore it, that trade off does have a face. And there are thousands of them. I want them to see this and be brave enough to look me in the eye and ask me which I would rather my son have had - a miserable two week ugly rash in measles that would provide a lifetime of immunity and a stronger immune system for having survived it; or a lifetime of illness and seizures and a weakened immune system. And I want them to show that answer to the world.<br />
<br />
I want them to see who they have forsaken as an accomplice to their preservation of Pharma's fairytale illusions of health, herd immunity, and the greater good.<br />
<br />
His seizure may have been in my arms - but make no mistake mainstream media -- the tears I've cried in begging God to end this nightmare of CDC corruption and fraud, his seizures, his pain, his lifelong illness -- is all in your hands.<br />
<br />
Perhaps the only thing worse than your silence in his suffering, is how the only voices you have allowed, are from those who profit from or force through mandates -- his suffering.<br />
<br />
You can't see it, but on the wall behind me is a scripture verse that says, <b><i>"Love....bears all things believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things...."</i></b><br />
<br />
As I sat there holding my son, I wondered how many more seizures his body can bear.<br />
<br />
I wondered how much more we parents must be made to endure.<br />
<br />
I wondered if I had anything left in me to dare to allow myself to hope, to believe, that justice would come to him in my lifetime.<br />
<br />
The justice Congressional Hearings and convictions would bring.<br />
<br />
You could do that mainstream media.<br />
<br />
You could help us call for those.<br />
<br />
But you don't.<br />
<br />
It would be better for you to be a tin man with no heart or a scarecrow with no brain, than to be a lion with no courage.<br /><br />Sadly for a generation of children, you're all three.<br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-67171046255714930872014-06-17T21:24:00.005-07:002014-06-17T21:24:57.363-07:00The Indomitable Warrior<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today was one of those crazy, mad, wonderful days in <i>Life with Autism</i>... <br /><br />I've worked so hard and so long to get Brandon back in Hippotherapy... For him to get out of the four walls of his home, his school, and do something that would hopefully help him and bring him happiness. Our ride time is at 11am on Tuesday. For eight glorious Tuesday's this summer, we get to do something different. Our 1st ride went better than expected, you can view that story and those pictures <b><a href="http://hopeism.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-joy-of-joyride.html" target="_blank">by clicking this link.</a></b><br />
<br />
Last Tuesday would have been our 2nd session, but he woke up with seizures and we had to cancel. I was heartbroken. We finally found something we could do, and of all days, he would have a seizure on Tuesday.<br /><br />Today is Tuesday, our 3rd session. He woke up having another seizure. Surely I should play the lottery or something... My only consolation today, was that they actually needed to cancel as well, as his ride therapist had a sick child and there was no substitute.<br /><br />So, the day was spent gardening and caring for a recovering Brandon... When Todd got home after work, I went for a ride to the country to visit a friend and trade some of my abundant tomato harvest for some of her abundant fresh egg harvest. You can view those pictures of my "country therapy" <a href="http://hopeism.blogspot.com/2014/06/a-few-moments-in-country.html" target="_blank">by clicking here.</a><br />
<br />
<br />When I returned home, my warrior son was up from his seizure. He ate some food and even took all his supplements. Typically we lose a whole day of food and supplements. But not today, he was able to get up and eat.<br /><br />I captured this picture while he was in the tub...<br /><br />It struck me so profoundly what an indomitable warrior spirit he has. This morning gasping for air and choking after a seizure, this evening laughing and smiling in the tub. It's obvious in the picture that just a few days ago from yet another fall, he broke off the bond on his front tooth. The bond that was put there from a previous seizure fall. I think we're on our third or fourth front tooth fix now. I lost count. I just know that I have been so crushed each time it happens because it seems like it just never ends for Brandon. The seizures, the falls, the breaks, the pain, the obstacles.<br /><br />But today, taking this picture, it also occurred to me as well, how something else about him never ends as well....<br /><br />His indomitable warrior spirit.<br /><br />His ability to laugh and smile through anything.<br /><br />I should learn to do no less.<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-35948678543939115122014-04-29T09:29:00.001-07:002014-04-29T09:29:32.710-07:00He's my son...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I like to pick pictures for this blog that stand out and speak for themselves. Where I don't need many words to tell the story -- just the picture. Though who am I kidding, I always end up using many words! Today was one of those days where the picture speaks for itself. The recovery room of Day Surgery. Simple procedures made so complicated by autism and sensory issues. So after a year and a half waiting on a waiting list for a dental exam, teeth cleaning, and x-rays, today was our day to finally have that done. Yet again. We should have some sort of "Fast Pass" card like they have at theme parks, but for these multiple Day Surgery type procedures we've had to have done through the years, and no doubt will for years to come. Without thinking too hard, I can count at least eighteen of these types of situations we've been in, and our son is only twenty years old. No matter how bad or easy they end up going, the result is the same. My adrenals are shot by the time it's over. But mercifully, today was different thanks to our entire church praying us though it, an entire autism community of friends praying and wishing us well though it. It went really smooth. Which is rare. It's how it should be, but often isn't. Todd and I even had moments of crazy, mad, wonderful sitting in the waiting room taking selfies and laughing hysterically at all the bad pictures. I was laughing so hard I could hardly hold the camera steady, which resulted in a whole other set of blurry out takes! As I shared in a Facebook post, I'm truly surprised someone didn't ask us to leave. We were laughing <i>loud.</i> Which is another rare event in our "Life with Autism" as typically it's Brandon's humming or stomping that is loud. Not the carefree laughter of us parents enjoying a few stolen moments together. <br /><br />But this picture...