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Australia Jab Injuries – Ingi – From Sunshine Coast, Australia



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Australia Jab Injuries – Ingi – From Sunshine Coast, Australia

By Jab Injuries Global

Ingi – Sunshine Coast, Australia

Pfizer #1: FC3558
Pfizer #2: FC3558

This story was written in the first week of October 2021 and has been published widely on the internet but was originally written not to draw the attention of the social media fact checkers, hence it doesn’t focus on the correlation to the vaccine. However, it was clear then and is even clearer now that this absolutely caused by the vaccine.

Covered up with long sleeved, loose clothing. My skin-on-bone body does not feel real in my head but every so often, I catch an unwanted glimpse of myself in the mirror and cry. Losing twelve to fourteen kilos of myself suddenly is not pretty.

After a lovely ski holiday in July 2021, I was waiting for my luggage to arrive when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen and lower back. During the hour-long drive home, it got a lot worse. Being a Sunday evening, I thought I’ll sleep it off till the morning. However, it was getting bad near midnight so off to emergency we went. By now, we both thought I must have appendicitis…oh, how I wish it was!

This was during the Covid lockdown so Scott (my partner) was not allowed to come in with me. I was quickly attended to and assessed before being sent off for a scan only to then be greeted by a team of foreign faces of doctors who introduced themselves. In the next breath, I was told I had a dissected aorta. At this moment, I started to feel very scared. I did not, in my state of pain, understand fully what they were trying to explain to me. I asked if Scott could please join me but I was denied anyone to come to support me. I vaguely remember calling him and trying to explain the situation but I did a bad job and he was starting to freak out. A dissected aorta sounded to me like a death sentences. I was again sent off for a different scan so they could pick up more tails. It was confirmed: a dissected aorta’s from below the renal arteries, down to the iliac branch. The one thing I remember most was that I was told I was not going home anytime soon. Before daylight hours, I had various medical teams popping in and talking what felt like a foreign language to me. It was all a blur.

Later that morning, I was sent to a ward. Little did I know that this was now going to be my place of residence for most of the next two months. During my first twenty-four hours, I think I had every scan under the sun. I was in and out of my room like a yoyo. They were looking for a cause and signs of disease. The urgency of it all compounding my anxiety and was worsened by still being unable to have any visitor support. This was a scary time as the seriousness of what had struck me set in. I was started on BP, stroke, cholesterol, blood thinning, painkillers, and nausea medications. I had within forty-eight hours seen so many different medical teams I had lost count of who was who. I learned that there was no obvious reason why this had happened to me and I had them all puzzled how someone at my age, so fit and health, living a fitness and health-based lifestyle, would be struck like this. I also learned that they found a condition called FMD (Fibro Muscular Dysplasia), in my posterior neck arteries. This is a condition I had never heard of but apparently it is likely I have had it all my life. They found a small dissection on my left side but I was told it was unrelated as it looked all healed over and old. Of course they looked high and low for other signs of FMD in all the common places but found none.

One night before lockdown ended, I broke down and cried. The lovely nurse who was looking after me organised an exemption for Scott to visit that evening. Finally, I felt I had my team with me. Someone to help absorb the incoming information. Someone to pass it onto my family and friends on the outside. Someone who loves me and asked all the questions I could not think of. Over the weekend, I had my amazing children visiting me as well as lockdown was over. After an additional few nights in the ward, I was sent home to manage my new condition with medication as well as strict instructions not to elevate my heart rate or blood pressure. Was this my new life now?

Two weeks at home adjusting to a very slow way of living, the thoughts running through my head were: “Only until a follow up scan,” it’s not forever,” and “I will be back doing the things I love.” I was staying as positive as I possibly could. Very short walks each day kept me sane. I felt positive walking to the hospital for my follow up scan. However, once back home, I got a phone call asking me to come straight back to the emergency department. I was devastated…

This time, I was sent to ICU. Again, the various teams of doctors were rooting fast, explaining that I Had a hepatoma developed above my dissection and getting very close to the renal arteries. It wasn’t a very good result. They were getting ready for surgery and I was about to get a new piece of aorta with new arteries to kidneys. A massive graft. This was on a Wednesday afternoon. I spent the weekend there being closely monitored. On Monday, it was show time! For me, Monday was non-existent but not for my poor family. They endured twelve hours of waiting before hearing any news. It was a huge surgery that left me with a nasty scar and a pressure sore on my backside. After the twelve hours, I was kept asleep for another six or so hours. I had been warned about waking with a breathing tube but was told I wouldn’t remember it. They were wrong! I woke hearing voices. I felt the tube but was able to breath myself with it. It seemed to be forever when they were pulling at it while I was awake trying to breath around it. It was a horrible experience. After seemingly an eternity, they finally started to get it out. I remember gagging and coughing. After that, I don’t remember much.

