Post-Vac - the covered-up disaster E-Book

Jörg-Heiner Möller

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 442

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Those who suffer never have the desire to remain silent. Those who do not suffer, on the other hand, benefit from suffering. It is a move on the chessboard of power, a hidden threat, an invitation to remain silent ... Some were eagerly awaiting it, driven by fear and anxiety: finally it had arrived, the vaccine against the corona death-bringer! Others, on the other hand, were skeptical about this supposed miracle weapon: what if the vaccine did more harm than good? The days of trembling and hesitation are over - they are now being replaced by sickness and suffering, which nobody wants to see - or is allowed to see? Jörg-Heiner Möller, himself not initially an opponent of vaccination, gets to the bottom of the covered-up vaccination catastrophe, revealing deep abysses of world power politics ...

Leseprobe

Quote

Those who suffer never have the desire to remain silent.

Those who do not suffer, on the other hand, derive benefit from suffering.

It is a move on the chessboard of power,

a hidden threat, an invitation to remain silent ...

Alexis Jenni The French Art of War

Dedication

For Sonja

Inspired by Sonja

Definition

The term post-vacrefers to a disease that occurs after mRNA vaccination against corona and is similar to post-Coviddisease, in which the same or very similar symptoms after the corona infection began.

The term post-vac is usually used in this book for this new type of disease (also called post-vac syndrome, post-vaccine syndrome or post-vax).

However, the more precise term post-acute Covid-19 vaccination syndrome is also used synonymously here. Both terms refer to the same disease.

Foreword

Today I sent the clinical observational study of 228 patients from my clinic to the German Medical Journal for publication, observation period April 2022 to May 2023.

Out of these, 158 patients developed an unexplained, chronic and life-threatening disease immediately after vaccination; 58 patients developed the same symptoms after corona infection; and 12 patients could not be precisely identified because the corona infection occurred immediately after vaccination.

I described the symptoms, the signs of the disease – predominantly severe fatigue and cognitive disorders, and more – and I determined autoantibodies against the body's own structures in the 228 patients, so-called agonistic receptor autoantibodies, 94 percent of which were positive, a clear sign that this must be a newly developed autoimmune disease.

I took detailed anamneses (this is what doctors call asking about what came before, literally: previous memory, previous knowledge), I followed the course of the disease over months and years, and I was increasingly horrified by this disease, which was so difficult to grasp.

I have created tables and graphs according to the rules of scientific work, resembling the established sequence of dance steps, spicing it all up with scientific quotations on the subject – this is also part of the established rituals of this academic dance course.

This paper, although sent via the Internet, that is, by email rather than paper, will be rejected for publication. This is predictable.

My clinical observational study will be submitted to two reviewers to assess its quality, which has always been the rule in the editorial department of the Deutsches Ärzteblatt. These two reviewers, as professors with the appropriate weight of academic dignity, will then speak out against the publication, which is also predictable.

They will doubt my statistics, they will refer to the completely different figures from the renowned Paul Ehrlich Institute on vaccination side effects, they will accuse me of a lack of standardization of my medical history, they will devalue my clinical observations by positioning publications from renowned universities against my conclusions drawn from the clinical observations, they will present my observations, which have now been collected and systematically analyzed for over 2 years, as the aberrations of a single, non-specialist doctor from the provinces. This may be formulated in a somewhat friendlier and more polite way but it will devalue my clinical observation study.

It is predictable.

They will pit names of standing and weight in the scientific world, heavyweights against me as a scientific lightweight.

The outcome of the fight is clear: I am knocked out in this way, even before I can enter the ring and fight. This is also predictable, and all for one reason:

If my observations of currently more than 300 patients are correct, then the vaccination campaign against the coronavirus has caused infinitely more damage than if the vast majority of patients had not been vaccinated!

And for the assessment by the two experts, Christian Morgenstern's sentence will apply in the final and, as it were, concluding statement against my clinical observation study: "So one concludes razor-sharp that what must not be cannot be."

Anyone who made it to the top of the academic ranks, or more precisely, anyone who took the long road, the ox tour, could only do so by behaving in a politically correct manner. It starts at school: Who becomes a doctor in Germany? Not a pupil from one of the back rows, not an alert rebel! No, conforming and behaving in accordance with the rules leads to an A-level and a coveted place at medical school. The wheat is separated from the chaff early on, as they say, and it is not always the wheat that makes it to the top of the academic ladder.

The two professors who will reject my clinical observational study as reviewers will also be anonymized by the medical journal; I will never be allowed to know their names and will not even be able to deal with their negative arguments. What academic garbage, what intellectual decadence compared to the academic disputations of the Middle Ages, for example – now decried as sinister – where you first had to repeat your opponent's arguments in a lively face-to-face disputation to show that you had understood them at all!

I will have no opportunity for such a discussion and will be knocked out before I even have a chance to enter the ring against these politically correct "heavyweights", who will never want to admit that we caused massive damage with the vaccination against coronavirus, which has far outweighed the benefits!

No, a different medium is needed to counter the almost systematic concealment of vaccine damage in Germany and to ensure that the victims of vaccination get their due. This book was born out of this consideration.

To begin with, the question must be asked as to what kind of literature, or rather "genre" this book might be.

On the one hand, it is a non-fiction book, because I will be publishing my clinical observational study, which was rejected for publication by the German Medical Journal – which is completely unusual in medicine. I will also describe some clinical case studies, anonymized of course, to help you understand the disease. Here, in contrast to the above-mentioned experts, rightly anonymized, since as a treating physician I am bound to confidentiality.