<br /><br />It says so much to me as I was standing there taking it. Todd was sitting there leaning on the bed rail just watching Brandon. Praying for him I'm sure. Thanking God for the smooth sailing of the day. And then Brandon woke up and he was just laying there looking at his Dad. It was such a beautiful moment to witness. I'll never in this life know what Brandon was thinking when he woke up and saw his Daddy. Did he feel reassured that he was there. Did he feel confused wondering where he was. I cringe asking myself the question I feel most heartache about......in wondering if he truly knows and understands who we are and how much we love him. Just what his daddy would do for him. Some can say they <i>would </i>lay down their life for their child. Brandon's daddy has. He has given his everything for him. This man who is tough enough to attempt the "tough mudder" this year, this warrior who escapes suburban life each night he can to lace up his combat boots to run in the woods through the mud and bushes in the dark of night. This man who can do anything, fix anything, but who is driven to his knees in prayers because he knows how helpless he is on his own to help his son. This man who knows that with the demands of autism, he will never be first as he should be. Never have empty nest for us to reclaim all those years autism has stolen. This man who will never get to retire because of the lifelong, mounting expenses of autism.<br /><br />In this month of April, nothing makes me more aware of what autism does to a family than that. But as I've learned in all these years living that "Life with Autism" - I saw too yesterday in that picture, just how much wonderful there has been in our crazy, mad of autism. We had moments of togetherness sitting in the waiting room. Our only respite in weeks spent sitting in the corner of a packed waiting room taking goofy pictures of ourselves and laughing hysterically. We didn't have to tag team anything. We didn't have to redirect Brandon, get up and do anything for him. We could just sit together for more than ten seconds at a time and we could get out more than two words at a time without being interrupted by <i>hmmmmmmmmmm</i>. We could for the first time in a while focus on our "other" son and the joys and heartaches of his journey thus far. We could sit quietly and know we each were thinking how thankful we are for how we have survived. For <i>who</i> has helped us survive. Blessed by how we have been able to thrive.<br />
<br /> But still that picture.<br /><br />As this month and all the ugliness, non-awareness, and inaction that was represented by it comes to an end, I look at this picture and am simply thankful to have a husband who loves this boy with all he has. Who has given his life for him. Who has given his all in prayer for him. Who sings this song in his heart to God for him...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"He's My Son"</b><br />
<br />
I'm down on my knees again tonight,<br />
I'm hoping this prayer will turn out right.<br />
See, there is a boy that needs Your help.<br />
I've done all that I can do myself<br />
His mother is tired,<br />
I'm sure You can understand.<br />
Each night as he sleeps<br />
She goes in to hold his hand,<br />
And she tries<br />
Not to cry<br />
As the tears fill her eyes.<br />
<br />
Can You hear me?<br />
Am I getting through tonight?<br />
Can You see him?<br />
Can You make him feel all right?<br />
If You can hear me<br />
Let me take his place some how.<br />
See, he's not just anyone, he's my son.<br />
<br />
Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep,<br />
I dream of the boy he'd like to be.<br />
I try to be strong and see him through,<br />
But God, who he needs right now is You.<br />
Let him grow old,<br />
Live life without this fear.<br />
What would I be<br />
Living without him here?<br />
He's so tired,<br />
And he's scared<br />
Let him know that You're there.<br />
<br />
Can You hear me?<br />
Am I getting through tonight?<br />
Can You see him?<br />
Can You make him feel all right?<br />
If You can hear me<br />
Let me take his place some how.<br />
See, he's not just anyone, he's my son.<br />
<br />
Can You hear me?<br />
Can You see him?<br />
Please don't leave him,<br />
He's my son.
</div>
<br />
<br />I know that God hears him.<br /><br />But I wonder when anyone will hear us?<br /><br />I wonder when April will be different for my son, all of our children?<br /><br />To our nation, society, the schools, the medical community, government agencies, service providers, and even most autism organizations....<br /><br /><i>Can you hear us?<br />Can you see them?<br />Are we getting through?<br />Can you make him feel all right?<br />Please don't ignore them,<br />They're our children.</i>Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-3811260651280879182014-04-17T12:49:00.001-07:002017-01-28T07:13:45.550-08:00Back to the future.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Apgar 9/10. <br />
<br />
That's as close to a perfectly healthy baby as you can get. <br />
<br />
And the first thing that must change in how we do things if we are to keep our children who were born healthy, healthy through life.<br />
<br />
Look at the picture again. Everything about my son's birth screamed "healthy" - "normal."<br />
<br />
He <i>was</i> healthy!<br />
<br />
So why? <br />
<br />
Why in the world did I ever allow a medical establishment tell me that to keep him healthy, I would have to inject him with unhealthy chemicals and viruses and antibiotics and neurotoxins? I wish I could get in my time machine and go back to the past, not allow what I allowed, and then go into the future to see what different outcome I would have. What would have happened had I just "gone home and loved him" when he was born instead of hearing my Pediatrician tell me those words after he was diagnosed with autism? After all those "well visits" I dutifully attended where my healthy baby was injected with harmful illnesses, which in fact, did not make him healthy, but rather made him sick. What would have happened if I had only gone to my Pediatrician when my son was sick with something that couldn't be treated at home and left to run its harmless course? What would have happened if as a Christian I would have simply believed that God would not have created a healthy baby to need any other immune system protection than what a Mother's breast milk could provide?<br />
<br />
<i>I guess I'll never know.</i><br />
<br />
You can scream "vaccines save lives" all you want - but in this day and age of sanitation, healthy food, and knowledge of how to eat properly for optimal health, that simply doesn't fly. <br />
<br />
Right now, vaccines chronically maim more lives than they save from acute illnesses that most would overcome with no lasting effects.<br />
<br />
On that printout above that I took a picture of, the rest of the twelve pages is a painstaking detailed chronology of each doctor visit my son had. You parents of today have it so easy, now most doctor's notes are typed in. I had to spend hours upon hours deciphering caveman chicken scratch!<br />
<br />
* That office visit is dated 1/4 when my son was born.<br />
* The next office visit was 1/14 -- HepB-1 vaccine.<br />
* The next office visit was 2/21 -- for thrush and congestion<br />
* The next office visit was 3/3 -- DTP-1, Hib-1, OPV-1, 1PV-1, HepB-2. Smiles, occasionally sleeps through night.<br />
* The next office visit was 5/5 -- more multiple vaccines. Rolling, reaching and bringing things to midline.<br />
* The next office visit was 6/21 -- more thrush, plus diaper rash, and eczema.<br />
* The next office visit was 6/30 -- for more multiple vaccines and more steroid cream for a worse rash. Crawling.<br />
<br />
He had thrush, yet with no time to recover from that or from the previous visit's multiple vaccinations, he was given more vaccinations and as a result had worsening conditions.<br /><br />The eczema. It clearly states in textbooks that eczema is an autoimmune disorder and you should not ever vaccinate anyone with eczema or an autoimmune disorder - yet he was.<br />
