Fulfilling The Prophecy

Fulfilling The Prophecy

If you keep telling the world that the virus is targeting old people, the younger people will believe that nature is culling the herd and will seek subconsciously to fulfill that prophecy.

Better the old people die if the world population needs to be lowered because of overpopulation, rather than the young people that the world needs to complete whatever mission the planet is on.

That prophecy-filling happened to me when I went by ambulance to a Cleveland Clinic facility.

It was scary to witness the wall that went up when she decided she’d send me home to fend for myself, “weather it”. She gave me a death sentence right then and there and she had no qualms about it.

“If you’re coming in here looking for a miracle, we don’t do miracles. there’s no miracle cure” was the first statement out of her mouth as she walked in arms folded against her chest. No matter what I said, she diminished it in some way.

I had been sick for a while. Even though I didn’t test positive the original doctor treated me for COVID blaming the rapid response test on the negative result. I had breathing problems, fever and a bunch of other symptoms all indicative of COVID.

He was very clear and even wrote in his notes which he gave me to take home that in a few days after taking the antibiotic he prescribed, if not better or if worse I was to go to the emergency room for further evaluation. She disregarded all of that. She had a smirk on her face each time she came in the room and throughout whatever she was saying.

The antibiotic didn’t work. I was getting weaker by the day. My fever spiked every night – I even took pictures of the thermometer. She said I didn’t look sick.

I tested positive for the virus and the lung x-ray showed I had COVID lung.

I said I needed another antibiotic, a different one, because the one I took didn’t work. I got worse. She was having none of it. She gave me a muscle relaxant for the muscle cramps – one of my symptoms – and sent me home. She didn’t even give me a prescription for the muscle relaxant, just one pill. I still three months later have muscle cramps all over my body.

It’s unsettling how doctors don’t believe what the patient says. They act more like lawyers litigating a case than they do doctors.

Now why wouldn’t she believe that I had night fevers and sweats every night? What’s my motivation to lie? Sure the Tylenol worked to bring it down; it always does, but when the Tylenol wears off the fever spikes again. Doctors want proof for everything. If you can’t present proof then they treat you like a liar and it’s all in your mind – functional they call it.

The first doctor at Urgent Care didn’t need proof that I had COVID, even when the test was negative. He believed me and not the test, which was the right way to diagnose. This other woman let her prejudices get in the way and decided to ration my care. Her not giving me a prescription for an antibiotic means I was fine when she saw me and nothing needed treatment. Even if I die the next day for lack of treatment, they’re covered liability-wise.

I think to get well faster the medical profession needs to stop acting like prosecuting attorneys, judges and juries. They’re doctors, let them be doctors. Now it’s quite possible that the woman doctor or practitioner didn’t make the call; it could have been made by someone in a back room somewhere, who was making judgment calls on who to ration.

I was seen right away. It was the middle of the night. It wasn’t like there were lines of people. It was mainly empty. To top it all off, I was searched by a cop, black cop, woman who acted like she was auditioning for a late night activism aka comedy show.

  • “What’s this? what have we here, hmm scissors, okay, scissors?? I don’t carry scissors in my purse. What’s she talking about? Then she grabs my pepper gel canister, snaps it off the strap of my purse and says she’ll have to keep this with her and that she would return it when I left. She held it up with two hands like a waiter would present a fine bottle of wine to the diners to show the label before opening it. By then I figured she was high. She even confiscated the case it was in.
  • Well she never did return it. Security people were all over the place out front where I was waiting for Steve to pick me up in an UBER. I was drugged with a muscle relaxant and so weak that I could hardly walk. I never thought of it. But I’ll bet she did. Looking back, when I left she was right there; she looked right at me with that big ‘you’re going to hire me right’ smile, or like she was getting away with something and I was in on it. It wasn’t until later that I realized she kept it. Finders keepers. I didn’t ask when I left, that was the last thing on my mind, but it seemed pretty important to her when she took it.

Oh, and when I told the emergency room doctor/practitioner that a year and a half ago I had pneumonia with sepsis with the same symptoms, she wasn’t phased. It was irrelevant. You don’t have a fever now so you’re going home to take care of yourself is how I read her. I took two Tylenol a while ago, so the fever must have broke. Didn’t matter, I couldn’t prove it.

I kept getting worse. Steve, the next day started calling all over trying to get me set up with a doctor who would treat me by a virtual appointment. I was too sick to get on a bus, and anyway, I was infectious. He understood. He had COVID too, in fact I caught it from him, who caught it at work. When he went to the hospital he got the VIP treatment; I got nothing. Even when not rationing medical care, men get better treatment from both men and women medical personnel than women get.

Steve was a full day on the phone before finally securing an appointment.

She was literally a lifesaver. She understood it all. She took a thorough history, was non-judgmental and courteous. She gave me an antibiotic that worked and I haven’t had a fever since. She was a doctor and a practitioner.

I wanted her for my primary care doctor, but her office is too far away and I can’t afford the UBER prices for long distances. Senior transportation limits rides to an eight mile radius plus setting up a ride is cumbersome with so many rules that keep changing.

So yeah, the doctor/practitioner/executioner in the emergency room was fulfilling a prophecy either in collusion with or independent of the Cleveland Clinic. When people decide to fulfill a prophecy they just do it. And everything they do thereafter supports it as well as covers all their bases should somebody ever question them. At that point of decision they don’t have much control, only to do what is necessary. She’s one of those people.

She had no distinguishing features or traits except an aloof, distant demeanor. Where the miracle talk fits in I don’t know. I set the record straight about not expecting miracles and why I was there. Once I didn’t expect a miracle, the process in her mind was over. I was outta there.There’s no rationality when fulfilling a prophecy.

Deciding who lives and dies is terrorism. That makes the Cleveland Clinic Foundation complicit.


Published by Sharon Lee Davies-Tight, artist, writer/author, animal-free chef, activist

CHEF DAVIES-TIGHT™. AFC Private Reserve™. THE ANIMAL-FREE CHEF™. The Animal-Free Chef Prime Content™. ANIMAL-FREE SOUS-CHEF™. Animal-Free Sous-Chef Prime Content™. ANIMAL-FAT-FREE CHEF™. Fat-Free Chef Prime Content™. AFC GLOBAL PLANTS™. THE TOOTHLESS CHEF™. WORD WARRIOR DAVIES-TIGHT™. Word Warrior Premium Content™. HAPPY WHITE HORSE™. Happy White Horse Premium Content™. SHARON ON THE NEWS™. SHARON'S FAMOUS LITTLE BOOKS™. SHARON'S BOOK OF PROSE™. CHALLENGED BY HANDICAP™. BIRTH OF A SEED™. LOCAL UNION 141™. Till now and forever © Sharon Lee Davies-Tight, Artist, Author, Animal-Free Chef, Activist. ARCHITECT of 5 PRINCIPLES TO A BETTER LIFE™ & MAINSTREAM ANIMAL-FREE CUISINE™.

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