You can only take so much abuse from government before it becomes intolerable. Then you either commit suicide or end up in jail. The government doesn’t care if it means having to admit that it covers-up criminal activity all the time when it’s done by government employees. They also don’t care who they have to destroy to save their precious Health department from being investigated by the International Criminal Court of Terrorist tactics to stay in power.
Government likes to take someone (such as myself) and expose them to premeditated murder and then make me suck it all up with the resultant cover-up. The WA government then just leaves me to struggle and finally fall under the weight of being made an accessory to the murder of a quadriplegic patient in a public hospital.
And what sort of response do I get when I approach the WA Justice department over this horrendous case? … NOTHING!!!
I will not stop reminding the WA public of how vulnerable they are in State care because these people conspired together to ruin my life. They did a bang-up job too. The only problem for them is I’ve managed to stay alive long enough to work out how I was set up and earmarked for destruction.
I had to take it off-line for a while as I was getting too angry and needed to put some space between all this shit and myself for a while. Anger only leads to hatred which is one of the most corrosive emotions I can think of and ends up in wanting someone dead. Contrary to some peoples idea of me I can’t abide the idea of conspiring to kill another being. Human or not. So I have to find cover when I’m feeling this way. People think they’re intrinsically good but we’re all capable of wanting bad things to happen to others if the mood doth take them.
I registered with the RC into nursing homes but am still waiting to be ‘invited’ to make a submission. I will do what I have to do and tell them what I experienced but I expect nothing at best and a whole pile of trouble as the cover-up is continued at worst. I have no illusions that my story can be so easily denied and there could be criminal implications if ever it was proved to be true. It all relies on the honesty of the other nurses that night. That’s why I’ve never tried to do what I’m doing now. I’m only doing it because I realize it’s something that’s weighed heavily on my life. Even that wouldn’t be enough except for what happened to me as I walked that corridor when Mr Scriven finally died. I find it hard to believe in anything but that experience even if only accepted as a reaction to what I witnessed that night should, at least, give the authorities some pause when thinking about how staff are forced to deal with a situation like that.
I know the truth, however, that I experienced something of the supernatural that night and that sure knowledge has always set me apart from the rest of my contemporaries. The ironies are rich with all this as I have to look after my 86yr old mother who has severe dementia now and can’t communicate. I can’t place her in a aged care facility as she would be a sitting duck for nurses such as the two who were looking after Mr Scriven. Most people would trust the system but how can I? I saw first hand how the system covers for murderers. There’s no easy way through all this for me. What could I expect, though, I’m the last of the family standing so I suppose all the bad karma has to flow like mud to me. Part of my family curse.
Sometimes it takes a while for things to sink in. Sometimes decades. Actions are being taken and have been taken that take a long time to develop their consequences. You must know yourself before you can apprehend correctly the games being played around you lest you become a pawn in one of them.
Can Uncle-Daddy take back control of his chopper or will Minister Q take up Frydenberg’s offer to transition his ears? There’s only one way to find out! That’s to keep this blog on your brouser while sending me large amounts of political capital in brown paper bags that I can squander at will. I’ll accept Pork-barrells as a down payment on a string attached but only in perpetuity.