<br />
The rest of the pages are more of the same. Ear infections, antibiotics, and my favorite, a fever the day I brought him in for ear infection recheck, and he received three more multiples on that visit. You don't vaccinate a sick child! I didn't know that then, but the doctor should have.<br />
<br />
After that the diarrhea begins.<br />
<br />
His language ends.<br />
<br />
Receiving two rounds of MMR vaccinations before 30 months of age is what I believe was the nail in his coffin.<br />
<br />
All I can ask myself over and over and over, is, "Why?" Why did I allow that? Why didn't I know better? Why did an alarm not go off and tell me to put the brakes on more insults to his immune system until the first insult was healed? Why are we taking our healthy newborns and exposing them to things that are anything but healthy?<br />
<br />
I guess that's how "Thinking Mom's" are born. When you start to question. When you start thinking for yourself. When you begin doing your own research -- from independent sources not backed by Pharma or the Vaccine Industry.<br />
<br />
So that I can sleep better at night, I like to think I allowed that because I didn't know any better. I didn't. I had no reason to. I didn't know anyone with autism.<br />
<br />
New mom's today?<br />
<br />
There's no excuse. Ask. There are so many moms who have children with autism that you know of, who you can ask. Ask them. Ask them what you can do different. What to avoid. We will gladly tell you. Research. There is an abundance of independent information out there to refute the propaganda spewed from those who profit more off sick children then they do healthy children.<br />
<br />
With all the information about contraindications for vaccinations, it is each new parents duty to think for themselves before blindly following a protocol that needs to be seriously re-evaluated. No, not re-evaluated, simply thrown out.<br />
<br />
My "mommy alarm" should have screamed loudly on January 14, 1994 when I allowed my Pediatrician to vaccinate my healthy baby against a disease that he could only get if he was sexually active or used dirty needles. Neither of which is applicable to a ten day old baby. And even if one day he did either of those things, that vaccination protection would be long gone. <br />
<br />
I spent hours scouring Consumer Reports, consulting with friends, doing my own research on the best and safest cribs, high chairs, car seats. But I spent a whopping total of <i>zero</i> seconds independently researching the reason for, ingredients of, or potential long term side effects of what I allowed to be injected in my child.<br />
<br />
When your "mommy alarm" sounds -- don't let anyone silence it.<br />
<br />
Because you cannot in fact, go back.<br />
<br />
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<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-12514075194268691372014-04-16T19:59:00.004-07:002014-04-16T20:01:29.838-07:00Waiting for something different...I guess my disclaimer on this post should be that I actually did let my emotions calm down for like a week before I wrote it. This is actually, the edited version from what I wanted to say to what I did say.<br />
<br />
Autism Awareness month is supposed to bring me such hope, such help. But sadly for so many, it does neither. So I once again find myself inextricably drawn to a personal project that helps me make sense of it all; because quite frankly I find myself wondering if my son really has autism at all by the time other autism organizations get done with this month. I mean, they make it look so glamorous that "autism" can't be what my son has.<br />
<br />
According them, my son's autism is something to be celebrated and "lit up blue". Everyone who wants to help someone is supposed to "go blue" and give lots of "green."<br />
<br />
I guess I thought this month was supposed to mean something different.<br />
<br />
Perhaps I'm wrong.<br />
<br />
With all the celebration, lights, and picture perfect pictures of picture perfect kids - I'm thinking I need to have some more kids, "vax them up" and have more reasons to celebrate.<br />
<br />
Perhaps I've just been on this journey too long. Don't mistake my cynicism for depression or hopelessness. Credit it for being tired of the status quo.<br />
<br />
I can so relate to my son in this picture. This is what this month represents to me. It makes me want to hide under a blanket and not come out until May 1st. I think it rather ironic that it symbolizes what this month does for our most severely affected children as well -- hides them and their real issues. Their real needs. It neatly tucks away the fact that we should be mourning the epidemic and protesting the senseless, greedy, misinformed acts that caused this tragedy to steal our children's health. Not celebrating.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLW__U9SerRWKvZQ9CN1JWtA_UyLIBHGqntsH4mfSm2qNLNN8uPrQxAmCC_fQPPeToQmHUQGxCxUl4YAjrApc2cl4XS37QVoqTdu6TgZwo-OsMWSYQZZxOHAELashAycONFQQFF6YGYtP/s1600/IMG_1070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLW__U9SerRWKvZQ9CN1JWtA_UyLIBHGqntsH4mfSm2qNLNN8uPrQxAmCC_fQPPeToQmHUQGxCxUl4YAjrApc2cl4XS37QVoqTdu6TgZwo-OsMWSYQZZxOHAELashAycONFQQFF6YGYtP/s320/IMG_1070.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
I've never been shy about my faith in God. For me, my HOPEISM comes from Him, and Him alone. That is what allows me to see all the good and perfect in my son. That is what gives me such peace -- knowing there is a planner, plan, and purpose in his autism. <br />
<br />
I've devoted my entire "Life with Autism" blog to sharing that kind of hope, inspiration, encouragement. That is for everyday. That is for posting to others each day to encourage them in their journey.<br />
<br />
But for this month of April, in this "Life with Autism" I must live, the kind of hope I need comes from action that translates into help. Help gives hope. Awareness is action. Not more facts about autism.<br />
<br />
I personally see autism organizations not understanding what April needs to be for so very many of us. Or if they do, I'm just not seeing it. It's not about an agenda, it's not about what's popular. It's not about what will be safe. It's not about being politically correct. It's not about any of those things. It must be about exposing the truth of what causes autism and a national action plan for the entire month that we all can get behind in some way, shape, or form.<br />
<br />
<br />
So for me, for my son who I promised before a Judge during his guardianship hearing that I would advocate for and care for - I created this blog especially for this month to show pictures that represent certain aspects of his autism that need awareness, action, change. Because at the end of the day, it's not about having been politically correct, it's not about whether I made friends or enemies, it's not whether I wasn't positive enough or if I was too negative. It's not about anything but what I did to try and help my son now and for his future when I'm no longer here. At the end of the day, it's him I must answer to. Not a donor, not a board of directors, and not a seat on a committee.<br />
<br />
My hope is that next year when I have to update his yearly guardianship form, on the question that asks, "Has the ward's quality of life diminished, remained the same, or improved" -- I'll have a better answer than this years reply of: "remained the same."<br />