I will describe the pathomechanisms, as the physician describes the destructive mechanism of the disease, from which the approaches for therapy attempts that can be applied arise.

According to the unanimous opinion of professional associations, guidelines and university announcements at the time this book was published, there is no therapy for post-Covid or post-vac syndrome; one can only attempt to alleviate the respective symptoms in a symptom-oriented manner. This means that the attempt to treat this disease has already been abandoned.

At this point, I strongly disagree because yes, there is a therapy! You just have to allow yourself to think that the vaccination and the continued presence of the spike protein (or subunits of it) have created a new type of e r disease that in many ways resembles an autoimmune disease. This spike protein can never be removed from the body and its structures. The disease cannot be cured, ever! But it can be treated if it is treated like an autoimmune disease! And it must be treated quickly before many symptoms are no longer reversible. We have seen some success with immunosuppressive therapy, and other forms of blood washing. In particular, the debilitating tiredness, the fatigue, has improved a lot, both in post-Covid patients and in post-vac patients. In my opinion, the two patient groups are essentially identical diseases anyway. However, some striking features of my clinical observational study documented in this book disturbingly suggest that post-vac, the post-acute Covid-19 vaccination syndrome, tends to be the more serious disease. A clinically well-tolerated immunosuppressive therapy could make a bearable life and a certain degree of normality possible again; there is no need for the patient to despair and there is no need for the alarming increase in suicides associated with the disease! There is hope. But there is no cure. So much for the character of a medical non-fiction book.

At the same time, however, it is also a political-historical analysis: Who was politically responsible for which decision in the nationwide vaccination campaign and when? Who was responsible?

Which experts (the word expert has almost become a dirty word for me since the corona pandemic and the vaccination damage discussion) were directly responsible for which development?

How did the gears of our political and, in particular, health policy system work? Or, more accurately, how did this system fail? Who was at the helm? Who were the big players and who was just a small cog in this gigantic wheel? Who greased the wheels, who put the brakes on, who exerted influence and why? And above all, who profited?

How should the role of, for example, the responsible health ministers, the Standing Committee on Vaccination, the Paul Ehrlich Institute and the Robert Koch Institute be assessed – to name just a few institutions. And how should we assess the influence of the Ethics Council and its chairwoman, who presented vaccination as an ethical necessity in the media during prime time?

But why are we no longer hearing any statements from the Ethics Council on the issue of dealing with vaccination victims? Has this body of "experts" just been pulled out of the magic hat like a rabbit, so to speak, for the vaccination campaign, only to disappear behind the scenes again? Isn't it to be branded as downright unethical behavior instead when these supposed experts on ethical issues now remain silent in the face of the suffering of countless vaccination victims while at the same time maximizing the profits of vaccine pharmaceutical companies?

And what role did the media play? What role do health insurance companies, pension offices and lawyers play in all this? Many questions, too many questions ...

As a doctor, I have been directly affected by all of these issues, have seen Covid sufferers die, have tried to comfort crying relatives, have had to experience dramatic acute vaccine damage in some cases and have had to recognize chronic vaccine damage to an increasing extent and with increasing horror. I have recognized the chronic vaccine damage with its destruction of personality and existence while society looks away as the worst thing in this pandemic. In this book, I try to process all these very stressful impressions for myself in a literary way.

So, what kind of "genre" is this book?

On the one hand, the publication of my medical article in this book – after it was rejected for publication by the German Medical Journal – is a scientific work. On the other hand, the explanation and description of the disease, which is also understandable for laypersons, is a medical non-fiction book. Then, some parts, such as the description of a severe pulmonary embolism as acute vaccination damage, have the character of a short story. And the whole thing is "spiced up", as it were, by an analysis of political history.

So, what do we want to call this "baby"?

It is too literary for a non-fiction book. Too unscientifically formulated for a scientific work. It's far too long for a short story and again too scientific, and it's certainly not a novel. What is it then?

I choose a completely non-literary category: It's a scream!

A cry of despair and distress from hundreds of thousands of affected vaccination victims in Germany, and their friends and relatives; a cry of anger and accusation against those who caused this misery of hundreds of thousands of severe illnesses with post-acute Covid-19 vaccination syndrome and who are now continually trying to play down the extent of the catastrophe to this day. A stunned bewilderment at the refusal of German authorities to recognize vaccine damage, which borders on deliberate. Bewilderment also at the inactivity of medical science, which has still not systematically investigated the issue of "vaccine damage caused by the Covid-19 vaccination". A cry of anger at the health insurance companies that refuse to support vaccination victims on the basis of merely bureaucratic arguments. A cry of contempt for medical colleagues who present post-acute Covid-19 vaccination syndrome as an exclusively "psychosomatic" illness with a tone of conviction.

Contempt was also shown towards those medical colleagues who, contrary to their own knowledge, mantra-like and with media impact, stated that vaccine damage was only negligible, who did not warn so as not to jeopardize their own academic position.

These medical colleagues bear responsibility: people trusted them. The number of vaccination victims would be significantly lower if doctors had behaved ethically and warned those affected at an early stage! Instead, they marginalized courageous researchers and took a stand against those who recognized the extent of vaccine damage early on and turned to the public, accepting severe disadvantages for themselves without exception. These early and alert warnings deserve my recognition for their civil courage; unlike many others involved, they and only they would have been entitled to the so-called Federal Cross of Merit.

