Prophylaxis? Panacea? Poppycock!

In spite of the FDA’s best medical minds emphatically contending that, in the fight against COVID-19, Hydroxychloroquine SULFATE is contraindicated, once again, snake oil huckster, dope pusher Donny is contradicting / defying them. That Oval Office quack has been doing an end-run around each and every ethical doctor… worldwide… to illegally prescribe… to misrepresent this anti-Malarial drug as some sort of COVID-19 prophylaxis / panacea.

Even worse, Dopey Donny is now actually boasting that he, himself, has been popping these pills… under the direct supervision of Commander Sean Conley, DO, USN (a.k.a. the White House physician). Perhaps DT is stupidly washing ‘em down with dangerous disinfectant, too? BTW… DO NOT DO THAT! NEVER, EVER DO THAT!!!

Hmm… IF TRUE… it would appear that Dense Donny is not the only quack at the White House. I mean, what reputable physician would ever flip-off his Hippocratic (do no harm) Oath, to permit anyone to so recklessly endanger his own health… maybe even jeopardize his very life?

If the Trumpster really is scarfing down Hydroxychloroquine, he has essentially morphed himself into a lab rat.

Check out the dark side of Hydroxychloroquine SULFATE… the partial list of the very scary, ofttimes deadly side effects (bold font indicates already existing Trump-specific side effects).

Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, dizziness, headache, heart failure, shortness of breath, swelling ankles/feet, unusual tiredness, unusual/sudden weight gain, mental/mood changes, anxiety, depression, rare thoughts of suicide, hallucinations, ringing in the ears, hearing loss, liver disease, severe stomach/abdominal pain, yellowing eyes/skin, dark urine, muscle weakness, unwanted/uncontrolled movements, tongue/face twitching, hair loss, hair/skin color changes… etc. [Read More Here]

It’s those hallucination and mental/mood change side effects, which, in particular, could account for how and why the Trumpster actually (erroneously) believes he’s been doing a good job in battling the coronavirus / pandemic.

Of course, truth be told, there’s really no reason for anyone to be especially concerned. Seeing how, from Inauguration Day to December 2019, Donald J. Trump has told approximately 15,000 lies, why would his own drug use claim be any different?

Were Prez Pinocchio to ever come clean, might we then discover how heavily he’s invested in pharmaceuticals (inclusive of Hydroxychloroquine)?

Such a suspicion is not all that far-fetched, seeing how (in violation of the Emoluments Clause) Donald J. Trump has always used / abused his “presidency” to illegally profiteer. Were this specific scenario playing itself out, he would stand to make a figurative (maybe even literal) killing. All he’d need do is successfully sucker in and sicken his gullible voter base… i.e., convince them to pester to death their own physicians… high pressure them into prescribing the dangerous and deadly Hydroxychloroquine SULFATE.

Hell, would it shock anyone if ghoul Donny is heavily invested in funeral homes, casket / urn manufactures and (grave digging) backhoes, too?








Drugs ‘R’ US?

Might the Opioid addiction crisis, in part, be due to the unhealthy attitudes, which too often get programmed into our subconscious minds? While I’ve managed to steer clear of this prob, there have been too damned many opportunists, who’ve been doing their damnedest to make a druggie out of me… make druggies of us all.

• My age was still in single digits when I first became aware of the tobacco industry’s slick, spurious, multimedia, advertising campaigns crafted to BURY the truth about their addictive, deadly products and BURY their customers, too. They even used to sponsor the ABC network’s prime time kiddie cartoon TV series, The Flintstones. How an exec could’ve ever deemed it appropriate to huckster cigarettes to children had to have been that mercenary’s ‘tude… on steroids.

Of course, such crassness didn’t stop there. The nicotine pushers even colluded with confectioners… persuaded them to manufacture candy cigarettes… i.e., to corrupt kiddies long before they could legally buy the real deal. Back in the early Sixties, I had actually pestered my own father to buy me packs of those faux smokes. Dad had been conditioned so completely by that “smoking is harmless” nonsense that he was neither concerned about his own one+ pack-a-day cigarette habit nor his own son mimicking him / pretending to take drags off these candy coffin nails. Fortunately for me… but not for dad… my listening to him coughing up his lungs (for at least thirty minutes every morning) had completely negated the Madison Avenue ad-men’s “cigarettes are glamorous” fantasy. Of course, I didn’t wind up completely unscathed. The candy version’s sugar content did manage to decay my baby teeth. But far worse, since my father, eventually, smoked himself into an at least two decades too early grave, that prematurely deprived me of his company and counsel.

• Back in the here and now, I find it impossible to watch TV and read periodicals without being inundated by Big Pharma’s, direct to the consumer advertising blitzes. These freaks bombard us with their relentless sales pitches to extol the dubious virtues of their their, by and large, shoddy wares… namely, their barely FDA approved pills, potions and patches. They’re so adept at mind control that their captive, gullible (mostly layperson) targeted victims go rushing off, en masse, to the nearest medical complex to pester the crap out of their doctors… to beg for prescriptions for the latest rage “in-drug”.