<br />
As so many prior autism awareness months can answer as well ---<i><b>remained the same.</b></i> The core group of us who gave up an entire year or more of our lives in planning and promoting the first ever Autism Rally and Congressional Hearings - in April - did not do that so that over a decade later, the way we do April, National Autism Awareness month, would <b><i>remain the same</i></b>.<br />
<br />
Unlocking Autism didn't create their "Open your Eyes to Autism" picture boards so that over a decade later, April would <i><b>remain the same</b>.</i> The "A Call to Action" Quilt for Autism Awareness wasn't stitched together from quilt squares submitted from all over the world so that over a decade later, April would <b><i>remain the same</i></b>.<br />
<br />
If someone in this day and age - in April - needs to know what autism is, they can google it. We don't need to spend our time and resources going down that path. It's not a dirt road any longer. It's long been paved by the 1 in 500. The 1 in 150. The 1 in 110. The 1 in 88.<br />
<br />
Today, must our 1 in 68 continue to pave the same road to awareness or can we finally begin making tracks in the grass for a new road? <br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>Something different.</i></b><br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-38392808387887246292014-04-02T16:30:00.002-07:002014-04-02T16:40:20.971-07:00In a Moment's time...Today is Autism Awareness Day...<br />
<br />
I could say so much about that. And I have. On each of my blogs:<br />
<a href="http://www.michellemguppy.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Life with Autism</a><br />
<a href="http://30daysofautismawareness.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Thirty Steps in our Shoes</a><br />
<a href="http://lifewithautisminpictures.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Life with Autism in Pictures</a><br />
<br />
You can read about our Journey those places. And if you are a person of faith, you can read how I share our "Life with Autism" and how it has given us a deeper faith through this blog, <a href="http://godsworddaybyday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">God's word Day by Day</a>.<br />
<br />
But for today, I want to simply share this video. It is typical of our daily drives home from school each afternoon. Brandon loves the beat of the music. He has his favorites. Typically we listen to Country Music, but when we don't like the songs playing, we switch it to Christian music<br />
<br />
These are the lyrics to the song he is rocking out to. He was literally shaking my car. And I drive a big car for just that purpose. These lyrics will become much more meaningful to the video once you have read them...<br />
<br />
<b><i>Where I Belong:</i></b><br />
<br />
<b><i>Sometimes it feels like I'm watching from the outside<br />
Sometimes it feels like I'm breathing but am I alive<br />
I won't keep searching for answers that aren't here to find<br />
<br />
All I know is I'm not home yet<br />
This is not where I belong<br />
Take this world and give me Jesus<br />
This is not where I belong<br />
<br />
So when the walls come falling down on me<br />
And when I'm lost in the current of a raging sea<br />
I have this blessed assurance holding me.<br />
<br />
All I know is I'm not home yet<br />
This is not where I belong<br />
Take this world and give me Jesus<br />
This is not where I belong<br />
<br />
When the earth shakes I wanna be found in You<br />
When the lights fade I wanna be found in You<br />
<br />
All I know is I'm not home yet<br />
This is not where I belong<br />
Take this world and give me Jesus<br />
This is not where I belong</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
Now, watch the video...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://youtu.be/a6eIyAMFU9Y" target="_blank">Click here to view video</a><br />
<br />
Such happiness in those moments driving home. No other song that played did he have such a reaction to.<br />
<br />
We went home and with it being such a beautiful afternoon, we went out back so he could jump. I went inside to start his dinner, then heard a thump. I knew what that meant. I ran outside and found him face first in the middle of my garden having a Grand Mal seizure. In that split-second of getting to him and lifting him out of the dirt I can't even tell you what I thought of what this day means to me. The unfairness of it. The wrechedness of it. The evil of it in this sweet boy who was rocking out just a few moments earlier, who was now, in just a moment's time later, face first seizing with a mouth full of dirt.<br />
<br />
All I could think of was that song.<br />
<br />
<b><i>So when the walls come falling down on me<br />
And when I'm lost in the current of a raging sea<br />
I have this blessed assurance holding me.</i></b><br />
<br />
<b><i>All I know is I'm not home yet<br />This is not where I belong<br />Take this world and give me Jesus</i></b><br />
<b><i>This is not where I belong</i></b><br />
<br />
I can say this. I am thankful he landed where he did. I just built that little garden last weekend. The dirt in it was soft and fresh. He could have landed a few inches away and lost more teeth on those cement bricks. He could have landed a few inches above where he did and had his eye impaled with the tomato marker there.<br />
<br />
But he didn't. <br />
<br />
His head landed in the soft dirt in the middle of that oval garden bed you see in the picture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6w4AVeY2NGnu5vRdlmE9FgCv-JiG9s9E66ZGQZjHkg1UOpB8IT-REo-pzaoIP2dTgLGWczQ16TTWnhERomhHq5ssJApURvbe9tnyDPrifrZwpTjVA9jIjkObGWW5ffv5RTI-iYU5Bapt/s1600/1+Brandon+2+Seizure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6w4AVeY2NGnu5vRdlmE9FgCv-JiG9s9E66ZGQZjHkg1UOpB8IT-REo-pzaoIP2dTgLGWczQ16TTWnhERomhHq5ssJApURvbe9tnyDPrifrZwpTjVA9jIjkObGWW5ffv5RTI-iYU5Bapt/s1600/1+Brandon+2+Seizure.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I rolled him to a flat spot, dusted off all the dirt I could, and I sat
there beside him in the soft breeze on this World Autism Awareness Day
and waited for his Daddy to get home from work to help me get him
inside.<br />
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And as is so fitting on the day people were asked to "Light it up Blue" -- I remembered these lines from that song....<br />
<br />
<b><i>When the earth shakes I wanna be found in You<br />
When the lights fade I wanna be found in You</i></b><br />
<br />
Those blue lights will fade tomorrow, and nothing will have changed from having lit them. But everything in the life of someone with autism can change if each person directs their time and energy into something that actually matters and makes a difference. <br />
<br />
Watch that video again. Then look at the picture. That all happened in just a moment of time. <br />
<br />
Today was that kind of moment in time.<br />
<br />
One where so much could have been done by Autism Speaks.<br />
<br />
But yet again, nothing of any lasting meaning was.<br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-87726522034470838602014-02-24T07:47:00.001-08:002014-02-24T08:27:37.679-08:00On Mandating Parent Education on Vaccines.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbk5FrGlPuQLXz4JJjxmBctz_8-ARNcsX2J2jfLzVSvY7kpKGQo4481fWbvngzi_bVcbkWHWh5tV0dAJtzaNyNaXcBN1d8qN3G3-Vrokmv-Vhbu5nX2m37ihOy2FFCRuqzw1s3Qh8FgY8/s1600/Brandon+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbk5FrGlPuQLXz4JJjxmBctz_8-ARNcsX2J2jfLzVSvY7kpKGQo4481fWbvngzi_bVcbkWHWh5tV0dAJtzaNyNaXcBN1d8qN3G3-Vrokmv-Vhbu5nX2m37ihOy2FFCRuqzw1s3Qh8FgY8/s1600/Brandon+8.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
