Dear J. B. Handley,
I am a reader. I read a ton of books each year. I read for me and I read out loud to my son John, a joy we both share. But I cannot for the life of me, read your book, "How to End the Autism Epidemic" because the print is too blurry. I get a few lines down, and suddenly the print starts to blur, I have to stop and wipe my eyes and blink and try to read again. Strangely enough, I am not having to cope with PTSD over this like I do when strangers in public places shame or bash me for wearing my Generation Rescue tee-shirts. No, what I am feeling is a slow simmering boil, because this did not have to happen to you. It simply did not have to happen to a generation of now adult children, people like my son John. I know it didn't have to happen because they knew it was happening. Here is how I know.
When John regressed he crashed, he didn't just regress. I was wild seeking help. I went to a local children's' hospital where we stayed 3 days, where our bill was a whopping $43,000...why our insurance didn't pay is another long story...and no a childrens medical network hospital will not pick up the tab for you sorry, no I don't know where all that money they collect does go, but I digress. This diagnoses was "His brain is shutting his body down, take him home and let him die. Get lots of photos made to remember him by." Nice use of funds there.
I am not the kind of Mom to take no for an answer. About a month later I was on the phone with MetaMetrix labs in Georgia, y'all may now know they do a lot of the DAN! work, but this was before the DAN! was formed. They sent me the lab kit, and offered to help, all I had to do was get my doctor to agree and draw the blood, I would collect everything else. I got his doctor to agree to the blood draw. I collected pee and poop and put it on dry ice, I drove to the doctors office and waited for the blood draw. A nurse came out and informed me my doctor has been pulled away on an emergency, I could have someone else do the draw or come back another day. I informed her the Fed-Ex box at my feet had poop in it and no, I couldn't come back, I didn't care who did the draw, just get me someone.
We were taken into a room. A very angry doctor burst in shouting he could not believe Charles would sign off on letting me do my own lab work, and he was not wanting to be a party to this. I ask for the blood draw and he ask what I was looking for. I told him I didn't really know, but I had no answers and was going to get them or die trying. He held my son's medical records in his hands, looked at me and said, "you mean you don't know what is wrong with your son?" and I said, "If I knew would I be doing this?" and he flipped those records, stopped read a page, read more, flipped them again, then told the nurse to leave the room and he shut the door. He sat down on a little rolling chair and rolled into my face, got knee to knee with me, eyeball to eyeball and said, "Mrs. Bailey, you son is vaccine damaged he is ruined, he is brain damaged now, you need to stop this and drop him off in Oxford this afternoon and go have another baby before you are too old. Forget this one." (Oxford is where the home for disabled is located) I honestly felt my body fall through the concrete floor and resurface. I ask him to report it, and help John get compensation. He stood up, looked at me, anger shooting from his eyes and informed me they never report it, they never turn it in. We argued over why. ( it's really about the money) and then I demanded the blood draw, I was going to take my son home and do all I could to help him. I got my blood draw. Weeks later after I had the results I confronted John's doctor over the vaccine damaged and he too admitted it had happened, but told me if I spoke up, it was my word against two doctors who would say I was a crazy up set mother, that I needed to shut up or they would sue me for slander. I never saw either of them again....
I was on a business trip when the labs came in from MetaMetrix. BINGO my son was dying from malnutrition, my very excited husband told me we had hit pay dirt as we spoke long distance. When I got home I saw something else odd in the labs, high amounts of heavy metals. Our story starts there. We, Mom and Dad without any help dug in and started learning all we could. We knew his gut was in shreds and not absorbing nutrition, but the nearest gastro pediatrician refused to help us calling John, "A retard that needs to be housed." He cold have been in on ground breaking research, but no, he threw us out of his office. Another doctor when I ask about the heavy metals accused me of Munchhausen by proxy. All of the before the DAN!...in the early years of the internet, before google or yahoo groups...and long before Jamison was born. By the time he was born I was one of the crazy Mom's telling horror tails of vaccine damage nobody wants to hear.
John is now 26. He will never recover. I could cope with that a lot better if IF by the time Jamison was born, you knew what I knew, but you learned it just like I did. That is criminal. Time for the lies and cover ups to end. I pray your book gets into the hands of very parent, and grandparent in the world. I hope and pray doctors wake up......
Thank you for having the courage to write a book so truthful, I cannot read it for the tears in my eyes. -John's Mom aka mercurymom