Excerpt from "Safe and Effective, For Profit, A Paramedic's Story of American Genocide" Chapter Five: Sheep To The Slaughter https://fishersbook.com/ Previous part: https://poal.co/s/Vax/790275 Next part: https://poal.co/s/Vax/790961 >... It was a typical day, or the “new normal” type of day for me—typical calls. My ambulance was on the north side of Oklahoma City. A call dropped, which meant it came in, and I sprung into action. “Full arrest.” I jumped into the ambulance and raced to code the call, meaning we hauled ass to the patient’s location. The event occurred in what I call a “shot line.” A Pfizer “vaccine” clinic was set up in a building connected to a leading hospital. A patient who had already received their first vaccine was lying supine on the floor, CPR already in progress. I began working the code, fire department on scene, with clinic nursing staff present. As we were working trying to revive the patient, a nurse walked over to me and said “this is the second one in two weeks.” I will never forget that statement. It’s haunted me. Those words were not only startling, but acted as a wrecking ball that brought down many bricks in the wall of lies built around my mind. “Safe,” I remember thinking, “This shot isn’t safe.” While working the code, I looked over my shoulder and saw no one leaving the line. A patient was lying there in Corpse Pose after receiving the jab with healthcare, paramedics, and the fire department scrambling to save a life. And people just stared. Maybe they thought he had a bad burrito. A person was being defibrillated, CPR in progress. To most people, that was the closest they’d ever come to death. Most had not even seen a dead body aside from in a casket. And yet, they stood there dutifully waiting for their own death shots. The scene was horrific. It literally looked like cattle standing in line to be slaughtered. Like the shit-stained elderly care facilities, this image has haunted my nightmares ever since. I can’t seem to wash it out of my mind. In the back of my mind, it’s an image of humanity’s worst. A dangerous experimental gene therapy treatment nefariously marketed to a frightened population who are standing, watching a person die in front of them, and they don’t have the courage, conviction, nor common sense to get up and walk away. I didn’t take the jab. Three of my four children didn’t take it. Most of my close friends aren’t “vaccinated.” You had a choice. Standing in that line like sheep to the slaughter: you made the wrong decision. In a moment of clarity, I swallowed and spit out the words, directed at the nurse who muttered earlier, “second one in two weeks.” “Second one in two weeks?” I repeated, wanting it not to be true. As we placed the patient on the backboard for transport she answered me. “Yes.” And then she solemnly walked away. I knew that she had been first in line for the shot, too. That her superior had made sure every nurse on staff was already double jabbed. She may even have still had the bandaid under her blue polyester scrubs. In that moment, I felt compassion for her, an ignorant criminal administering a death shot she had been bullied, berated, and manipulated into taking and then giving to others. I wondered how she slept that night. I knew that I would be certainly tossing and turning. ...