by Morley Evans
On September 1st, I'll be 66 years old. I am unbelievably lucky. I am younger and healthier than I ever was at any time in my previous life which ended on June 28, 2000. In a few days, I will be 13 years old on my birthday, June 28. I am going to the gym after lunch where I will squat 145 pounds (5 sets of 5 reps) and do overhead presses and deadlifts. Powerlifting agrees with me.
In January 1992, I went to a doctor (Alport) who prescribed Zocor to lower my cholesterol "to prevent a heart attack." He denied I was in pain for four years and referred me 100 times to others for the next two years after another doctor (Stuart McMillan) diagnosed fibromyalgia. Then another doctor (Cenaiko) advised me to stop taking all the meds Alport had prescribed. Next, Alport's successor (Annandale) prescribed Lipitor to lower my cholesterol "to prevent a heart attack." After being tortured for eight years, I was in a coma in 2000 and was saved from death by another doctor (Buwembo). I saw 30 doctors and therapists during this period.
I spent the next 12 years recovering through my own efforts at my own expense. Twenty years of my life had been thrown away for nothing. The years before that were no bed of roses, thanks to doctors in Regina. I have spent a great deal of time since August 2001 — when I discovered why I had been sick — looking for justice and compensation. I learned that there is no justice in Canada or in Australia or in the United Kingdom or in the USA when dealing with medical abuse. Everyone takes a big chance when he goes to a doctor. If he isn't lucky, there is nothing he can do about it. Patients are far less lucky than they imagine they will be when the go to a doctor.
I have had a rather expensive education — the very few people have had — but I have been rewarded with a new life. Will I live another 60 years? I might. It feels like I will. I am like Job. Exactly like Job.
Over the last ten years, I have looked at things most people here know nothing about. I know that hundreds of thousands of people in Iraq have been killed and millions there have been displaced. Their lives have been destroyed or terminated. They are not better off. I know what is going on in Libya, Syria, Egypt, Somalia, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Yemen. I know the record of the United States from 1775 to the present. I know the history of Israel. I know our own history. We have nothing to be very proud of.
The glass is half empty when it is half full. That's the truth.
Our priest at St. Matthew's Anglican church explained the story of Jesus and the ten lepers. He said that the lepers had been outcasts who had had a hard life. They had a hard time staying alive. Once they were healed, they still had a hard time. They had no friends, no money, no homes, no families. Jesus healed them, but he didn't solve all their problems for them. Nine lepers went off to deal with their remaining problems, only one came back to thank Jesus. That's why I go to church. That's why I care about the dispossessed and the victims of the criminally insane people who run our world. I am much luckier than the lepers. I have a family. I have a new life. I am like Job.
I recovered through my own efforts and at my own expense, but I didn't do it all by myself. I discovered important clues someone left here and there that helped me to escape from the maze. A few people helped me. Most were part of the problem. I think God delivered me from Hell. Believe it, or not. I have learned this important lesson: most people are happy inside the maze and they would like to drag me back inside.
Love to you, Juliette and the girls,