Above all, a cry of boundless, abysmal hatred against pharmaceutical companies that earned billions from the vaccination but did not finance a cent of research into the consequential damage, who are cowardly and at the same time brazenly trying to shirk their responsibility, which they will not succeed in doing.

This vaccination, and the way it has been implemented, has caused far, far more damage, destroyed far more livelihoods – especially of young people – destroyed more families, destroyed more relationships, destroyed more financial livelihoods than the number of lives saved by the vaccination would even come close to justifying. And this truth continues to be covered up and suppressed.

Yes, this book is a cry and should be a cry.

And it is dedicated to the infinite number of people whose lives have been destroyed by a vaccination that supposedly has no side effects.

Burglengenfeld, December 2023

Introduction

I myself tolerated the vaccination well;

she could hardly wait to be endangered

through my work as a hospital doctor.

She had been suffering from a mild corona infection long before

gaining a permanent loss of sense of smell and taste.

A medical article appeared during this time.

You should vaccinate immediately

with the new mRNA vaccine;

coronaviruses are probably still present.

After the vaccination,

the sense of taste returns.

I therefore advised her to get vaccinated.

With this advice, I have her wonderful energy,

destroyed their lives, their happiness, irreversibly.

She became seriously ill immediately after the vaccination

and will never get well again.

And, her sense of smell has not returned,

contrary to all the experts' predictions.

I come from this number

according to my medical advice

never come out, never again, never.

And I started to ask questions, to scrutinize.

Your application for recognition

of the obvious vaccine damage

was approved by the pension office,

then rejected with foolish arguments.

In a letter in which every sentence

the intention was recognizable,

the vaccine damage

was rejected.

Since then, I have questioned things even more.

2. dedication

Dedicated to those who have reported publicly on the far more frequent side effects of the SARS-CoV-2 vaccine,

despite sometimes considerable personal disadvantages

with huge thanks.

I: The pandemic and what happened

The wave from Wuhan

Actually, I'm just a cardiologist in a charming little hospital in the Upper Palatinate.

Actually, as a cardiologist, you are rarely confronted with viral pneumonia, the medical specialty of infectiology, lung failure and the intricacies of immunology, i.e. the highly complex machinery of the body's own defenses against bacteria, viruses and fungi. Autoimmune diseases, i.e. diseases in which the body's own structures are destroyed and actually sensible defense mechanisms can lead to catastrophe, are also very rarely part of my area of expertise. Vaccine damage has not been either. Until now. Actually.

And to say it straight away: I was not an opponent of vaccination. My small hospital in the Upper Palatinate region was the first in Bavaria to be hit by the Wuhan variant of the SARS-CoV-2 virus at the beginning of March 2020. It was brought to us by carnival returnees looking for exuberant, happy celebrations and finding death instead. Long before, like a tsunami, the wave from northern Italy rolled across the Alps and was also to challenge and overwhelm the country's other intensive care units beyond the limits of their capacity. What we had previously only seen on TV from Wuhan and northern Italy was repeated in our intensive care unit: a tense atmosphere in a sterile, high-tech environment, the medics wrapped up like astronauts, unrecognizable behind their masks, visors like those of medieval knights, but the opponent invisible, penetrating through the fighter's visor, invincible with his own tournament rules, which we did not know and in which we were not trained. An unfair fight, we were not prepared for it. Patients surrounded by a multitude of medical devices: ECG curves, green on the monitor; blood pressure curves, red; respiratory rate, yellow; and oxygen saturation, blue – the latter constantly falling and announcing the end, then also dragging the blood pressure down with it.

The dying process begins. A human life, something unique, with ups and downs, longings, dreams, happiness and unhappiness, this life is now fading away, recognizable by the downward-moving colored lines of the monitor, while the ventilator – in the last hours of this human life with ever higher ventilation pressures – almost desperately tries to establish a sufficient oxygen saturation for the supply of vital organs, rhythmically puffing and reliably now giving 100 percent oxygen, now only performs meaningless mechanical activity and will be switched off shortly. The doctor looks at his watch and notes the time of death.

I have never seen high-tech medicine fail like this, Spaceship Enterprise so to speak, only without a happy ending, as is usually the case in American series. Ventilation, supine position, prone position, supine position, prone position, increasing lung failure, free fall, unstoppable.

At the end, the exitus [Latin for exit], as the doctors call it, in order to wrap up the horror of death in an academically distant-sounding word, as if they didn't want to let the horror touch their own medical souls.

This is how it hit us on 9 March 2020, suddenly, although somehow expected after the television images from Wuhan (body bags in the corridors of the hospitals, eyes wide open in fear of a mechanically ventilated infected doctor who will die, images that would never have been allowed in Europe) or Bergamo (army trucks transporting away those who had already been forced to walk through the exit, the exitus). Regarding Bergamo, what a fantastic strategic victory for the virus – from the point of view of the Covid-19 virus – to be there at a time when an international soccer match was being played! And King Football doesn't shy away from an epidemic situation! And so the infection was systematically transported through Europe like an accelerant ...

We had all seen these pictures from Wuhan and from Bergamo, and some of us had tried to suppress it: It's just like the flu, a few people always die ... Of course, it's always “the others”!