It's Monday morning. <br />
<br />
The weekend started as last weekend ended, with a seizure in the tub. We thought we were over that. Most seizures had been in the early morning, when he was safely in bed and just waking up. Hence the #2 rule in our house: Never wake a sleeping Brandon. The #1 rule being, "Never leave a door unlocked." Breaking either rule is equally serious.<br />
<br />
Brandon recovered enough by Sunday afternoon to be able to be outside with us for a quiet weekend of gardening. He was able to be on the trampoline listening to the engine of the weed eater and mower. Two things he loves as much as his beloved trampoline. We waited until Sunday to do those things so he could be awake to enjoy them. And I hope it isn't lost on anyone who has typical children, that the highlight of my son's weekend, my twenty year old son, was listening to the engine of a weed eater and mower. Not being out with his friends. That's "Life with Autism" in our house. Trying as best we can to allow Brandon to enjoy life as he likes it. Trying to achieve those stolen moments of joy and laughter and happiness.<br />
<br />
But today, Monday, I'm reminded of that flip side of autism. I went in his room to check on him, my sweet sleeping boy. But then I noticed the autism stuff. First, that he was shivering from no covers. Then I saw a puddle of pee on the floor and knew why he was cold. He was up I guess when I didn't hear him. I guess he was too tired to remain up until I heard him, so he went back to bed. Wet. Uncovered. Cold. With fat lip from the seizure in the tub. And always, with his straw.<br />
<br />
Bittersweet is the word that best describes our "Life with Autism" in how it is so opposite. So many sweet scenes, accomplishments, glimpses of our son without the autism - just take my breath away. But then equal are the moments that I wish I had a magic wand to just wave away....<br />
<br />
So there I was, changing my soaked son who was still asleep, covering him because he hasn't figured out how to do that himself; then on my hands and knees I cleaned pee off the floor. It is impossible to count the times this scene has played out in our house. That he had an accident, a seizure, that he didn't sleep, that it's 9:45am, he's sleeping, and his school started at 8:30am. That yet again I must erase appointments or "to do's" on my calendar for the day.<br />
<br />
I sat down to scroll through my Facebook feed and drink more coffee. And saw an article where in Oregon they want to increase vaccination rates by making it mandatory for parents to attend educational sessions on the importance of vaccinations. No doubt the vaccine manufacturers are funding that. No doubt they will be in some way, teaching those classes. <br />
<br />
And I just shake my head and wonder when it will end. The lies. The stealing of our children's health for profit.<br />
<br />
It's not the parents who need a legislative mandate for education on the importance of vaccination. It's the legislators and policymakers who need one where they would be required to spend a 24-hour day in the home of a child who has had severe adverse vaccine reactions in the form of autism and seizures - to those vaccines they were ignorant enough to have allowed. In this day and age, it is the smart parents who don't allow vaccinations and the ignorant ones who do allow them. The legislators and policymakers making up such ridiculous mandates need to try and pick a 140-pound brick of soapy, wet, formless jello up out of the tub and on to a bed. They need to change a soaked adult in bed with no help. And they need to scrub pee, or worse, off the floor. They need to be bit, hit, pinched and punched by someone having a sensory overload because their system was fried from vaccinations and toxins. They need to be up all night and still have to function the next day. They need to stand by helplessly while that person thrashes and chokes and turns blue from a seizure.<br />
<br />
And they need to realize that that 24-hour period goes on for a lifetime for the person, and parent, who must live a chronic life of adverse vaccine reaction.<br />
<br />
For Brandon, it's gone on 18 years now.<br />
<br />
They need to then see that maybe, just maybe, an acute case of chicken pox, measles, mumps, or the flu, isn't really so bad after all.Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-66282765363091785072014-01-30T21:30:00.000-08:002014-01-30T21:42:01.332-08:00The color of common sense.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNKQzvMeWdV30WDKzjQRP1VcML1QuC2fkVl4NJlF73lPdFKQkYbcwo1KMh3rAh7tCqBbwS_AnGSZgntlchmvp4hpkT8dsaOeOBHh3qNQ56MHa0IrHZ-reNXwrU-rUjvmsWOvDPP2wsUaS/s1600/0+Autism+in+Pictures+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNKQzvMeWdV30WDKzjQRP1VcML1QuC2fkVl4NJlF73lPdFKQkYbcwo1KMh3rAh7tCqBbwS_AnGSZgntlchmvp4hpkT8dsaOeOBHh3qNQ56MHa0IrHZ-reNXwrU-rUjvmsWOvDPP2wsUaS/s1600/0+Autism+in+Pictures+3.JPG" height="297" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Brandon attended public school through middle school. His elementary school time was the only time for us where his teachers were trained, consistent, cared, and had common sense. I refer to them as "The Dream Team." Not before, and certainly not after those years did we have anything like that. What I would describe the after as, is more a nightmare than a dream.<br />
<br />
I knew things were terribly wrong. My son was frustrated, regressing. Each school year a new team, a new set of inconsistent. I knew I had to get him in a behavioral based learning program if he were to have any chance at true learning. Even if only life skills. He wasn't even learning those where he was. So in making my case I would go to his classroom and observe. And take notes. After I did that, I understood very fully why special education programs don't want parents or outside professionals there to observe --- it's because they don't know what they are doing. They may be the nicest, sweetest people, but they aren't trained. They all do things different. I felt so bad for each parent of each child in that classroom.<br />
<br />
I've been reading all the articles on common core, all the issues with curriculum for typical students in the classroom. And I have to laugh. I am concerned about it, yes. I am very glad I don't have a child in public school today. It's just awful. But as awful as it is, their common core doesn't consist of the equivalent of a big orange bowl. I fought daily for just some common sense in my son's program, let alone common core, or any curriculum.<br />
<br />
I observed over lunch one day. I sat in the back of the cafeteria and I watched my son walk in at the same time with his peers, yet far from "with" his peers. I saw everyone carrying their tray or their lunch bag, and I saw everyone watching my son carrying a big neon orange bowl. The one exactly like in this picture. He carried it through the line and in front of everyone to his seat. Where his aides proceeded to dump all his food into that bowl for him to eat from like a horse at a trough. Had I not gone there to observe, I would have never witnessed how someone thought that including my son with his peers at lunch would mean giving him a big neon orange bowl to carry around to stick out like a sore thumb. How teaching life skills meant to dump all your food in one big bowl to eat from.<br />
