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(LifeSiteNews) – My daughter had a cardiology appointment at the Halifax Infirmary this week. We showed up at the front doors and there was a line-up to enter. I have never seen a queue at the entrance to a hospital before. It looked like a Soviet bread line. The hospital wasn’t choked with COVID-19 patients, it turned out; the slow-down was a security post inside the door where a guard was stopping everyone, and demanding to see their proof of vaccination papers.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I thought. A few days before the visit, I received one of those now-standard pre-visit check-up calls, where they asked a list of COVID questions: Are you feverish? Have you travelled outside of the province in the past 14 days? Have you tested positive for COVID-19? Has anyone you know tested positive for COVID-19? No, to all. Nothing about our vaccination status.

When the mall cop at the door asked for our papers, and I said we didn’t have any, he said we weren’t allowed in. “I don’t think that’s right,” I objected. “She has an appointment in cardiology. It’s an essential service. I think you better let me speak to someone.”

So he took our names and led us to a little holding section in a windowed area with some chairs where a guy in his 60s sat. He shook his head as we approached.

“This is insane,” I said.

“I assume you’re in the same boat as me,” he said. “I forgot my papers.”

“No. We’re not vaccinated.”

“Why’s that?” he grumbled.

“Well, Kate here is under 20. That means her risk of dying, even if she got COVID, is basically zero. I figure it’s not in her best interest to take an experimental shot with side effects. There’s been more than 17,000 deaths reported with the shots. Lots of kids are getting heart inflammation after them, too.”

He looked at Kate. She is 19, but looks about 12, and is mentally about five. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kate,” she beamed at him. (She hasn’t worn a mask through this ordeal, except, ironically, at the dentist, where they make her wear a plastic face shield to walk from the front desk to the chair, and then have her open her mouth.) Kate has Williams Syndrome, a common feature of which is a heart stenosis, and another is a very friendly nature. Over the past year, school staff have instructed her out of her congenial inclination to shake people’s hands whenever she meets someone new. She just smiled.

“Don’t you think this is nuts?” I asked the guy. “What’s the difference between me and you? We can both get infected and we can both transmit the virus. If there’s no difference in that, why segregate us?”

His answer is proof of the incredible staying power of early mass marketing of messages, and the scientific illiteracy of most of the population that can be easily swindled by manipulated statistics.

“Yeah, but I’m 94% protected,” he said, “and you are only 6% protected.”

I started to explain to him that the 94% protection number was a Relative Risk and not an Absolute Risk Reduction…but I stopped. It was obvious that his belief in the potion was cemented. It wouldn’t matter if I explained how drug companies report statistics in a way that makes one vaccinated person getting infected in 22,000, versus two unvaccinated people infected in 22,000 reportable as “100%” protection since two is twice one. Another way to consider it is that 22,000 people need to get the shots to prevent one person getting infected.

“The vaccine protection wanes,” I said, taking a different tact. “A study just published in the Lancet says it’s gone in a few months.”

“That’s not true,” he said.

“That’s why they have the booster shots,” I replied. “Israel is rolling out shot number four.”


“Well, you have to take the flu shot every year, so I guess it’s just like the flu,” he said.

“Yeah, COVID shot every five months.”

I looked at my phone. We were a quarter of an hour late now. I hoped I didn’t have to drive more than an hour home without getting Kate’s heart scan.

“If they let you in and not me, I’m really gonna be ticked,” the guy said.

“You should be,” I replied. “The whole thing’s insane.”

“You know, Pfizer is pulling in more than $33 billion dollars this year from its shots. It’s not charity work,” I said, trying to deflect his antagonism to the correct source, and find common ground. “Pfizer’s CEO is paying himself $29 million this year.”

“Well, I don’t mind a man making a living. If he’s put in his time and made it up the ladder, that’s his affair.”

“They’re corporate criminals,” I said. “Did you know that Pfizer got the biggest fine in medical history – $2.3 billion dollars for falsely marketing one of its drugs? Lots of people died.”

A new security guard, a young guy, arrived on the scene. He beckoned us to follow him.

“Good luck,” I said to the guy, genuinely meaning it.

The security guard brought us to another wall lined with plastic chairs and asked us to wait. When he returned, he said, “Sorry, they’re not going to let you in.”

“My daughter has a cardiology appointment. It’s not an option,” I said. He was obviously not making the decision. “I need to talk to someone in charge.”

He gestured to a windowed office where there were two women. I explained through the Plexiglas what was happening. “Look, if this hospital wants a discrimination lawsuit for denying essential care to a special-needs person, I will go there. This is a violation of basic human rights. I will also be on the phone to the media,” I added, thinking then that the mainstream media couldn’t care less about the care of the unclean un-inoculated. Their messaging encourages people to hate, the sort of people who’d tell Kate to go off and die of heart disease, since she’s not had Pfizer’s profit-generating injection. The media has never cared if people like Kate were selectively aborted or euthanized before, so this is nothing new.

Behind their masks, I couldn’t tell if the women were angry or friendly. One woman came out the door.

“Quebec and Ontario just walked back their mandates for healthcare workers because thousands of doctors and nurses don’t agree with this, and now this hospital is going to deny care to a patient?” I continued. “This is crazy.”

She nodded. “I agree with you, hon. Let me see what I can do.”

Kate and I were left waiting with the security guard. “Is this what freedom looks like, or is this what segregation looks like?” I asked him. “Does this look like Canada to you?” He shook his head.

