One day at work at Sir Charles Gairdner Hospital, SCGH, I told my boss that Mossad was behind my problems at the facility, that they had infiltrated the facility.
He told me that I should go home, and never come back to work without a doctor’s letter showing that I was mentally competent to work. I was very upset to hear that, but I had no choice but to leave. I couldn’t believe it. ‘I am not supposed to state facts now?’ I wondered. But I was not angry at my boss because he must have believed it impossible for Mossad to have, for all practical purposes, taken over the hospital.
What are the chances of something like that happening? Has something like that ever happened before, anywhere in the world? Probably not. So I understood where he was coming from. And I still believe he is a good man. But he had to do what he had to do, given the circumstances.
When I thought about the matter later that day, I realized it wasn’t such a bad thing, since if I was found mentally sound, then it would mean what I had said about Mossad was true, including their torturing me with heat, and sabotaging the hospital because of me.
Anyway, the next day I went to my GP and told him that I wanted my head examined, and also told him the reason, without going into details. He was very surprised. He told me that only a psychiatrist could do that, and he would refer me to one.
About a week later, I had a consultation with a psychiatrist. Within the first two minutes or so, it was obvious to me that the doctor had been fed plenty of information about me already, and it was not flattering at all. I could tell from the questions that she had been made to believe that I was a real nut case. However, I didn’t provide the kind of answers she was expecting, and within about five minutes, I noticed the pendulum had finally moved to my side.
She looked quite puzzled by the answers I was giving, and that was a good sign, in my opinion. I relaxed and was now speaking with confidence. Then, suddenly, the door was opened and a lady, who looked like she had been running, stepped into the room. She proceeded to sit down and exchanged some pleasantries with the doctor. She did not introduce herself, and the doctor did not introduce her to me.
Shortly, she took over the consultation. She told me that I was indeed insane. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Who was she? And how did she arrive at that conclusion, yet she wasn’t there when I was talking to the doctor? I knew I had to control myself, lest I fall into her trap.
I tried to speak, but she never gave me an opportunity to complete a sentence before cutting me short. And the doctor seemed intimidated by her. The stranger would say something and the doctor would nod in agreement.
I realized it was no longer a medical consultation but a circus. The stranger insisted I was not okay in my head, and the fact that I was disputing that, was evidence of that, since insane people never accept that they are insane.
I decided to just keep quiet and hope the session would end quickly. Finally, the ‘medical consultation’ was over, and I was given another appointment two weeks later.
As I was going home, I thought about what had gone on in the clinic. I was certain that the stranger, probably together with others, must have been sitting somewhere in a room listening to my conversation with the doctor. In other words, the consultation room had some listening device, clearly against basic medical ethics.
As they listened, they must have realized the consultation wasn’t going as expected, and the doctor was probably coming to the conclusion that what she had been told about me were lies. So they rushed to implement their plan B, where the stranger would come into the room and take over the consultation.
A thought crossed my mind: ‘What if the stranger was right?’ I asked my wife, “You know, if I am insane, I certainly wouldn’t know about it. So, do you think I have lost my mind?” She assured me that I was perfectly fine mentally.
Armed with that information, I decided that I would invoke my rights if they tried that circus again.
I went for the second consultation with the psychiatrist. At the very beginning of the session, I very respectfully and discreetly let it be known that if I was deliberately misdiagnosed because of external pressure, I would seek justice.
Surprisingly, everything went well. The stranger did not appear, and the doctor did not tell me even once that I had any mental problem. She also told me that I could book an appointment after two weeks if I wanted, but it was optional and voluntary. I chose to book an appointment, since I wanted to take that opportunity to tell the doctor about certain evil things Mossad had done to me, and ask for her opinion about how to proceed.
Within a few minutes of arriving home, I received a call from my GP informing me that he had just received an email from the psychiatrist declaring me mentally fine and fit to work. He told me to go for the report the next day, which I did. I was quite happy when I received that report because it confirmed what I had said about Mossad.
I was quite upbeat as I went for the third consultation with the psychiatrist. But I was taken aback when I found the same stranger from the first session already seated in the room.
Just like had happened on the first day, she took over the consultation and declared me mentally ill. The doctor timidly nodded her head and added only a word or two, as the stranger raved on.
