UK Jab Injury – Lauren, From UK
By Jab Injuries Global
I am not:
— A liar;
— Out to stir up fear;
— Out to cause division; or,
— Someone who has been affected by the vaccine;
— A follower of Jesus, the One who brings truth, therefore I seek to bring truth;
— A follower of Jesus, the One who brings justice, therefore I fight for justice;
— Hurting; and,
— Thankful to be alive.
As we approach Christmas, I am reminded of Jesus being the Prince of Peace. As His follower, I want to bring peace and unity, so please do not let this bring division (there’s already too much in our world right now).
However, I want truth, justice, freedom, and healing. These are things Jesus did and does bring. Jesus said: “I am the truth.” He was about truth, so surely I must be too? THis has felt a dirty secret I’ve been forced to keep for fear I’ll be labelled and silenced but God doesn’t want us to live in fear. I also feel the need to share in order to give God the glory for bringing me through this. In hiding it, I am hiding Him. So, here’s my story.
After my first jab, I was fatigued (like I’ve only known once in my life) and had abdominal pain. Blood tests showed nothing. Four weeks after my second jab, I woke up one morning unable to see or walk. It was scary to say the least. It then spread across my body and for the past three months, I have been experiencing massive trauma to my nervous system. This meant I couldn’t fully at times: walk, talk, see, taste, grip, think, speak, and breathe. Just over a month ago, I was diagnosed with ADEM, an autoimmune inflammatory reaction to the vaccine (I can’t write it or my account might be deleted like others). This reaction damaged my nervous system.
As I’ve said, I am very much pro-medicine and don’t want to instil fear. I strive to bring hope and peace as Jesus modelled so well. However, He also hated injected and gave a voice to those who were dejected, sick, and marginalised. Right now, That’s me and this community I never asked to be in but am thankful I found.
We are warriors — fighting everyday to get out of bed, leave our house, go to work etc. Waking up not knowing if it’ll be a day we can run or a day we can’t even walk.
We are tired of fighting — to be heard, seen, and healed. We are hurting — physically, emotionally, and mentally. THis is our reality and so, while we are being silenced, I will add my voice and share my story. In doing so, I want to give God the glory for saving my life, healing may body, surrounding kms with some of the best medical professionals in the country and bringing me a peace I’ve never known.
I’m not really sure how I’ve got through these past months other than to assume it’s from being carried by the prayers of so many and from living in the knowledge that one day my body will be fully healed when it meets its Maker. Until then, I am thankful for the friends who are with me and the God who saved me.
I’m an adventurer. I was and I will be again.
This weekend was one of the hardest I’ve had over the last few months. I’ve been experiencing spasm, numbness, pins and needles, twitches, and aches in my legs for a while but on Saturday, my legs gave in. A basic human function gone in a moment. Through frustrated tears, I kept on telling my legs to: “Just move properly. Just walk!”
On this journey, I’ve swung between two places: fear and hope. I’ve questioned if I’ll see, walk, run, drive, or work full time again. I’ve questioned my financial situation, my friendships, what my future holds with the dreams I have of a family. These are the moments fear kicks in. Then there are the moments hope has a voice. Sometimes fear shouts, whilst hope, hope often whispers. Two seemingly opposing emotions yet both driven from the same place: anticipation of the unknown (a place I’m learning how to live in) but which do we choose in these moments? Fear isn’t bad and must be acknowledge but sometimes choosing to listen to hope is that: a choice.
Having faith in Jesus gives me hope. Hope helps me get through the days I hadn’t think straight and the days I can’t walk straight and the days nothing makes sense. Jesus helps me move forward in hope. Today, whilst also living in anticipation of the unknown, I acknowledge my fears whilst also choosing hope. Sweet, bright, life-changing, powerful hope. A hope I draw from what I’ve known of the unchanging presence of Jesus. There is more to come for us both, my friend. There is hope.
This is my story and it’s not over yet.