<br />
The bowl was no more after that day. <br />
<br />
And just as soon as I possibly could, Brandon's presence in that school, or any public school, was no more after that day.<br />
<br />
I don't know if common sense or common core has a color.<br />
<br />
But if it did, it would not be neon orange.<br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-17205226922649132992013-11-21T11:08:00.002-08:002013-11-21T19:45:15.262-08:00Dear Congressman Issa...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Congressman Issa,<br />
<br />
As I type this, I am still breathing hard from
the aerobic exertion of my nearly fifty-year-old self from having to
semi-lift and drag off the cold tile floor to a gymnastics landing mat,
my nearly twenty year old son who is non-verbal and severely affected by
autism, -- and who just had yet another seizure. I have no one here to help me lift him to a bed. So a gymnastics landing mat on the floor will have to suffice as he sleeps it off.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All the plans for the rest of the day cancelled. Yet again. I must chuckle in how just a few days ago I was e-mailing our Pastor about perhaps resuming a mid-day prayer time that was held in the past. In what world would I actually think I could commit to such a lofty desire in actually thinking I could be somewhere as scheduled...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not in my "Life with Autism"....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not ever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm writing this knowing the chances of it ever reaching you are slim. Though I will formally submit it to your office. Just as I have submitted so very many other similar letters over the years in our "Life with Autism." </span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In fact, in preparation for the Congressional Hearings on Autism that were to be held in December, I actually searched my saved documents for letters I had previously sent to members of Congress. I was going to use them to compose yet another letter to send. I was saddened by them all. Each at different times, all with the same message of help. The same plea's for reform. The same demand for answers. </span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The same truths shared.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here are excerpts from the letter I wrote to Congressman Burton for the Congressional Hearings on Autism over a decade ago...<br /><br />Written in August of 2000<i>:</i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /><br />.....my second child was born on January 4,
1994.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>This child was breastfed, developed normally,
smiled, laughed, scooted, rolled, sat up, all the milestones were met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brandon had his first MMR on 1/4/95 on his
first birthday. At that time he received the last of the 3 HIB vaccinations as
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That night he vomited 3 or 4 times
and was inconsolable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We just thought it
was a cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then 6 months later during
periodic well- checks, my pediatrician was concerned that Brandon was not
developing on target.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was not hitting
the milestones for his age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 18 months
to 2 years of age, Brandon was diagnosed as PDD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i></span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">On 7/31/1996, when Brandon was 2.5 years old,
he received yet another MMR vaccination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why I allowed that to happen I’ll never know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something about a new more effective strain
to replace the old vaccine, and the children had to be re-vaccinated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that approximate time until now,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not remember a normal solid formed bowel
movement from my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor has his language
ever developed from the usual babbles, and mamma’s .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coincidence???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>or a Connection???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where’s the unbiased research into that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Research from independent<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>groups and with money not connected to the
vaccine industry itself…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The questions
we ask ourselves late at night, the questions without answers we receive from
our Pediatrician’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- - - are just
maddening. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every other disability or
disease I can think of for a child has some answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The parents are usually told what caused it,
what treatment plan to pursue, what the outcome will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With Autism – we don’t have that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything is theory – try this, try that…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when will we step up the research to get some
answers?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have thought and thought over
and over, what did I do with my child from the age of 18 months to 3 years when
the regression really began..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my child
didn’t go to daycare, did not have a head injury, I wasn’t a “refrigerator
mom”, all I did was have him vaccinated on time!<br /><br />Those are the issues I live with on a day to
day basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the time my child wakes
in the morning, to the time he goes to bed at night. My nights are<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mostly filled with thoughts of:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What insurance company do I have to call and
dispute a claim with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How should I word
the ad in the paper for a therapist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What special education advocacy group can I call to attend an ARD with
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I remember to buy more
supplements for my child’s regimen….<br /><br />Instead of my freezer being filled with
Popsicles, it is filled with frozen urine collection tubes to mail here and
there to try and get answers to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>help my
child.<br /><br />The greatest burden on my heart<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is, “Will it ever end?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Will there ever be answers to the questions?</span><br /><br />In the Congressional hearings of 1999 on Autism, Renee
Russo testified that, “This is War,” referring to the need for more awareness
and research.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a war for