I later learnt that the stranger was a nurse, or so she claimed. ‘A nurse ordering a specialist doctor around, and purporting to make a diagnosis on the doctor’s behalf!’ You can’t make this stuff up.
I thought I was dreaming. ‘I already have the doctor’s report clearing me of any mental illness, yet she is letting this stranger declare the opposite diagnosis! What is going on here?’ I wondered. I was very upset at this obvious circus, but I knew I needed to control myself.
At the end of the ‘consultation’, the doctor, once agin informed me I could book another appointment if I wanted, but it was all optional. I got the feeling that the intimidated doctor would have preferred that I didn’t book any other appointment in order to keep the pressure off her.
So I informed the front office that that was the final consultation, and they should take me off the register.
I thought of reporting the incident to the Australian Medical Association, but upon reflection, I wondered what I would complain about, since the doctor already gave me a clean bill of health, formally, two weeks earlier. And what had happened in that room was not recorded anywhere. I decided to let the matter pass.
The Stranger Goes Overboard
A few weeks after my final consultation with the doctor, someone knocked on our door. My wife opened the door. The visitor said she wanted to see me. My wife automatically said I wasn’t in. The visitor said she was a nurse, and she wanted to inform me about an upcoming doctor’s appointment. She also left a note with information about the appointment with a doctor in another clinic. The note had her first name and designation as a nurse.
When my wife gave me the description of the visitor, I realised it was the stranger from the doctor’s clinic. I can’t recall her name. I was floored by her audacity. How could she make a doctor’s appointment on my behalf yet she wasn’t my doctor?
Of course, I couldn’t honour the bogus appointment. Anyway, for the next two weeks, I received many calls reminding me of the appointment, till I stopped answering my phone. They would still call and leave voicemails.
The ‘nurse’ stranger came to my home again, this time only the kids were in. She left another note reminding me of another rescheduled appointment in this clinic which I had never been to. I knew it was her from the description I was given.
I didn’t attend that appointment, and I didn’t answer my phone, nor reply to the voicemails that they were leaving on my phone. It went on and on, whereby the day of appointment would come, I, of course, wouldn’t attend, they would reschedule, then call endlessly to remind me, send letters…It was like the world would end if I didn’t attend the appointment.
The stranger came to my home for the third time. This time, my wife refused to open the door. She waited for about five minutes, then left a note and went away. The note was about another appointment. Once again, I ignored the appointment. Same pattern followed: Calls, voicemails, letters, pleading with me to attend.
Several weeks later, the stranger came again, for the fourth time. This time my wife opened the door, and promptly told her I wasn’t in, even though the stranger knew I was in, and my car was parked outside.
The stranger went ahead to tell my wife about another doctor’s appointment. My wife became exasperated. She informed the stranger that I wasn’t sick, and if she came to our home again, she would call the cops.
The ‘nurse’ stranger never came again. Eventually, the clinic, and whoever else was calling about the appointments stopped calling.
When I reviewed that matter, I concluded that they had finally found a doctor who would give the diagnosis they wanted. They probably had enough leverage against the doctor to make sure he did that. The ‘nurse’ stranger must have been a Mossad contractor.
But sometimes the things Mossad has done while trying to destroy me have puzzled me. How did they expect me to cooperate in the matter when it was obvious that they wanted to have me misdiagnosed as a nut case? They didn’t think the stranger coming to my home to plead with me to attend the clinic was in itself very suspicious? They didn’t think that being given a doctor’s appointment when you have not requested for it is in itself suspicious?
Yet, Mossad must have known about the reason why I went to the psychiatrist in the first place, and the fact that I already got the good medical report that I wanted, therefore I didn’t have to attend any other clinic appointment.
Out of curiosity, one Sunday afternoon, I decided to drive slowly past the clinic, accompanied by my wife. It looked as the type of place with rooms where mentally ill people could be locked up against their will and treated for a long, long time.
I told my wife that if I had made the mistake of going to that place, the doctor in Mossad’s pocket would have made a quick diagnosis confirming I was ill, and I would have been locked up against my will for a very long time. Additionally, if you are locked up in such a place when you are not sick, you will most probably be more aggressive and disruptive than the other patients, thus ensuring your long-term residence there.
I would have taken every opportunity to explain to the workers there that it was all a plot against me, a conspiracy by Mossad to have me locked up there when I was very fine in my head. That would naturally confirm to the workers that I truly belonged there.