This Sunday is Fathers' Day. Sure, I like being celebrated, and I like celebrating my son. But there is a darker side, which reveals one the biggest chips on my shoulder. Two fathers dead, before their time. My father. Fred, AND my father-in-law, Joe.
Sure Medicine is good for emergencies. But when they contribute to emergencies, when they do not respond properly and promptly to emergencies, people die. So many consider Medicine and all its personnel, its techniques and its pronouncements to be perfect, kind of like a cult. Here, though, at THE HARTE OF CHIROPRACTIC, we are the ANTI-CULT. Wake up, and wake up others.
My father had a plate glass and store front construction company. He would leave the house every morning at 7, and come back 9 or 10 at night, six days a week. Sundays, he'd go out and do estimates. When we had blizzards (that means a whole lot of snow for you Californians), and the roads were closed, he's throw his 70 lb. toolbox on his shoulder and walk to the shop. For anyone who knew him, they should have paid serious attention when he stayed home sick.
Fred had his first heart attack at 40, just about the time that he was diagnosed with diabetes. When he was 53, he stayed home. Called his doctor, who was also a personal friend. He said, "It's just a flu." Second day: "It's just a flu." Thirds day: "It's just a flu." On the fourth night, my mother called the doctor. She told him that my father felt like a steamroller was going over his chest, his lips and his fingers and toes were blue. My mother didn't know that that was a major heart attack. He didn't tell her. He didn't even call an ambulance. He told my mother, who didn't drive, to get him to the hospital. She called a cab. She had to drag my father down the stairs to the cab.
EMERGENCY ROOM: (I've worked the ER as an orderly. I know the emergency cardiac routine. Some people are saved, if it all goes down on time.) The cretins there didn't want to admit my father. Finally, after a big argument, they did. Emergency cardiac procedures? No! They put him on a gurney, gave him a shot of Demerol, and pushed him aside, where he died three hours later. He was 53.
The doctor lied on the death certificate. He said that he was at the house the night before.
When his "good friend," the doctor, showed up at the funeral, it took six men to hold me down.
Oh, the drug my father was prescribed for his diabetes was taken off the market some months after he died. Of course, it increases the chance of heart attack several-fold. Another medical miracle.
That's enough for now. I'll save the story of the killing of my father-in-law for next time, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week.
WHAT TO TAKE AWAY FROM ALL THIS? Medicine, crap, uncaring, sloppy Medicine killed my father at 53. He was taken away from my mother and I. My wife, Carole, and my son, Abraham, were never able to know him.
How many fathers, mothers, kids, parents are killed before their time? How many are made ill, are kept ill, having horrible lives, becoming a terrible burden to their families because of crap, uncaring, sloppy Medicine?
In our popular culture, it seems that everyone knows all the medical BS, and just about everyone accepts it all, even after one or more loved ones are badly sickened or killed. It's a cult. People, everyone you know, need to know what's wrong, there.
Perhaps even more important, everyone needs to know about real health Care through Chiropractic, not just for back pain, but to pursue Health.
Good health, bad health, is not a matter of luck. As Dr. D.D. Palmer said: "For every effect, there is a cause." Teach them this. Teach them about subluxation. Teach them about adjustments. Teach them about Innate Intelligence. Thank you.
The Innate in me blesses the Innate in you
Dr Harte
Warrior for Truth, Biological Justice and the Chiropractic Way!