Young doctors in particular live in the certainty that it is they who are on the right side of health versus illness, death versus life, a mechanism of unconscious repression reinforced by the daily experiences of the profession. This self-stabilization, this life lie, this ignoring of reality works for a long time in the life of a doctor. Until this ignoring of reality collapses like a house of cards in a hurricane-force gust of wind; never again will it be possible to find the playing cards of this destroyed house of cards.

The fish stinks from the head, they say in the north metaphorically, owing to its responsibility as the leading organ. This is a true observation at the fish markets; first of all, it is the exposed gills on the head of the dead fish that decompose, not the body protected by scales. To stay with this image, who was our head in this looming catastrophe? How did our head, the responsible Minister of Health, Jens Spahn, react at the time? He had initially and for far too long played it cool, saying that he was not gifted with foresight and that it was not yet possible to speak of a pandemic. Now, despite the minister's statement and his desire to deny reality, a pandemic had nevertheless occurred and the wave from Wuhan had reached a country that was still at the height of its prosperity and was completely untrained in dealing with crises.

Looking back, you can see the recorded video images of the Robert Koch Institute's daily press conferences. The director of the Robert Koch Institute, our top vet, so to speak, is cool and objective in his analysis. Then the tsunami hits, the number of deaths in intensive care units skyrockets, the collapse of German intensive care medicine is imminent. And look at the changes in the facial expression of the RKI director; you can't miss the sheer horror, at prime time!

Now the safe distance of spending the evening watching TV pictures of plague-ridden third countries, with the house cat on your lap and a bag of potato chips in front of you, was over. From then on, we were all living it.

With hospital staff who became infected, with daily crisis meetings, with crying relatives of the sick or dying, even as hospital staff working in such an environment, seriously at risk.

We had never experienced anything like it in such abundance. We were desperate and scared ourselves. No one admitted it, not to themselves and certainly not to others; we were all scared, but no one shied away and stayed at home.

A colleague suggested that I take 3 months’ sick leave, as I was well over 60 years old and had only just survived a complicated operation by the skin of my teeth; my immune system couldn't possibly be good again after this protracted illness! Of course I was scared, yes, I was very scared, I admit it. But it was out of the question for me. I would have seen it as cowardice in the face of the invisible, insidious enemy, so I never thought for a second about this kind of escape.

In a small management group, we discussed the constantly worsening situation for ventilated patients every morning and discussed the options we had. To put it briefly, in the initial phase, before we started high doses of cortisone in April 2020, we had no therapeutic options at all. We discussed the reports of other doctors in the journals, helplessness everywhere, 90 percent deaths in New York intensive care units, a catastrophic statistic, the most catastrophic in this time of horror – and this when American medicine was always recommended to us as a role model!

We had no defensive weapons against this enemy. Even FFP2 masks were not available in the land of the economic miracle! Health Minister Spahn had given them away to China with only limited stocks anyway, had ignored the impending pandemic for far too long and had not proactively ensured that FFP2 masks could be produced. And so it came about that we, who could send astronauts into space, who build and sell the supposedly most modern battle tanks, failed to produce simple respiratory masks.

Leopard 2 instead of FFP2.

When Italy asked Germany for help, to send masks due to the catastrophic rage of the epidemic in Bergamo, we actually had no more stocks of protective masks ourselves and were therefore once again called "Nazis" in the Italian tabloid press. And now the tsunami had reached us and we were also without masks, a failure with an announcement. The tailors in Burglengenfeld helped out and sewed masks for our hospital free of charge – I'll never forget that! Car painters from Burglengenfeld gave us their last FFP2 masks. "God bless you!" – abbreviated to "Fürti!", the Bavarian farewell greeting – from the master car painter as he handed me his last pack of FFP masks from his company's paint shop so that the hospital staff would be protected! As a North German, perhaps taking this greeting more literally than my Bavarian neighbors, this "God bless you" touched me deeply, especially because it came from a person who himself was afraid of death from corona and now no longer had a protective mask himself.

As always, we stick together in times of need. Our disinfectants were stolen from hospital corridors in the first week of the pandemic, and the same happened on the other side.

And then there was the bureaucracy of the health authorities. When it had long been clear that everything was getting out of hand, that the wave of infections could no longer be stopped, desperate attempts were still being made, working overtime that was unusual for the authorities, to trace contact persons and contact routes, to contain and control the wildfire. In vain. The Corona-Warn-App: an expensive failure.

But a German authority, bound by its own self-image, cannot admit that it has lost control, so as a counter-reaction there is an even more violent increase in official activity: more and more partly nonsensical and impractical orders: the less control, the more orders. A mathematician can recognize a reciprocal correlation here.

This hindered the doctors at the front, who were forced to follow this order under threat of punishment.

Our hospital's hygiene specialist was a total failure in the first few days of the epidemic: tied up in endless lists and phone calls with the health authorities instead of making the hospital safer on site. That's what we doctors did; we defined transport routes, only one elevator for corona patients, separate transport routes, barriers, distance, only a few on rounds, discussing a lot on the phone, not face to face, avoiding group formation.

The doors of the hospital corridors were left open so that no unnecessary door handles were caught, endless discussions with the building technician because of the conflicting fire safety regulations, who did not want to or was not allowed to understand that it was not so much a possible natural fire that was raging through our hospital as the concrete danger of a deadly virus like a firestorm.

