I would like my Nixon scans and the letter from July 01 citing spinal damage in 4 places


V for vulnerable

but not a victim.

I suppose that the next step is to take Chelsea & Westminster Hospital to the Parliamentary Health Ombudsman. Will that achieve what I want?

I want Chelsea & Westminster to admit everything that happened to me.
I want huge changes in how they treat people with mental health conditions.
I want the people who kept me in pain, and tried to limit my life span, tried before a jury.

My abuse in the A&E department at Chelsea & Westminster hospital was orchestrated. The fact they could leave someone in isolation for so long and it not be questioned. Ignoring someone who was begging for pain relief.
The fact that the administrator had the authority to deny my consultant head and arm CT scans. (She knew that they wouldn’t have been able to get me into the scanner and I assume this would have led to another department finding out I hadn’t had pain relief.)

Why not the press? Perhaps but I wouldn’t want to work in a place where this became public knowledge. There are lots of good people working for this hospital. I didn’t see them as they have no training with mental health and didn’t know what to do. What these staff were being told was not the situation and they didn’t have the experience/training to question what they were being presented with.

I will never be a victim because of what happened to me, and if I get my way, nor will anyone else.

U is for Unipolar

The strange thing with depression is that once I accepted I was a depressive, life became so much easier. I go through trauma and I get depressed.

When I was younger I thought it would be so much easier if I was bipolar. At least that way the lows would have been offset.

I can predict when my depression is going to hit as I get a couple of weeks after a traumatic event where I lose everything and 90% of it turns up in the fridge. The fridge becomes a Pandora’s box of wonders. Paint brushes, keys, hats, the odd book – all turn up in the fridge.

I automatically analyse the crap out of everything and I reckon my fridge becomes the Mecca of my belongings as I also lose my appetite at this time. I think it is because I am conscious of not being hungry so keep going to the fridge to try and eat. I must take food out and just leave what I am holding in the fridge.

Unlike the swift mood swings associated with bipolar disorder, I have a couple of weeks where I put together my strategy for how to get through the black clouds to come.

I do this with structure. I am incredibly gentle on myself but don’t allow myself to wallow in self pity. This is my life. This is who I am, so get over myself.
The routine helps enormously as if I have had a really bad day, I can focus on the fact I’ve stuck to my plan and achieved 3 things each day. That way I know that a bad day is just a bad day. I am not going back to the depths of hell.

For anyone reading this who has depression.

Get structure in your life, your head is your own worst enemy.
Be gentle but realise you are not a pathetic useless creature.
And, lower your expectations of yourself. You can always raise them again later!

And my own top tip.

Accept your depression. Whether it is a fleeting moment or a life time embrace. If someone is judging me on my mental health without getting to know me, I don’t want them in my life.

T is for Thomas

This is the hardest thing to write because even by putting the truth down, I feel like I am letting him down.

Dr Paul Thomas was the UCC out of hours doctor who took away the Tramadol and saved my life.

He was amazing as he knew straight away that the Tramadol was causing the seizures. He took all Tramadol away and asked for the discharge sheet.

When I was able to stand, I gave him the discharge sheet and he took it. Read it. Got up and walked out. Wow, I thought, he really cares.

So, it came as a shock to find that Dr Thomas wrote the following:

By removing the discharge sheet, it allowed Chelsea and Westminster Hospital to pretend, for a year, that I had been discharged at 10:40 in the morning. This would have been before the first dose of Tramadol had been given at 2:23pm, and, of course, before the first seizure had occurred in the CT scanner.

It was only when I managed to get the prescribed medicines copy of the discharge sheet that the hospital’s story changed and they agreed that I was discharged in the evening of the 19th Feb 2016.

So, to recap. I have been diagnosed as bipolar by an orthopedic consultant Mr Henry Magill 19th Feb 2016, and two days later, the convulsive seizures where my body was so swollen, is a relapse of my bipolar disorder.

I will never back any complaint made against Professor Paul Thomas. He is the man who saved my life.

He chose to falsify what happened but would he have been so eager to cover up for a friend if he had known that the Tramadol – which the hospital have confirmed caused the seizures – had been doubled for my departure?
I hope not.

S is for SMITH

Well Mr R Smith. I am the outcome of your little experiment. A very cross depressive. One could almost say a MAD COW.

That really was nasty putting a ring through my lip. The infection, Mr Smith, you really went to town. Talk about puss yellow within 12 hours. Not that anyone cared.
So, Dr Valerie Bernhardt collect 6 phials of blood in the A&E on the 17th. 3 to be tested that day and 3 to be tested on Friday. You needed a clean blood test for Friday to hide the concoction of drugs and infection that you had pumped into my system.

Getting the lad to ask me if I was a Mad Cow meant that I knew this had been done on purpose. This meant, Mr Smith, that getting antibiotics was a priority. Of course, couldn’t get them on the ward – no infection – nurses unable to see puss filled circle on lip! But, defo once home. Although, you will be happy to know that my throat was closing up and making breathing during the seizures rather difficult.

I have worked very hard Mr Smith. I saved and saved for the deposit on my home and I went without to pay off my mortgage. Ok, it’s shared housing but a £100,000 loan paid off by the age of 40.

I did it working for charities. Mainly Citizens Advice. The pay wasn’t good but you work for a charity for your own reasons. I worked for Citizens Advice because it kept me grounded. Hearing about other people’s problems put mine and my depression into prospective.

The charts added to the December bundle led straight to Serotonin Syndrome Mr Smith.

