Sunday, May 5, 2013

Sliding Doors

Another thing I believe was a feature of my being tortured as a child, is sliding doors.  I've described being panicked when a woman said something to me and got an odd looking "box" out and started laying out instruments.

This was done when I had finished throwing up from a charcoal detox, where Dr. Gottleib was the doctor in charge.  They did an okay job of this.  It was after this throwing up, that someone came into the room and began doing something that caused me to panic and pull out the IV from my arms to leave.

The other thing that I have noticed I have a subconscious aversion to, is sliding doors for a hospital room.  Or full-length "glass doors" that are locking someone into a room.  So I believe this must have been a feature of the location (or one of the locations) where I was tortured.

The first time I noticed something like this, was in the room where I was having a charcoal detox at Central Washington Hospital.  There were sliding glass doors there and it had an influence on how I felt in that location.

Then, when the Wenatchee Valley Clinic got a new building of their own, their own hospital, when I was going to ER with a migraine, triggered by military/aerospace defense, they told me to go "into that room" and it was a room with sliding doors that were opaque.  I wouldn't go.  I was afraid to go into any hospital room that had doors on it that were glass.  Just looking at one, made me feel panicked.  I remember when they told me to go "into that room", the nurses were also observing me for my reaction and smirking and I sensed they, some of them, knew why I was reluctant.

So I wouldn't go in those rooms. I said, "I'll wait until one with curtains is open."   Then I was in a curtained room and I was being tortured in that hospital room.  This has happened to me at a few hospitals.  When I say "tortured" for these following hospitals, I mean, by use of military/NASA and medical remote technology.  This is what the government uses now, instead of "electroshock" and "electrocution" methods that require someone to be in a facility in-person.

Wenatchee Valley Medical Center.
Vanderbilt University Hospital.
Columbia Valley Community Health.

I was not tortured by this form of technology at the Central Washington Hospital, but I was taken there after being tortured with my son at our house, and so then I was still under their "observation"--also I had the bad childbirth experience there.  However, it was at WVMC that technology was used against me, in-person, and the same thing was repeated and applied when I was in Nashville, TN at Vanderbilt University Hospital, when the FBI had told me to go there.

Wherever it was that I was tortured as a toddler, and baby, they had sliding glass doors.  My parents later bought a house when I was a teenager, and put in French window glass doors.  I wasn't freaked out by it, but it also wasn't a hospital setting with opaque glass sliding doors to a medical room.

It is actually possible that I was flown to Quebec for torture as a kid.  If my parents crossed a border, and someone flew us out on a plane, I'd have no memory of it at that age.  I am just thinking, since I have had a panic reaction, associated reliably to being tortured as a kid, to sliding glass doors for medical rooms, my Mom might have selected French sliding glass doors for a reason, for me to figure out sometime that someone French was involved.  Or, as we all know, Canadian-French because in Canada, they speak both English and French.

For any of my surgeries that I've had in the past, I was given a sedative before they took me into any operating room.  I never saw anything and was unconscious before we got there.  As a kid however, I must have seen something, probably many times, and probably the same sliding doors.

As a kid and teen and later, I went through "haunted houses" at carnivals and to all kinds of things, and nothing scared me.  The glass sliding doors of a medical room, did panic me, and I had no reason for knowing why.
This is the kind of thing the U.S. and Canada did to me as a kid.  This is also why Yulia Tymoshenko had her glasses case with lettering next to her arm as she showed bruises and scaring.  This is also the kind of thing they did to my son Oliver, except they didn't have to put him in a room for it.    This kid looks like a "pumpkin" too, doesn't she, with that thing on her head.  Of course, the U.S. has great plans for her future.  There's Cinderella. This is, of course, who the U.S. wants to be sucking Prince Williams penis, and of course, the CIA will pay for her welfare and upkeep until they have her in the role they have always hoped for her to be in.  This is, afterall, where all the rich and famous and "those who work hard enough for the American Dream" find their dream.
"In America, if you work HARD enough, you can do whatever you want."
What was MY number fuckers.  I got one from the U.S. and one from Canada too.  So what's my fucking MKUltra number.
I was tortured, most likely, at The Royal Jubilee Hospital in Victoria, B.C.  It is named after Queen Victorias Golden Jubilee in 1888.  When I was 6, for my 6th birthday, I had a crown made for my head with 666 on it.  I think it was 666 because that hospital was dedicated by the Royal British Family in 1888.  They added a total of 6 operating rooms later.  This came at the recommendation of a Marine named Lord Lister.  The main operating room was brick and octogon shaped.   
After a woman from my church saw a photo of me as a kid, with the crown and 666, she thought it was funny, and she, a former Marine (which I didn't know until she moved in) rented a room from me.  All of a sudden, after this, a man broke into my house and held us all hostage.  I had thought it was a real event at the time, and now I think Shirina was in on it. What happened, is he made it all sound creepy, but what he actually did, was look through the whole house, and go through all of my personal photos.  Who is that interested...what "burglar" is interested enough to go through a bunch of MY photos unless they're connected to military or CIA and wanted to make sure I didn't have evidence on them.  Or about someone.  He spent hours looking through them.  He specifically noted one that was taken with me and Kelly Halvorson, at Larry and Marylynn Kargman's house in Livingston, New Jersey.  He pointed it out to me and asked about it.  He left it on the top of the pile.  That, and photos of me with Lenny Schwabe.  One of Bryan Parker.  When police came, they photographed my photos.  Supposedly, police were photographing the photos for "fingerprints".  Actually, they were taking photos of my personal photos.
The Prosecutor never asked for my testimony or Monica's testimony.  The only person they care about, was the U.S. Marine, Shirina Edwin, who later said she found out she was "Italian royalty" and changed her last name to Grimaldi.  The Prosecutor was an Italian woman and she looked at me and Monica coldly and with disinterest.  Then she saw Shirina and smirked and invited her to talk to her.  She looked at Shirina the way someone looks at someone they already know.  It was a smile of familiarity.  We never heard anything else, except he went to jail. We were told not to tell anyone, no reporters, no one.  A year later, after police had photographed my photos, I was raped by Josh Gatov in a premeditated rape with Det. Italian Brian Grose covering for him.
The man who broke into our house, used a knife to stab into doorframes and hold the entire time.  He first had a gun and Shirina was the one to be next to the door.  Then he said "I need a knife".
This is exactly what Josh Gatov did.  He had a pocketknife with him and then said it wasn't good enough and "I need a different knife."  So he was then equipped with 2 weapons instead of one, like the man who held us hostage.  Does Josh Gatov know Larry Kargman?
Alvaro Pardo was taking photos of my photos the same way those cops did.  He took photos of me in the hospital after I was tortured at his house in Germantown, MD too.  The night I tried to sleep on a different bed and was tortured to the point of not being able to walk, so Alvaro could pretend to be a good person and take me to the hospital where he then took photos of me in a hospital gown, in bed, hooked up to an IV.  I had my blood drawn too.  It was an unnecessary hospital bill, and who was escorting me around?  The FBI agent Pardo.  To be tortured.

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