No instructions from the management, of course not; yes, there could be a fire in the hospital right now and then they would be responsible for the deaths in a fictitious fire. The hospital management could not be held responsible for the legally and forensically untraceable infection caused by a door handle contaminated with viruses, but they could be held responsible for a fire ...

I personally blocked the door lock several times a day so that patient transports would not have to deal with handles that might be covered in viruses, and just as often the blockade was removed again by the "fire protection faction", an absurd game which, however – and this speaks for our small hospital – was played in a very relaxed manner in mutual respect, with humor, even despite the danger, every day in a friendly manner. Door open, door closed, door open, door closed: an absurd farce!

And then there is the long-forgotten failure of the hospital hierarchies that have been established for over 20 years. When a ward nurse was instructed by the head physician to please wear a mask for personal protection in this completely confusing pandemic situation, she did not do so because she had been told by the head of nursing that she was not a contact person, following the bureaucratic nonsense of the responsible health authority. In this case, the fact that chief physicians are no longer seen as superiors took its revenge; the nursing service management alone is seen as binding under disciplinary law as a superior in their orders, whereas doctors are only seen as specialist superiors.

The nurse fell ill and lost her sense of smell and taste permanently.

At the height of the pandemic, German Medical President Montgomery, who in the meantime had become the President of the World Medical Association, ridiculed the wearing of masks in public ("I only wear the mask as a favor to my wife when we go to the weekly market together ..."). Just a few months later, we were astonished to hear him accuse airlines of not handing out FFP masks during flights! The flag had turned in the wind ... His successor as Federal Medical President, Reinhardt, also fundamentally denied the effectiveness of protective masks during the height of the pandemic. There was no scientific evidence for wearing protective masks ...

He should have resigned immediately after this blunder, but taking responsibility by resigning has not been part of Germany's political culture for a long time. Instead, he was re-elected after the pandemic, very narrowly, but nevertheless ... Our political thinking is not characterized by long-term memory.

Chaos everywhere, helpless efforts and at the same time people were dying, the statistics every day, like the "body count" in the war, the numbers constantly rising. All our measures were in vain. It was as if, in the event of a storm surge, hurricane and imminent dyke breach, you just put a row of sandbags on the top of the dyke, perhaps even with gaps in between, because some "expert" had announced that the wind resistance at the top of the dyke had to be reduced as a priority. Absurd, useless, pointless, futile.

But at least you had the feeling of having done something, of having defended yourself against the enemy, the insidious, the invisible one, and that alone did you some good.

The public applause for our nurses from the heights of safe balconies or in the Bundestag, and the speeches of the politicians were met with biting derision and we realized once again that we as doctors were actually held in low esteem, a problem that has long been apparent in society as a whole. I am a fourth-generation doctor and glad that my two sons did not become doctors.

Isolation. Close the borders. Yes, now! But when Bavaria wants to close the border with the Czech Republic, the hotspot of the pandemic at the time, there is criticism from EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen in Brussels.

We went under.

That was the situation in our small hospital in March 2020. In the first 2 weeks, we already had 5 corona deaths from lung failure, all older patients, all but one of them men. Our head of anesthesia was brave enough to examine the lungs of the ventilated patients with a bronchoscope (a tube for lung endoscopy), exposing himself to the risk of infection. At the time, this was still forbidden by the Robert Koch Institute. The surprise: we found relatively little viral material! Through this observation, we began to suspect that it was not the virus itself that was destroying the lungs but an excessive defense reaction, a hyperinflammation. And perhaps this could be slowed down?

We have therefore been treating this with high doses of cortisone since April 2020 and were amazed and grateful to experience recovery, and have refined the therapy by finding a laboratory marker, the so-called C-reactive protein, which indicated impending lung failure about a week in advance. And with timely cortisone shock therapy, intubation and mechanical ventilation were able to prevent ventilation in all (!) patients for whom we had the lead time for this observation and who were not already in an advanced critical condition; none of this group died. I tried to publish this finding, wrote to countless universities, but to no avail. The Minister of Health, Mr Spahn, was informed about this extremely important observation in the initial phase of the pandemic, as were Mr Lauterbach, Mr Drosten and several infectiologists at German universities. I begged for a controlled study with a larger number of cases. No answer, not one. A publication in the German Medical Journal was rejected; in comparison with the recovery study published in England two months later in June 2020, our cortisone dose would be too high. Yes, it was about eight times higher in comparison (but only for three days), but in the English recovery study, 22 percent of patients in the cortisone group died – as many as in Germany in all hospitalized corona patients without cortisone! In Germany, it was "only" 6 to 7 percent of Covid-19 inpatients! And our scientific elite celebrated the recovery study with 22 percent deaths as a success! I wrote to the Bavarian Ministry of Health; they recommended discussing the whole thing with the specialist societies; I wrote to the health authorities, who knew the statistics of the individual hospitals. Nobody seemed to be interested.

Cortisone was cheap and cost nothing; no company would have made money from it. The pharmaceutical companies were working flat out on vaccine production, and until vaccination began, expensive antibodies were being advertised, e.g. against Interleukin-6 for the treatment of fatal lung failure. We did not see convincing clinical success with these Interleukin antagonists. The short-term high-dose cortisone therapy applied in time was clearly superior.

But who was interested in a small 120-bed hospital in the Upper Palatinate with an effective treatment for Covid-19 lung failure, but from which no money could be made? No one. We were ridiculed. We would have had the solution.