The next week can only be described as a living hell. I have vivid memories of being in ICU: feeling sick all the time and not eating as I was hooked unto tubes of food. My kidneys, bowel, and live had stopped working as during the surgery, blood supply was cut for some time. The risk of living without kidney function and/or bowel function forever was an ever-present terrifying reality. The heavy drugs I was given made me hallucinate badly. I was hearing voices, seeing things, thoughts of conspiracy against me, and freaking out at night. I lost time and days.

One experience has stuck with me and it was when they were putting in an epidural for pain relief. I had a moment of clarity before they began as. I was on this constantly moving air bed. I twas set to move to reduce pressure sores. I recall shouting out to the nurse to switch the bed off and the last thing I wanted during this delicate procedure around my spinal card was the bed to start moving.

The procedure took a very long time. I as in a lot of pain and the little tube got stuck and wouldn’t go in properly. They had about six inches to feed into my spine, I as told. I remember shaking badly and was continuously told to stay still. Then, in the middle of it all, the bed started to move! I have always been very appreciative and respectful to all staff who have cared for me and I would never dream of being rude but I lot it! I am not proud of it but I swore and I cursed at the person trying to help me. I guess pain and anxiety got to me.

Every day my beautiful children and Scott were by my side as much as they were allowed to be. Those moments were the highlights! I also had some incredible nurses caring for me around the clock. There were many moments when I thought I was not going to make it through this. Several times I just felt like I couldn’t go on and asking the doctor’s if I was going to die was commonplace in my new hell. I was being rolled from side to side to stay off my pressure sore. I was also being washed in the bed. I was fed by a tube. All dignity gone. My kidneys were hooked up to a dialysis. I was trying different drugs for pain to get away from hallucinations.

At the end of my ICU stay, I was allowed to drink and eat liquids. This proved to be a real struggle. My stomach wouldn’t accept much and I spent a lot of time bringing back up what I worked so hard at getting down. I also had the misfortune of experiencing two vasovagal attacks, fainting, and leaving me unconscious for a short while. After successfully getting on the walking frame with the physio’s and moving slowly up the corridor, it was decided I was ready to go to a ward. Goodbye ICU! Two weeks there was plenty enough.

The surgery had been a success. My failing kidney’s were nursed back slowly with regular dialysis. My live function improved. Continuous blood tests and reassuring scans over the next week made me feel positive. Flowers and visitors cheered me up. I was allowed to ear anything now but this was my main struggle. I just couldn’t eat or drink much at all. My weight had now started to plummet and I was feeling weak rather than sore. The nutritionist team that is still supporting me kept a close eye. Short walks up and down the corridor plus trying to get as much food down as possible became a daily routine.

The one thing I couldn’t shake was the constant nausea and oversized belly. My abdomen was huge. I looked like I was nine months pregnant. The renal team kept trying to get fluid off me but all it did at the end of the day was dehydrate me without moving the fluid off my belly. Fourteen litres had been removed from me but my belly persisted and wouldn’t budge.

After eight nights, I was deemed well enough to go home. I still couldn’t eat very much and the constant nausea was still there. I also developed crippling neck pain after they removed the final central line coming out of my neck. It was replaced with a permacath that was put in for dialysis use only.

Once home, I had to continue dialysis as an outpatient three times a week over the next week and five hours per visit.

At my first follow up, my neck was really playing up. I had the doctors concerned so much that I was called into emergency that same night for a scan. This was a rather scary experience. Imagine a VIP getting the royal treatment but the treatment is a rushed entry into the emergency department.

My arrival was expected and I didn’t have to wait even for one minute. All my detail were in their scans ready to go. Within minutes, I was hooked up to machines, had blood taken, and rushed into the CT scan. As my kidneys were only just starting back, I had to sign a special permission slip to be able to have the dye. They weighed up the risks and benefits and deemed it worthwhile. This gave us both a big fright as the last thing we could cope with right now was another setback. In true VIP style, the result were interpreted very quickly and I was declared safe and stable. No further issues at all! I think both Scott and I had held our breaths throughout that whole ordeal.

Over the next few days at home, my belly did not get any smaller and the renal team was getting more and more concerned. The great part was that my kidneys had kicked in more and more and the decision to stop the dialysis for a week as a trial was made. Try for a moment and understand the anxiety of waiting for weeks to see if you’re going to spend the rest of your life living on dialysis. What a relief. After only a few days off dialysis, a young doctor started to investigate my belly further with more scans and x-rays. I was off to see the liver specialist next and it was decided that my bell was full of fluid cause by a leak from my lymphatic system. At this point, I was called back into hospital for another vaccination…

This time, they put a drain on my waistline guided by ultrasound. After six hours, three full bags of tile had poured out of me. Six litres just from my belly. I can’t describe how amazing it was to lose all that pressure on my organs, ribcage, and spine. I felt like I was melting away. I learned that chyle is made in the lymphatic system every time you eat fat and its purpose is to move the fat away. As it turns out, my lymphatic system was damaged during surgery and a small leak had caused my belly to fill up. Each time I ate something with fat in it, it would leak into my belly. The best cure for this is to be on a no-fat -diet to allow the leak to heal naturally. I was again getting advice form the nutritionist. By now, my weight was around fifty-three to fifty-four kilos. I had lost so much weight and a no-fat-diet just seemed absurd as I already looked and felt completely anorexic.