awareness that we parents must win for our children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been on the battlefield for quite
some time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are drained from the tears
and the financial burden, we are scarred from the hurt and anger of having no
answers,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and we<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>are tired from the resistance on every issue
we face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is time for reinforcements
in terms of more awareness, research,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>grants and programs to help our children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a Congress, your unity on the legislation
and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the issues I have laid out before
you<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is the most “Lethal Weapon” we have
in our fight for National Autism Awareness and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>the future of our children.<br />………….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1 in 500
children are silent<br /> ………….. I
refuse to be.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here is one letter from 2005:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: 11.0pt;">I
want to thank you for taking a few moments to read this personal testimony on
behalf of my family as to why I have traveled to Washington, D.C. for the “Power
of Truth” rally on July 20, 2005, encouraging President Bush and Congress to
enact legislation that bans the use of any form of mercury in vaccinations
given to anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I speak for my family
– and for the thousands of children harmed by this toxic substance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i><i><span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br />My
name is Michelle Guppy, and I have been married to my husband Todd,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for 17 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have two wonderful blonde-haired, brown-
eyed boys named Matthew and Brandon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brandon is non-verbal and
has autism and pervasive developmental delay.<br /><br />As
you can see in the pictures attached, Brandon
was developing typically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting up,
crawling, babbling, followed by a few words…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then, when he turned 12 months old – he received a series of 9 or more
multiple vaccinations all given at once – while he was running a fever and on
antibiotics for recurrent ear infections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I did not know that it was dangerous to give a child vaccinations while
their immune system was already compromised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I did not know that multiple vaccinations given at once, contained more
than the EPA allowable levels of the mercury that was used as a preservative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t know that my Pediatrician was giving
the vaccinations too close together.<br /><br />Those
things that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not know – were what
triggered the “series of unfortunate events” that has brought our family to
this journey with Autism.<br /><br />My
son went from wearing hats – to that being a painful sensory experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My son went from babbling a few words – to
being totally non-verbal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My son went
from looking at me and smiling – to sitting in a corner banging his head
against the wall.<br /><br />To
think that this all could have, and should have, been prevented – is incomprehensible.<br /><br />Please
support any, and all, legislation that bans the use of any form of mercury in
any vaccination given to anyone.<br /><br />It’s
too late for my child, and for this entire generation of children harmed by
mercury, but it’s not too late for the next generation.<br /><br />Remove
mercury from vaccinations.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">That was in 2005. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then for the Congressional Hearings you held last November, this is what I submitted:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <i> </i></span></b><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Congressman Darrell Issa<br />
Committee on Oversight & Government Reform<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Testimony for record on Autism
Hearings</i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>
</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><i><br />My name is Michelle
Guppy -- mother to Brandon Guppy, my son who is 18 years old and is non-verbal
and who is severely affected by autism, gastrointestinal disease, and seizures.<br /><br />He was not "born with it".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was developing and starting to say a few words, when after a series of 9
vaccinations in one day -- he lost language and regressed into autism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where one day he was smiling for the camera
with a hat on, the next year he had so many sensory issues he could not
tolerate wearing a hat and his smile was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In its place the preference to be alone, untouched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happiest when in his room banging his head on
the wall.<br /><br />Ever since the 1st Congressional Hearings I attended, I've been banging my head
against the wall myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've been at this
since so very many parents like me sat in the hearing room listening to
Congressman Burton share the truth, and all the other Government alphabet-soup agencies tell their lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get it, the
implications of admitting vaccine policy has gone terribly wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get that you have to go along with the
money that funds your elections or re-elections in believing what Pharma tells
you about how there's no evidence vaccines cause autism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's all fine ---<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>except that too many and too toxic
vaccinations do cause autism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And will
continue to...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Denying it won't change
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Redefining autism won't cure it.<br />
<br />
I watched every word of what was spoken from my desk at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can't work because my son misses so much
school due to uncontrolled seizures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
watched those hearings and I was skeptically hopeful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I laughed at how terribly uncomfortable Boyle
looked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rightfully so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The CDC & NIH have lied and covered up
the truth for too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried at the
truth from those who are on "our side" and who are not tainted by
money and power and who are free to speak that truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Free to follow where the truth leads -- no