The experts in general: From which corners of the world were so many virologists suddenly dragged in front of the camera? In medicine and intensive care medicine, they are actually a marginalized group – as if those who do not work clinically could not demonstrate any knowledge of intensive care medicine, as if they were now in possession of the only beatific truth? What made the chief virologist in Berlin such a media star? Why weren't more intensive care physicians, immunologists and molecular biologists heard, as examples? No, virologist equals expert, courted for interviews by the media. I was amazed at how many virologists existed in German universities and now, awakened from their niche existence, looked, blinking, into the television cameras ...

Then the curfew, the mask requirement. We were astonished to learn that a higher administrative court had allowed a demonstration in Leipzig! There were to be 16,000 people! Chanting slogans, close together, some without mouth-nose masks!

With 16,000 people demonstrating through Leipzig city center at the height of the corona pandemic, this meant an estimated number of infections of at least 500 people. This certainly meant a 2-digit number of infected people requiring inpatient treatment, and certainly deaths. And this by legal decision! Who investigated the judges responsible for this decision? The government's silence was striking. Lawyers seemed to be untouchable. Unfortunately, Corona too. The wave continued ...

The daily death toll was rising and we could hardly wait for the vaccination to start! I was at risk as an over 60-year-old and I was happy when I finally received the vaccination at the end of 2020: BioNTech.

My team members in the cardiac catheterization lab were more skeptical, hesitant; they wanted to wait and see. I reassured them by saying that side effects were very rare and that in the event of one of the rare side effects, the state would take care of the vaccination victim.

Rarely in my life have I been so wrong as I was with these two statements!

The vaccination

Then it finally arrived, the long-awaited mRNA vaccine. Finally, the vaccination campaign got off to a slow start.

As a hospital doctor, a frontline soldier, so to speak, I was one of the first to receive the vaccine at the end of 2020. At last. I didn't even read the information about the vaccine; I trusted the regulatory authorities and the statements made by the authorities about the safety of the vaccine – at that time. The new technology also seemed to be well tolerated – if the regulatory authorities were to be believed. Although it is always problematic to introduce genetic modifications into an organism, we were not fundamentally opposed to genetic engineering, as it could be used to cure diseases that were otherwise incurable, genetically passed on by the law of inexorable dominance. We had been told – so why should we doubt – that the vaccinated mRNA, which produced the spike protein and could thus trigger an immune response without the deadly virus being present, that this mRNA was short-lived? That's what we believed and wanted to believe!

I myself tolerated the first vaccination well and had no side effects at all apart from an aching arm at the vaccination site for 2 days, which was not perceived as a side effect. The second vaccination was different: I was "out of action" for 2 weeks, feeling very ill, chest pain. Shortness of breath. Probably myocarditis, myocarditis. Fortunately, the spook was over after 2 weeks. I did not report the severe course after the second vaccination to the Paul Ehrlich Institute.

The fact that the second vaccination would be more difficult to tolerate was no surprise; my immunological understanding was that a more severe reaction was to be expected in an already sensitized immune system. The myocarditis was not perceived by me as a relevant side effect of the vaccination, no, I therefore had the booster vaccination after 6 months, which only made me feel very ill for one day. I was, so to speak, a vaccine opponent for one day ...

Incidentally, the following sentence was included in the written information: "The mRNA contained in the vaccine is broken down in the body after a few days. Then no more virus protein (spike protein) is produced." Unfortunately, this claim turned out to be false, but more on that later ...

It was not until August 2022 that this statement was quietly and secretly removed after spike protein was detected in immune cells, blood and tissue of post-vac sufferers years after the first vaccinations ...

Nationwide, the vaccination campaign had the desired effect. As the vaccination rate increased, the number of respiratory failures fell, the situation in intensive care units began to ease, and the high-dose cortisone therapy in our hospital was hardly necessary anymore. And I was banned during this relaxation phase.

A last flare-up of fatal cases occurred at the end of 2020 with the delta variant of the virus, but only in unvaccinated people, which reinforced our assessment of the usefulness of the vaccination program.

We wondered about the chaos of the vaccination campaign, about the bureaucracy, the inefficiency and the costs of the vaccination centers, about the inconsistency of vaccination recommendations from the STIKO, the Standing Committee on Vaccination, which were disseminated to the population at prime time, but that was probably part of it.

All in all, we seemed to have come through the pandemic quite well.

Did we really get through all right?

Fulminant pulmonary embolism

Four days after being vaccinated against the SARS-CoV-2 virus. He is 70 years old and therefore belongs to the risk group. He could hardly wait for the vaccination and tolerated it well, not even any pain at the injection site on his right upper arm – he is left-handed. That was 4 days ago. He collapsed at the breakfast table. He stammered: "I don't feel well at all", rolled his eyes and toppled sideways under the table, tearing the tablecloth with him as he fell, hot coffee on his neck and head; he could no longer feel it. She didn't know whether she screamed later; she only knew that her love was dying here, after 40 years of marriage, which it was no exaggeration to describe as "exceptionally happy". It is often the case that women are colder and stronger in emergency situations than the stronger sex. How she had the presence of mind to first call the emergency number 112, give the exact address and open the front door wide and only then start resuscitating her husband, she did not know even later, looking back on these dramatic events, but this sequence of her decisions would save him.