Serotonin syndrome (SS) is a group of symptoms that may occur following use of certain serotonergic medications or drugs.[1] The degree of symptoms can range from mild to severe.[2] Symptoms include high body temperature, agitation, increased reflexes, tremor, sweating, dilated pupils, and diarrhea.[1][2] Body temperature can increase to greater than 41.1 °C (106.0 °F). Complications may include seizures and extensive muscle breakdown.[2] It is a predictable consequence of excess serotonin on the central nervous system (CNS)

This has been a method for killing mental health patients in the States for over 3 decades. Doctors are automatically blacklisted now and insurances aren’t paying out.

In the A&E I had to be kept in pain so that I couldn’t leave. Therefore, no pain killers could be given.

The tricky bit next was that you had to get someone to prescribed oramorph on the ward. Very important as it was used as a cover for the Venlafaxine.
With Venlafaxine you prescribe codine not tramadol due to SS
With Oramorph you prescribe codine not tramadol due to SS
Having Oramorph as the reason for giving codine, covered the fact that I was on Venlafaxine. Venlafaxine was not mentioned in the hand over notes originally but the fact I was on it was added to the December bundle.

So, when Mr Henry Magill prescribed tramadol he was basing it on the fact that the last Oramorph had been given the previous morning and a safe time had passed to prevent SS. He was not basing it on the fact I had had Venlafaxine that morning. Therefore, he caused the SS unintentionally. He would have had no prior knowledge of the Venlafaxine from the anethetists department.

Also, Henry Magill sent me for a CT Head Scan when the confusion started and so I had my first seizure in the CT scanner. Henry created evidence of what was happening. He must be innocent!

R for result

Blood test results. If the faked blood test on 19th Feb 2016 was done using 40 hour old blood from that taken by Dr Bernhardt on 17th Feb 2016.

The Urea result: 4.9 on 17th Real 6.0 fake (Would this show that the blood tested was 40 hours old?)

Run through (Most of the evidence is logged already but need to tidy up images etc)

Wednesday 17th Feb 2016
I arrive by ambulance at Chelsea & Westminster Hospital – LAS sheet (London Ambulance Service)

LAS + me sent on tour of construction site by black, old administrator. Same woman meets us when we get back to A&E and tells LAS to put me in reception. This same person later refused Mr Noel Lee’s request for head and arm CT scans.
I am taken into a room and a woman reads through the LAS report. She then leaves and returns. She doesn’t ask about my injury or the pain she doesn’t explain why I am stuck in the wheelchair and unable to stand. I ask for pain relief and she gives me 2 cohydromol (over the counter pain relief) and then she wheels me back into reception. Later I am wheeled out of reception screaming as I am trying to cover myself up.
Wheeled into Dr Valerie Bernhardt – the world’s worst phlobotonist. She puts the hospital bracelet on straight away. She then starts her games and then takes 6 phials of blood. She then requests an x-ray.
I am then taken for an x-ray of my broken arm.
Wheeled back to A&E. Met by Ortho Consultant Mr Lee
He goes through my x-ray. Complete with broken ribs. He does the clerking and explained the forms before I signed each.
Dr Ali decides that she too wants to triage the LAS report. She asked me what had happened and as I start to say that I had sciatica and collapsed, she walks off.
She returns and takes a phone call from my consultant. She moans at him for taking notes, that I was her patient. She makes him return to her in A&E. Mr Lee is a totally changed man. He sat there in silence like a naughty school boy. Queen of the sadists is just flouncing around and then she starts this absurd screeching. Breach, breach, there’s been a breach. She then repeats this performance sporadically. Mr Lee leaves. Dr Ali AKA Queen Sadist shows me my broken ribs but doesn’t explain that that is why I can’t stand up. I now think I have a third, and more serious injury, deflating my lungs.

Wheeled into corridor in isolation and left for 3 hours.
Wheeled from A&E to Ward
Approx times now as feel exact are not necessary but have all in the operation bundle etc
03:00 Dr Ali kindly pays a visit to the ward and introduces me to an attractive blond nurse, as a mad cow.
04:00 Received first pain relief Oramorph. Medications chart was not provided by A&E so no pain relief could be given until they knew what I had had.
06:00 Visit from consultants who increase Oramorph to every 2 hours – this never happened.
08:00 Final pain relief (except that associated with operation late pm)
So kept in constant pain so I could not escape. The 1mg oral morphine was not enough to be able to get out of bed but I could get into a comfortable position.

16:00 Operation
19:00 Recovery – asked if I was a mad cow and had had ring put through lip whilst I was anaethatised.
20:00 Back on ward. Ward Sister ignores the NIL BY MOUTH I eat and then drink 2ltr bottle of water.
21:00 Requested sleeping tablets – told to take pain pump as it will knock me out
22:00 Start taking the pain pump and mouth on fire. Keep taking it to get rid of the pain.
23:00 Went bat shit crazy. Thought people were trying to kill me. Was convinced there was a ward full of dead people.

19th February 2016
03:00 Pulled the pain pump connection out of my arm.
10:45 Physio – with no pain relief and broken ribs.
14:23 First ever Tramadol
15:00 Mr Henry Magill comes round to discharge me. I am in awful pain and confused. Mr Henry Magill sends me for a CT head scan


19:40 Discharged with double to dose of tramadol.

I have reason to believe that if I had taken the higher dose of tramadol, I would have died, in the arms of my disabled mother as I slipped into a coma.

Q is for QUACK

The GMC response to my complaint. LOL (sic)


They have ignored every single piece of evidence I sent them. They also say that I blame Henry Magill. In my complaint I went out of my way to highlight that this wasn’t one single person. This is why it is so horrendous.

The hospital are aware of what is happening in their A&E department. Staff think that they are discharging their duty of care by telling people to put in formal complaints.

Staff associate the continually pretending to find a vein sick game with Dr Ali. It was Dr Bernhardt who had to give up on me! The pain was too great to feel a thing SMUCK!