matter the implications.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you will
too. Follow the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I met a Texas
Senator once whose words give me hope that are others in Congress who have his bravery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said "Supporting autism insurance is
the right thing to do, whether it gets me re-elected or not..."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's what your job is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To fight for & serve people, not help
fund & support special interest groups, or Pharma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Not to protect the CDC & NIH. </span>Healthy children do not make Pharma
money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Autism crisis is a result of
that fact.<br />
<br />
We are tired, broke, yet we fight against all odds each and every day for our
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Education, Insurance, Medical
Treatment, Recreational Programs, Respite, Long-term Care, Supports, What
happens after 21, What happens when I die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I'm one of the veterans - I've been at this for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm tired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My son deserves for Congress to say to him, "We're sorry" and
then to listen to us how to help him. What he needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What they all need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The 1 in 88.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And counting. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They need for the
truth to be told, for the lies to stop, the corruption to end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The help to finally begin...</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today is November 21, 2013. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I just returned from another "rally" of sorts in traveling with friends to give Oral Testimony to the IACC.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Same crisis, different President, higher incidence. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And my HOPEISM in the Congressional Hearings for this year? Yet again dashed. I'm sure for no other reason than those content to live in their lies and uncomfortable with the truth not wanting to participate. Well, excuse the language, but screw them. You do not work for them, you work for us. <b><i>Us</i></b> who need those hearings to have an opportunity to share the truth. Not our truth, not Pharma's truth, not the CDC's truth, not the NIH's truth, but <i>the</i> truth. Allow us to present the research. Give America the chance to decide whose truth they would rather leave their child's health to. </span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I sure wish I had that opportunity years ago before I ever allowed one needle full of toxins to be injected into my son's perfectly healthy, perfectly designed body.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't have any new or different pleas to submit other than what I've already submitted. Time after time. Except maybe that my son is older, seizures more frequent, costs to care for him getting higher, my time on earth to care for him getting shorter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope my son's eyes haunt you with each excuse or delay in holding hearings for the truth of the corruption in the vaccine industry, Pharma, the CDC & NIH - to be exposed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His eyes represent the black & white truth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And I hope they bore into your soul as much as they do mine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps more...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because I didn't cause my son's autism.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">YOU, the government, in a myriad of ways, <b><i>did</i></b>.</span><br />
<br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5916962746764404347.post-39072405262248670072013-11-12T20:47:00.000-08:002013-11-12T20:47:10.315-08:00When Superman Sleeps...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUu3_ZuZMCpbsUPFyvz1_6yMTy3r4gQBif6piNX9JMZgUXL15dbZ6PQ6EhKODTbs3L98M3m4q-UJmr2Pbp9NFDzelM4IRm8F7y_pydX7Vh_Zb9BVstGQ2dbKu4m_mYBuP2N8L2jErM6Ie/s1600/Brandon+tub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUu3_ZuZMCpbsUPFyvz1_6yMTy3r4gQBif6piNX9JMZgUXL15dbZ6PQ6EhKODTbs3L98M3m4q-UJmr2Pbp9NFDzelM4IRm8F7y_pydX7Vh_Zb9BVstGQ2dbKu4m_mYBuP2N8L2jErM6Ie/s400/Brandon+tub.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
I had one of those thirty-second conversations with my husband the other night. Because he is the one who has the job that pays the bills, I typically do the night shift with Brandon so he can sleep and be rested for a very demanding job. Brandon had not been sleeping at night, and he asked me if Brandon had slept the night before. I remember laughing in reply, "You have no idea what goes on after you go to bed. It's a whole 'nother world upstairs!" I think at one point in that night in question when I went in Brandon's room to stop him from jumping up and down -- he had taken all pillows and all sheets off his bed. Somehow they were all under his bed. And there he was, just wide awake jumping up and down. And there I was, at 2am, crawling under his bed to retrieve all the bed things, making his bed, and threatening him with no straws ever again in his life if he didn't get in bed, stay in bed, and SLEEP. Of course that didn't phase him. I think not even an hour later I heard
him jumping again while playing with the one electronic toy I missed
the time I went in there before I found the sheets and pillows under the
bed.<br /><br />I wanted so badly to just say to him, "Fine, when you do get tired, sleep on a bare bed with no pillows. Or crawl back under your bed and sleep there on the floor with your pillow, sheets, and dust bunnies to keep you company!" <br /><br />But I don't. <br /><br />I fix the bed, make sure he's clean and dry, and see how close to falling asleep I can once again get, before I have to get up and do it all again.<br /><br />In how maddening it all is, how could I possibly be mad at this innocent child who is probably as frustrated at it all as I am.<br /><br />That's the thing that is so hard. What is his Kryptonite that keeps him awake? That hurts him? That frustrates him? <br /><br />You just can't imagine what it's like to live that way for so long. New parents expect that. To not get more than a few hours sleep. But for me, my son is nineteen. I've been doing the work of three shifts of employees in a nursing home type facility. It's mind-boggling how parents must do that. And I am fortunate that for me, these all-nighter's come in cycles. I do get reprieve now and then when he does sleep through the night. Well that, or those are the times I just too exhausted and don't hear him.<br /><br />And then there's the times like these when whatever that Kryptonite is, he has defeated for the moment and sleep takes over. <br /><br />No matter where he may be at that time.<br /><br />Sleep my Superman...<br /><br />Sleep soundly...<br /><br />Michelle M Guppyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847995187234831360noreply@blogger.com0