It defies credulity that anyone would even consider any drug safe for human consumption upon discovering the typical kilometer / mile long list of (in fine print) side effects… inclusive of depression, diarrhea, loss of libido, cancer and even DEATH! Hmm… just for a moment, let us consider the slippery slope of such side effects… how they might affect patients who are, e.g., popping antidepressants. I mean, what could be more depressing than diarrhea, loss of libido and cancer? Will even more drugs be needed to cure the secondary ailments? Maybe even additional antidepressants to chase away the exacerbated depression? And what about the side effects that the new meds may cause… and on and on and on…

• Two summers ago, I suffered a minor injury, which necessitated a visit to my local Urgent Care Facility. My slashed thumb needed three stitches. End of story? NOPE! To facilitate my recovery, my doctor handed me a multiple paged, computer print-out of instructions… inclusive of a few paragraphs to inform me that, if needed, Hydrocodone… a.k.a. Vicodin… was readily available. Say what? A notoriously addictive, Opioid drug for such a minor injury? I wasn’t even in that much pain. I sure as hell did not want to mess around with THAT! Sure, I realize that toughing out pain is not always an option for everyone. Still, we must worry about anyone who’s so hellbent on getting high that they’ll jump at any chance to cop some legally prescribed, pharmaceutically pure drugs. To be sure, pain is no fun. But, neither is becoming a junkie.

I’m certain there are plenty of similar stories to tell. If you’d like to contribute your own observations to this blog, you are welcome to leave a comment.




3 Stitches and 3 Plastic Cards Fixed Tom’s Thumb


To be sure, there’s nothing quite like that first cup of freshly brewed, morning joe… especially right after opening the coffee can for the very first time. While there’s no better way to “wash down” one’s tasty breakfast, one must never lose sight of the hidden dangers.

Dangers? DANGERS??? Really? How so?

Well, you see, I’d been rushing through this morning’s kitchen cleanup ritual when, while disposing the coffee can’s round, metal, razor sharp “inner quality seal”, I wound up wounding my right thumb.

Immediately rushing off to the bathroom, I packed off my booboo with a “ton” of gauze. However, upon noticing how my blood was rapidly soaking through, I went racing back for the kitchen ISO a sandwich sized Ziploc™ bag to fully encase all of that “pretty” red gauze. Needless to say, my injury warranted a trip to my local Urgent Care facility.

My last visit there had been for a work related injury ten years prior… so… I could take some solace in knowing that medical attention was mere minutes away and well within walking distance from my home. Since, initially, I believed my slightly panicked frame of mind might make for unsafe driving, and calling an ambulance for such an injury was unwarranted, my opting to proceed there on foot actually seemed to make the most sense. Or, perhaps, I was not making ANY sense due to all of that blood loss?

Well, I was just about to engage my front door’s deadbolt lock when that nagging little voice inside my head yelled out, “HEY, wait a sec!” Vague recollections of a recent, Urgent Care, snail mailed item now came to mind. As it turns out, I had saved myself a useless trip.

Their new digs, indeed, were now much farther away. Noticing that postcards’ 2015 postmark, I decided to phone ahead. For all I knew they might’ve been more mobile than a warzone MASH unit.

The good news: They had not “bugged out”.

The bad news: I would now need to drive there.

The good news: My familiarity with locale and route coupled with how, for the moment, I was not bleeding to death.

It was now time to give myself that “calm down, don’t wimp out, you can do this” pep talk. In short I successfully made the transformation from walking wounded Tom to driving safely Tom.

But, even my best mind over matter tactics could not compensate for everything. I couldn’t help but instantly notice something most of us so easily take for granted… i.e., how turning the key in my garage door lock and in my car’s ignition all required the use of my opposable, wounded thumb. In such situations, one certainly does feel an even greater empathy and admiration for folks who must deal, daily, with chronic disabilities.

And so… I drove off. It being post morning rush hour, I found traffic to be light.

Upon my arrival, I checked in with the Urgent Care receptionist who was repeatedly apologetic. She was sensitive to the fact that she was asking me to fill out forms while I was barely able to hold onto the pen. But, once I committed my wound ruined, horrific penmanship to paper, the other medical professionals rapidly took over.

They checked out my vitals… temperature, pulse and blood pressure. The attending physician then visually assessed everything, injected a painkiller and sutured my lacerated thumb (3 stitches). Seeing how my last Tetanus shot was ten years ago (which by pure coincidence is the “life expectancy” of such injections), that inoculation was also part of this day’s treatment.

3 stitches, 3 plastic cards (DL, BCBS & VISA), a $30 copay and 30 minutes later… I was out the door and back on the road / on the road to recovery… but not before stopping off at a nearby drugstore to replenish my sorely lacking home stash of gauze, bandages and Neosporin™ ointment.

SIDEBAR: I now remind my readers to make damned sure your First Aid Kits are well stocked and medications are not past their expiration dates. Also ensure your inoculations (e.g. Tetanus) are up to date. Lastly, always be extra careful when handling hidden kitchen hazards, e.g., coffee cans.

Now, as much as I really do respect the medical community, this Thomas’s Doubting Thomas nature did force me to consider how some of my doctor’s medical evaluations / recommendations might’ve been under the influence of Big Pharma.

e.g. #1: Even though my injury’s pain is only minor, Doc had been way too quick to recommend Vicodin™!

e.g. #2: My doctor’s concerns over my borderline hypertensive reading are likely unfounded. Even I, as a layperson, could easily spot how far too many of the recommended procedures for accurately assessing blood pressure had not been observed! And incorrect diagnoses oft lead to needless prescriptions for BP lowering meds.

INDEED… my slightly high BP reading was very likely caused by the very caffeine found in those two cups of coffee I had enjoyed at my breakfast table!