Rh negative people and mental health

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1. Jeanette May 15, 2022 Log in to Reply

   In 1972 my doctor was away, a young male locum was standing in for him. I didn’t know, l was married to a violent alcoholic, a mum of five , young, pretty (l’m assured by those who knew me) aged 27, l felt alone with my husband’s violence and would stop by my GPs for a chat, with my children. He was close on retirement, Irish, and a seriously good doctor, down to earth and straight talking. To me, he was the dad my Irish mother lost as a child, who knows, something made me feel safer in his hands as my GP. I’d had many doctors, and many more to come, so many NDEs and my dad was dead. When l discovered he was away, and got caught up with a new and eager young GP, l passed the visit off as a check up on my kids. Can’t recall how. He took one look at five of them, neat, tidy, clean, well behaved, polite, and decided l needed help, l must be depressed, all those kids, and no one in my corner. He had no idea just being born an Arien in April totally defied those odds, l’m the ram, not the lamb. Neither he nor l realised being a Rhesus Neg might, just might, make his concerns defunct as well. He gave me some pills, via prescription cashed in on the premises at the chemists desk. And for someone who is allergic to all meds, vaccines, and has nearly died from reactions too many times to count in here, l foolishly fancied him, this handsome GP, and aimed to please, and dutifully took what l didn’t know, were tranquillisers. For a week l took them knowing after they were gone l’d be seeing this good looking GP again, worth it👍 Then on day seven l was on the floor, crawling up the stairs, l couldn’t stand, l wobbled, l fell, everything was hazy, l never thought it was the pills, he was a doctor, wasn’t he? My friend turned up, another sanity line, Irish as they come was Cathy, six kids, big brood like mine. “What the hell is going on? Are you on something?” She took those pills and flushed them down my loo. She plied me with tea, she fed, washed, bedded my kids and monitored me for three days, when l was back to my normal agile, busy self. And my kids had their mum back. I went to see my doctor on his return, and he saw the prescription on my notes, read the notes the locum made, and went ballistic. “You Jeanie, never have, never will, suffer from depression, or any mental health illness, you are the most together young woman l have ever known, despite five kids far too young. Never, ever must you take meds for mental health again, you’re the last person on the planet to suffer mental health problems!” Adding, “l’ll be having very angry words with doctor xxxxxxx” A year later my Mediumship was made public by the Bishop of Peterborough at the Church of England whose diocese also covers my town. It’s a long story, but he asked me to speak to media, to help calm a certain situation that was upsetting people nationally at the time. I’d gone to them asking, “Please make it stop, l’m tired of ghosts, premonitions that always come true, and weirder than weirder paranormal all y life, please make the paranormal stop!” He said “We can’t, it’s a very special gift, you’ve been chosen by God, use it wisely!” It came to a massive conclusion and new mature beginning, a conclusion that went public on front pages, and where a Fleet Street journalist was put on my case. He piss took at me from the start, and l was angry, and that anger caused him a very bad time, because l looked up and said, silently, “this man needs a lesson!” And he was haunted for days, and being a North American, based in my area, he phoned me up just before publication, “What the F**k have you done to me lady, make it stop…” He was terrified as he told me how he was being haunted, and begged me to make it stop. I was shocked, l His, what had l done? But calmly said, “Now do you believe me? I can’t make it stop only you can, apologise to spirits for pee taking at them and to me, for laughing at me whilst getting your story, and learn!” He did. He wrote a fantastic piece, l was anonymous, deliberately, just ‘Jeanie’, it’s still in library newspaper archives on tape. And l’ve had the privilege of hearing myself read about, debated, and found sane, and insane all at once on a bus, none of the passengers knew l was the person they were reading about, and loudly debating. I learned humility that day. What helped me was my wonderful Irish Doctor, the reporter asked if l was sane, he clearly thought l wasn’t. I gave him my doctor’s phone number. And l phoned him. I’d never told him l was psychic before, but l believe like my first doctor, who delivered me, gave me life, and had witnessed weird around me himself, he already knew. I called and told him the media would phone him, convinced l’m a nutcase. l said, “Say whatever you like, l’m easy!” So he did. And these passengers read it out aloud. Even my Doctor’s full name, what a man at? And my first name. Reporter: “Jeanie says God speaks to her, answers her, does she have mental health problems?” Doc, “No she does not, and l believe her if she says it, that is true. And if the Pope told you he spoke with God, and God talked to him, would you call him deluded, insane, a liar?” “Well no… but…” Doc cuts in,”Then why wouldn’t He talk to Jeanie?” And he closed their conversation. He’s been dead a long time now, and l hope he’s guarding me, he’d be my preferred knight beside me, oh Doctor Moloney, l do love you like a dad!” Still, at my old age of 77. And l look forward to a cup of tea in your heavenly office. I have serious health issues. Rheumatoid arthritis and osteoarthritis throughout my body. I have lifelong asthma. I have since 2018 developed heart failure, which is killing me. So some days l’ll chat, some l’ll be bloody mindedly tough, after decades of giving way to doubters, today, l won’t! Call it hardening of the arteries, but l know this, l ain’t dying spiritually, because we never do. The movie Ghost got closest, as l’m sure Patrick Swayze has discovered. I’m gonna get as close as God will let me, even if it’s just outside the gate on the edge of His light. And l’m going to listen to Elvis, Johnny Cash, and our wonderful singer Tears For Souvenirs Are All You Left me… True Christians all three. I’ll truly be in heaven then. You can analyse till the cows come home, argue the toss about it all, think we’re more special than we are, l know we’re all equal in the sight of God.

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