Eve Sanchez Silver resigned from the Susan G. Komen board of
directors, when she learned that they give funds to Planned Parenthood
raised by the women who participate in the Race for the Cure.
For years, Colorado Right to Life has tried to bring truth to the racers
about the ABC link. We had a truth truck greeting the women with
the message, "Breast cancer's most avoidable risk factor: Abortion"
The media in Denver and nationally are keeping women completely
in the dark about the connection between abortion of a first pregnancy
and future increased rates of breast cancer.
To learn more see www.abortionbreastcancer.com
and www.pinkmoney.org
Monday, April 25, 2005
TESTIMONY: I was sixteen at the time of my first abortion. I missed my period and went to an OB/Gyn with excellent credentials for my pregnancy test. He showed me a period at the end of a sentence and told me that I was pregnant but that it was just a blob about the size of the period and that it would be a simple matter to have an abortion. I walked out with a vague sense of excitement at the thought of being a woman and pregnant. But I was resigned to abort. I was working with another OB/GYN at the time and did not fear or worry about my decision to abort. The day of the abortion arrived and I was taken in to be aborted.
I have learned since then that I am unusually small internally. I was given no sedative or any pain medication in preparation. He first inserted what I now know to be a large speculum. He began to rapidly crank it open. Almost immediately I was pinched and torn and began to cry out in pain. The doctor and his nurse worked steadily and ignored me. I was thrashing about. He secured one of my legs, forcing the other open over and over with his gloved hand. I began to scream in a short time. I was hysterical with burning, searing pain. The doctor, who had seemed calm, threw something down with a bang and yelled, “I’ll be back when you CALM DOWN,” he called this out as he walked away and left the room. I was left there for some time with these instruments inside me, one leg tied and screaming until I was hoarse. When he returned he was very abrupt and vicious. I was in a nightmare of pain and cramping. Soon I heard the gurgling sounds of a suction aspirator. When he was finished, he walked out tossing his gloves and cap at the basin.
There was a lot of blood where I had lain. I was given post abortion instructions and told to fill a prescription for birth control pill. I was given some medication and left with the father of my dead child, who had paid for the abortion. I had recently read Desmond Morris’s book, The Naked Ape. Although I was convinced that, as a higher order animal, I had the right to abort. I returned to my room and wept as if someone close to me had died. I was in excruciating pain for over 24 hours. My boyfriend was frightened. I just lay there and cried my heart out. At age 21, I aborted the first child of my marriage. I did not believe I deserved a child. I had hardened my heart to all children and complained about them. I said that if I were re-incarnated I wanted to come back as a childhood disease. It was something I had read somewhere and fitted my tough perspective on children. I said I hated them. And I did. During and after that abortion I felt incredible pain but I did not cry out. I felt completely soul-less and empty: I felt even emptier after the abortion. I felt I deserved the pain. Those were the first two of eleven total pregnancies.
I became a Christian and reveled in the forgiveness of Christ, I was relieved and desired to have children right away. I had a horribly incompetent cervix as a result of my awful abortions. My cervix appeared fine on the external surface but the internal surface was damaged, as if it had been pecked at by birds. My amniotic sack leaked through and hour-glassed, filling with fluid little by little until the full lower globe burst. I would lose the child: Again and again and again and again and again. Each child I carried longer and longer, begging God to grant me Life. I had one perfect pregnancy. My son. I continued to lose babies farther along after his birth. I was kept in bed, my useless cervix sown shut to keep the child in. I went into excruciating transition labor before they could cut open the stitches that shut my cervix. I was in full labor, with my cervix, sewn shut, before they got me back on the table. I was told over and over that I should abort this child or that child, because my life was in danger. “How do you know?” I asked. I had a miscarriage at 6.5 months and held a funeral for my little girl. Everyone left me alone but my son, who refused to leave my side.
BREAST CANCER As a breast cancer survivor, I have come to realize that this disease is not something one should tackle alone. It is a destroyer of morale and a debilitator of the spirit. Breast cancer has fractured my femininity and hurt my relationships: One needs support and encouragement, and occasionally, someone to cry with and someone to witness your rage. INITIAL DISCOVERY I discovered the 3 cm tumor beneath my breast while standing in the shower. As a medical research analyst, I carefully considered my options and chose to have a lumpectomy with grossly wide margins. Three years later, early in 2001, I was re-diagnosed. My cancer had returned. I took the aggressive path and had a bilateral mastectomy, with reconstruction and saline implants. One breast was taken prophylactically: I considered the decision with dread, but made my decision with firm convictions: My paternal first cousin Shirley, whom I loved (and a year younger than I), and our grandmother, both died of breast cancer. My own mother a nine-year survivor now, was diagnosed with breast cancer seven years before me. I wanted it OUT. I was in New York City at Sloane Kettering Cancer Care Center recovering, until September 10, 2001, the day before the World Trade Towers fell.