After four more nights on the ward, I as again sent home with strict diet instructions and follow up appointments booked. Sticking to this diet was incredibly difficult. The good part here was that my nausea finally subsided. The neck pain still made my head fuzzy and kept me up at night.

The following week, I had a follow up appointment with the liver specialist. It was decided I start reintroducing fats in my diet while keeping a close eye on my belly. This is where I am now. It all seems okay. I feel like I have turned a corner and finally a little more energy. I have started to do some short works around our lake. I have even been out of the house for a couple of short trips. I still have a very long way to go. Each day, as the day progresses, I get tired, and my stomach is bloated and unsettled. It kind of resets itself each night as I feel better when I wake up. I do wake up a few times each night. Sometimes all sweaty. Sometimes just restless. As my haemoglobin is low, I need to inject myself once a week to boost it. This is a job for Scott as there is no way I could do it myself. It’s only for a few weeks until things go back to normal.

Overall, I am progressing in the right direction. We are hoping for smooth sailing from here. I do have some follow ups coming up within the next two weeks and I am having ongoing treatments for my neck, which is improving each time. My now very thin body is all about getting more energy on-board so I can start rebuilding. Today, as I walked around the lake, I listened to my running music. I twas emotional and uplifting at the same time. As I glance at my shadow and see this stick like silhouette, I tear up but I am determined, no matter how long it takes, to get back to being me.

Some notes:

— I received the Pfizer vaccine.

— Forteen days prior to the dissection occurring, I received the second dose of the Pfizer vaccine.

— Two days after the second jab, I had a sore arm and developed signifiant fluid retention swelling under my arm. This was imaged by ultrasound via a GP. This lasted until about seventh day post second jab.

— From the seventh to the fourteenth day after the second jab, I continued to have headaches and tiredness and loss of appetite and a signifiant drop in aerobic ability suffering from extreme exhaustion after basic aerobic activity.

— I have undergone a twelve hour open abdominal surgery to have a prosthetic graft inserted from my renal arteries down to and including both of the common iliac.

— It was reported to the TGA by SCUH head vascular surgeon as vaccine harm in early November 2021.

Since Ingi’s open letter that specifically left out the concerns about the Pfizer vaccine due to censorship concerns, there has been a lot more happening in the wider acceptance of COVID-19 vaccine harm, research of vaccine harm, and understanding of the processes involved that means that endothelia damage can be caused in otherwise health people by the Pfizer vaccine. Most importantly, contact has been made with a well known professor and creator of vaccines. He’s currently working with Ingi’s biopsies and will be running them through the mass spectrometer in early February 2022 and it is expected that he will be able to locate the vaccine generated spike proteins or the “smoking gun.” He has explained the process that has occurred in INgi and others in technical terms as being that these gene therapy vaccines are transfecting the endothelium (courtesy of the liposomes) that then expresses spike protein and cause an immune attack thereby causing endothelial dysfunction and in addition, the secreted spike protein, which may also be binding ACE2 on the vessel wall, further exacerbates the problem. In the presence of high blood pressures induced by exercise, this vessel wall inflammation causes points of weakness that trigger the initial rupture and dissection.

There have been dozens of emails with the professor and they unremarkably show the very really challenge and mental anguish we were put through in trying to get heard by a then very uneducated medical profession. By “uneducated,” it means that remarkably, straight after surgery when there was still an explanation being sort for Ingi’s Spontaneous Coronary Artery Dissection (SCAD), it raised a list of questions only one of which was related to the vaccine It was quickly quashed by the head surgeon who said that the vaccine couldn’t be a factor because the vaccine stays in the muscle of the arm and all of the proteins are gone within three days, which we now know is absolutely incorrect because this is not a traditional vaccine and the liposomes carry the gene therapy all over the body and the body continues to make the spike proteins in part. So, their lack of knowledge of the new vaccine was instrumental in a huge amount of our anguish.

Ingi still today battles with exhaustion after attempting basic exercise. She has blood pressure issues for which is medicated and may have to be for life. Her renal function has plateaued at around twenty five percent. She is still unable to work and if often feeling depressed and sad. All of this alongside the legal battles are just the beginning.


Opinion pieces don’t necessarily reflect the position of our news site but of our Opinion writers.

*Note We Deliberately Miss Spell Some Words or Add Capital Letters To Get Around Big Tech Censoring.

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