She was a lightweight, pressing with the strength of despair on the chest of her beloved, hitting his face, which was covered in cold sweat, screaming, "Stay here, stay here!" crying desperately but pressing as hard as she could – and harder, breathing, mouth to mouth, mouth to nose, somehow, and pressing, pressing; it was the fight of her life. Trutz to the death. Trutz! Trutz! Screaming, crying. Praying. She raged. The seconds became an eternity, she could no longer feel her arms after what felt like an hour (actually it was only 5 minutes). Then the emergency doctor and paramedics stood next to her and professionally took over the resuscitation of the dying man. The medics immediately saw that the man was dying and performed chest compressions, intubation, venous access, ECG, no, no ventricular fibrillation, tachycardic rhythm, pressure less, gray, ashen, dying. With continuous chest compressions and administration of the stress hormone adrenaline getting the maximum out of the failing heart – as if still beating a dying horse with a whip – her loved one was lifted into the ambulance (fortunately only 80 kg, my nearby clinic had already been informed), transported into the shock room where the anesthesia team was already waiting. The well-rehearsed routine of emergency care was underway.

Does it make sense to continue at all, the anesthesiologist asks, more to himself than to anyone else in the shock room: the patient's pupils are wide, a possible sign of irreversible brain damage. Does it make sense? Oh, this much-asked question! How often do we only realize that irreversible brain damage has occurred later on? Irreversible. A word. When it falls, it falls like a cleaver, shatters the last spark of hope, the longed-for bridge back to life. Is the patient's brain already irreversibly damaged?

I remember with deep horror and horrified sadness the two 6- and 8-year-old boys standing at their father's bedside, about 10 years ago (now even though it seems like yesterday). The father was admitted to us brain-dead after ventricular fibrillation following a heart attack. We were able to open the blocked vessel and keep it open with small mesh tubes (stents), but we didn't know at the time of our treatment for the heart attack that we were much too late, that the 38-year-old father's brain was already irreversibly damaged. Two to 3 minutes of circulatory arrest and the brain cells die. And there are the two boys standing at the bedside of their father, who will never wake up again, looking up at me and saying loyally, as only little boys can: "Gell, Daddy will wake up soon! Our daddy is strong!" These looks, this trust and, in contrast, the merciless, brutal, perverse reality: the brain is swollen, the brain cells are dead, their dad can never wake up again. The image of the two little boys will accompany and burden me for the rest of my life.

And now. Will it be the same here with our patient? Was the lay resuscitation of the desperate wife enough to perfuse the brain? The pressure on the chest is almost more important than the ventilation. Was her little strength, in arms that were far too thin, enough to replace the heart of a seasoned man from the Upper Palatinate, to generate a saving pulse wave through the vessels of the brain? She is sitting outside in the visitors' room, crying. One look as she rushes past to the shock room is enough to make a judgment: no, she can't have had much strength during the resuscitation, her attempt at resuscitation.

Back to the reanimation, we are now bringing out the heavy artillery, an escalation like in a war against a merciless enemy: Gevatter Tod [Godfather Death], Blanker Hans (metaphoric name of the stormy North Sea), Schnitter Tod [the grim reaper], or as they say in the Upper Palatinate, Boandlkramer (representation of death); it's all about him.

This mechanical chest press is used to exert the pressure that will be sufficient to supply the brain with blood. The LUCAS presses tirelessly on the dying person's chest with a large pad every second, because the helpers' arms tire quickly. Our mechanical colleague LUCAS, on the other hand, works tirelessly.

Noises like in a factory, a puffing rhythm, I involuntarily think of Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times when I hear this rhythm, the human being squeezed into the clockwork of the machines. Or the lyrics to the song by the rock band Jethro Tull from the 70s:

Locomotive breath (Jethro Tull)

In the shuffling madness

Of the locomotive breath

Runs the all-time loser

Headlong to his death ...

Shuffling madness, crazy snorting, nothing describes the current borderline situation better! Headlong to his death, oh yes, that's where it seems to be going, now, here!

The man's chest is regularly compressed by the chest press, creating a pulse wave sufficient to perfuse the brain, while at the same time 100 percent oxygen is pressed into the lungs by the ventilator. The ventilator produces another mechanical sound. If it were in sync with the rhythm of LUCAS, you could play a macabre, slow blues number. "Last-Minute Blues" would be a fitting title. The musicians immediately play their solos, play their 12 bars, first the harp, as often in blues, the notes plaintively stretched, then the guitar with its solo, finally the piano, free improvisation, different each time, but with structured rules. Twelve bars – everyone knows their role – at the end the theme and the concluding finale. It's the same here. But they are not musicians; they are doctors who routinely perform their tasks on the left and right and at the head of the patient. But here, too, we are heading towards the final theme, the finale, the end.

Last-Minute Blues ...

But LUCAS and the ventilator are not puffing to the beat, which creates a chaotic carpet of sound in the whole spooky scene in the shock room, no, physically more precisely: a carpet of noise, interrupted by orders, inquiries, shouts and the hectic activity appropriate to an emergency.

How many patients who could perhaps have been saved were given up on too soon? In how many cases would it have been better not to have started at all? No one who has not had to act responsibly as a doctor in such dramatic moments can understand what is happening.

The two young student nurses, for example, standing somewhat anxiously in the corner of the room and watching with wide eyes. "Go down to the shock room and watch a resuscitation!" the head nurse had instructed them. The two of them see everything and understand … nothing ...