“I didn’t want to get the shots either,” he said. “I had to, because I can’t work or do anything.”

“It’s mad,” I said. “No government should make people take medical injections they don’t want. Now they’re trying to divide us against each other when the government is the one oppressing people.” He nodded.

The woman from the office came from the elevator and said we were allowed to go up.

As we headed for the elevator, I saw the vaccinated guy they wouldn’t let in without his papers yelling at the entrance security guy: “You let HER through and she doesn’t even believe it works!” Yikes.

“C’mon Kate, let’s go see how your heart’s pumping.”

The receptionists at cardiology were a little frosty, but I didn’t know if this was because they had not wanted us to come in, or because we were an hour late by then. The nurses who weighed Kate and gave her EKG were cheerful. If they were mad at us unvaccinated heathens, they didn’t let on.

The cardiologist who came to see us afterwards was a youngish guy and seemed to be smiling behind his mask. He engaged with Kate directly and he was kind to her, so he passed my jerk litmus test. Everything looked fine with her heart – hopefully good to go for another five years.

Then he said, “Let’s talk about the COVID vaccine.”

I told him I know of young people who’ve wound up in hospital after a shot, with severe chest pain. “Health Canada had 970 reports of myocarditis after the shots the last time I looked, and the average age is 27. The reports are way higher on VAERS [the U.S. Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System] and VigiAccess [the World Health Organization’s vaccine adverse event database]. It’s alarming.”

His eyebrows went up. “We actually had a briefing on this,” he said, “and you know, way more people get myocarditis and pericarditis after COVID infection than after the vaccine.” I suspected that, like everything else about COVID numbers, there was something a little dodgy in this public health myocarditis calculation, so I just asked him directly: “So you’ve not seen any myocarditis after the vaccine?” I saw just a flicker in his eyes – and I would bet he has.

“You know, people are vanishing from this disease,” he answered. Seriously, he used the word, “vanishing.” Like a COVID rapture.

In all of Nova Scotia, there have been about 100 deaths from COVID-19 since the pandemic began. (Actually, it’s 102 in more than 19 months).To put this in perspective, there were a total of 9,965 deaths in the province in just a 12-month period over 2020 and 2021. So more than 100 times as many people “vanished” from other causes in less time – and non-COVID heart disease would have been a leading cause of the vanishing on his radar.

The average age of death from COVID is 78 here. True, that has gone down a bit. It was 80.5 through all of 2020, and that’s the average age of death in the province for the five years preceding the pandemic. They must be dying younger since the vaccine rolled out. I wish I’d asked him how many young people he’d seen with myocarditis.

I told him that I don’t trust drug companies like Pfizer, and I said I was worried that there’s zero data on long term effects of these “novel platform” mRNA vaccines. “Kate’s not even at risk here,” I said. “How long did it take them to figure out the problems with drugs like Thalidomide and DES before they pulled them?”

He said he’s been in the ICU with the dying patients, and he feels differently.

I was trying to imagine. Doctors see people die every day. This had to be an emotional plea of a sort, because there has been no pandemic chaos here. No bodies in the streets. No vanishing. The hospitals were empty during the lockdown.

The year before COVID hit, I once waited seven hours for Kate to get a blood test in an emergency room. We had gone in twice before, and left after a couple of hours because I thought we might have better luck at a different time. We had to go the ER for a blood test because she is one of thousands of people on Canada’s public health system who are waitlisted for a GP. We’ve been waiting three years.

I went to the same hospital during the lockdown and there was one guy in the waiting room – he was a hospital security guard. A nurse came to greet me. If you are Canadian, you know this is very abnormal. There is no greeting nurse at the door, usually. But during the pandemic lockdown to “flatten the curve” and “spare the hospitals the surge” – there was not a single patient in the waiting room. Bizarre.

“Yes,” I said to the nice cardiologist. “It must be difficult, but others have worked with COVID and they don’t want the shots. Quebec and Ontario have withdrawn their vaccine mandate for staff because they’d have to fire too many doctors and nurses.”

He shrugged, and said, “Well, you’re not going to get me to not recommend it. It’s your choice.”

“But it’s not my choice,” I said. Surely, he knows that everyone who hasn’t rushed to get their shots is under intense pressure to submit to Justin Trudeau and Teresa Tam’s diktats. I know people who’ve left everything they’ve built in Canada, and fled south of the border to find freedom again, and to protect their children. I know people who’ve quit their jobs because they won’t take the shots, and many others who’ve only taken the vaccines because they had to so they can do what it is their right to do – make a living, fly on a plane, go to school or a movie. Kate can’t go swimming anymore, or to her Friday evening friends club at the university. She can’t attend a basketball or hockey game, and we are barred from restaurants, and even from sitting on patios now. We are untermensch.

The problem with the fact that so many people have submitted to the diktats is that once they have taken the shots (and not been injured), it’s not their problem anymore. Enshrined constitutional rights are theirs, so long as they do whatever the corporate-controlled government tells them to do. Their freedom is an illusion.

“I was late because they didn’t want to let us in here to see you, because we’re not vaccinated,” I said.

“Oh really?” The flicker in his eyes again. “That’s not right.”

“No, it’s not.”

On the way out, I waved at the lady in the window who got us in. She and the other lady waved back, and she gave us a thumbs up. I gave her a thumbs up in return.

I waved at the security guard I’d sat with, and gave him a peace sign. He gave one back.