Even less do lawyers understand this borderline situation between life and death, the fears and hardships of those of us who help. But from the safety of their desks, entrenched behind mountains of files, they are the ones who will judge us when someone reports us. And this happens quickly, far too quickly. They, who have never experienced what a doctor feels when, for example, during emergency intubation, he is unable to insert a plastic tube into the windpipe of a severely overweight patient with circulatory arrest because he cannot see the entrance to the windpipe with the fat masses of the thick, short neck, and the neck is too thick and the man too heavy to be kept alive with just the resuscitation bag.

And after three minutes of circulatory arrest and lack of oxygen in the brain, the brain cells begin to die, brain death is imminent. An indescribable strain and stress for the doctor! He has to get the plastic tube in there now, absolutely! And quickly! But he can't do it in his own increasing desperation and panic. He has to do it now, immediately! The brain dies after three minutes without the saving oxygen supply through the tube!

He pulls on the handle of the laryngeal mirror with all his strength, but despite his best efforts, he cannot see the glottis, the navigation mark that will save him with his short, thick throat. "Come, come, do it!" Cursing, then silently gritting his teeth, the dying man cold and sweaty, the doctor now also completely soaked in sweat, becoming increasingly desperate and threatening to fail, can a lawyer understand that? Such a borderline situation is not on the law school curriculum ...

Or when a surgeon is unable to stop a young woman's bleeding after several stab wounds as the final act of a jealousy drama, he operates in increasing desperation and also at the end of his own strength, more and more stab wounds appear, he thinks he has controlled one source of bleeding, then three more open up. The blood reserves are not enough. He fails. The young woman dies on the operating table.

How does he feel, the surgeon, when he has to tell the victim's parents the merciless truth? How does he feel when he goes home after this day? How does he reproach himself? How does he process the horror? Double whiskey, more and more regularly? What does he say at home? How do his children experience him?

But back from the operating table to the other table, the desk: safely entrenched behind mountains of files, the lawyer usually thinks he knows best what is right, what is necessary, what is happening and what perhaps should or should not have been done. The borderline situation between life and death, the strain on the resuscitation team right now, for example, is of no interest to him. He doesn't let it get to him.

In contrast to doctors: you know your "graveyard", the "treatment errors" that have happened to you in the course of your professional life. Every clinician knows them; they haunt you your whole life. And you can only become a good doctor if you let these failures, often caused by ignorance, get to you, think about them, reflect on them, as the saying goes, as if it were about reflecting back the sun's rays. No, this is about death, grief, shame, an oppressive guilty conscience and fear. Yes, fear. The responsibility is too great, you are not up to it. Maybe that's why so many doctors flee to a bureaucratic job without responsibility, e.g. to the medical service of the health insurance companies, from where they make life difficult for us as clinicians. But in their desk job, they have no contact with patients, no responsibility, and good pay.

On the subject of "resuscitation": In all seriousness, a judge told me in a conversation – a chance acquaintance during a train ride from Berlin to Hanover – that in such a situation of resuscitation, one must first clarify whether the patient has a restraining order. Or perhaps the patient does not want to be resuscitated and treated with intensive care? We should have checked the patient's pockets first to see if there was a restraining order! It doesn't get any more unrealistic than that ...

Finally, back from this judge's desk to the macabre reality of our patient's resuscitation in my hospital's shock room:

Here the pupils of our patient, incessantly worked on by LUCAS, are already as wide as possible and do not react to light. An indication of the brain damage feared here too? Rien ne va plus? [Is nothing working anymore?] Should we stop resuscitation?

This is exactly what the anesthesiologist now asks: "Does it still make sense? Let's stop!"

No, not yet, don't give up so easily on the Boandlkramer [the bone man]! His pupils are also dilated after the administration of the stress hormone adrenaline, and he has been receiving it continuously from the anesthesiologist, so maybe there is still hope after all?

But first we want to know what our patient is dying from, what the actual cause is that triggered the emergency situation like a snowball in an avalanche. When we switch LUCAS off briefly and examine his heart with the echo transducer, we see it immediately: we can see a huge right ventricle with blood clots in it, a massive pulmonary embolism!

It is not possible to confirm this diagnosis with a CT scan, the patient is in a severe state of shock, blood pressure barely measurable, far too unstable for transportation to the radiology department, the diagnosis of a balloon-shaped distended right ventricle is sufficient for a diagnosis of pulmonary embolism.

A fulminant pulmonary embolism! Fulminant, usually used in a positive sense for a great and extraordinary event, the fulminant victory, the fulminant success of the premiere, here completely different, coming closer to the original meaning of fulmen [Latin for "lightning"]. A fulminant pulmonary embolism is an immediately fatal pulmonary embolism, as we are currently experiencing here. What we are currently fighting against with all our energy, with all our team members including our mechanical "colleague" LUCAS: a large blood clot has come loose, usually from the deep leg veins, following the blood flow to the heart, it has been flushed through the right atrium and the right ventricle and then it gets tighter, the clot, mushy, semi-solid, glistening, clogs the central, large pulmonary vessels.

A piston seizure of the engine, a lightning stop, blocked – being of the heart: instant death!

Snake venom is needed. Yes, you read that right: snake venom! The clot has to be dissolved, immediately, a pipe cleaner so to speak, aggressively; it's lysis therapy. Still routinely used 25 years ago for heart attacks, this aggressive therapy, drugs developed from snake venom, is increasingly being forgotten by younger colleagues, and too often this saving therapy is withheld from critically ill patients as a last resort.