ABORTION BREAST CANCER LINK My strong family breast cancer history, according to Dr. Janet Daling’s study of American Women (Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, Seattle, Washington) raised my breast cancer risk by at least 270%. I have lost both breasts, my Grandmother and dear cousin to the disease, and walked through the disease with my mother, and twice alone. In the process of breast reconstruction I learned to my distress that I was not a good candidate for nipple reconstruction. I was not expecting the level of personal sadness, which accompanied this news. I realized that it mattered to no one else, but it did matter to me at a very personal and intimate level: My sensuality, my sexual experience are forever altered. There are flashing signs in the center of my soul which say: Caution: ONGOING RECONSTRUCTION OF SPIRITUAL AND MENTAL ATTITUDES: SELF-WORTH IN MIRROR MAY BE WORSE THAN IT APPEARS The dark side of dealing with breast cancer makes everyone else uncomfortable too. No hand is dear in that dread dark. One enters alone and is engulfed by devastation, loss and grief.
There are no easy words to describe the lingering shapes and shadows of anguish. I am a survivor, in every sense of that word. I feel that my life, my femininity and my self-image were fractured, then shattered, fragmented and reorganized. I know that is hard to hear; it is hard to write; but I believe it is important to say so. The breast cancer survivor is often presented in public, well after her ordeal, when the reality of her pain has been dealt with and diminished. I am an ebullient, effervescent person by nature; it was unimaginable, as a woman of faith, to find myself so thoroughly depressed and disheartened. My support system was severely fragmented and attenuated. When I got to see a linear accelerator up closer than I had ever expected to, it made me so sick. I lost layers of skin from my shoulder to my elbow and fought virulent infections. I developed a mild addiction to the painkillers that took me away from it all, just a little while. I was hospitalized for weeks at a time fighting to keep my breast implant. The expander, a device forced under my chest wall muscles to make room for the implant that they used for me, was much too large for my small frame. They made me claustrophobic and unable to sleep as they were filled with saline. It was a plastic bear-hug that made me fight for every breath.
Women deserve to know the fact that there is a breast cancer link, a physiological pathway between abortion and breast cancer, that leads to an empty legacy for women with a history of breast cancer in their families. Latina women and African American women have much more aggressive cancers and higher mortality rates. Someone said that emotion should not be a factor in these proceedings. He is not a woman, holding her first grandchild to her empty, salt-filled breast. Respectfully submitted, Eve Sanchez Silver Executive Director CINTA LATINA RESEARCH
I have learned since then that I am unusually small internally. I was given no sedative or any pain medication in preparation. He first inserted what I now know to be a large speculum. He began to rapidly crank it open. Almost immediately I was pinched and torn and began to cry out in pain. The doctor and his nurse worked steadily and ignored me. I was thrashing about. He secured one of my legs, forcing the other open over and over with his gloved hand. I began to scream in a short time. I was hysterical with burning, searing pain. The doctor, who had seemed calm, threw something down with a bang and yelled, “I’ll be back when you CALM DOWN,” he called this out as he walked away and left the room. I was left there for some time with these instruments inside me, one leg tied and screaming until I was hoarse. When he returned he was very abrupt and vicious. I was in a nightmare of pain and cramping. Soon I heard the gurgling sounds of a suction aspirator. When he was finished, he walked out tossing his gloves and cap at the basin.
There was a lot of blood where I had lain. I was given post abortion instructions and told to fill a prescription for birth control pill. I was given some medication and left with the father of my dead child, who had paid for the abortion. I had recently read Desmond Morris’s book, The Naked Ape. Although I was convinced that, as a higher order animal, I had the right to abort. I returned to my room and wept as if someone close to me had died. I was in excruciating pain for over 24 hours. My boyfriend was frightened. I just lay there and cried my heart out. At age 21, I aborted the first child of my marriage. I did not believe I deserved a child. I had hardened my heart to all children and complained about them. I said that if I were re-incarnated I wanted to come back as a childhood disease. It was something I had read somewhere and fitted my tough perspective on children. I said I hated them. And I did. During and after that abortion I felt incredible pain but I did not cry out. I felt completely soul-less and empty: I felt even emptier after the abortion. I felt I deserved the pain. Those were the first two of eleven total pregnancies.
I became a Christian and reveled in the forgiveness of Christ, I was relieved and desired to have children right away. I had a horribly incompetent cervix as a result of my awful abortions. My cervix appeared fine on the external surface but the internal surface was damaged, as if it had been pecked at by birds. My amniotic sack leaked through and hour-glassed, filling with fluid little by little until the full lower globe burst. I would lose the child: Again and again and again and again and again. Each child I carried longer and longer, begging God to grant me Life. I had one perfect pregnancy. My son. I continued to lose babies farther along after his birth. I was kept in bed, my useless cervix sown shut to keep the child in. I went into excruciating transition labor before they could cut open the stitches that shut my cervix. I was in full labor, with my cervix, sewn shut, before they got me back on the table. I was told over and over that I should abort this child or that child, because my life was in danger. “How do you know?” I asked. I had a miscarriage at 6.5 months and held a funeral for my little girl. Everyone left me alone but my son, who refused to leave my side.
BREAST CANCER As a breast cancer survivor, I have come to realize that this disease is not something one should tackle alone. It is a destroyer of morale and a debilitator of the spirit. Breast cancer has fractured my femininity and hurt my relationships: One needs support and encouragement, and occasionally, someone to cry with and someone to witness your rage. INITIAL DISCOVERY I discovered the 3 cm tumor beneath my breast while standing in the shower. As a medical research analyst, I carefully considered my options and chose to have a lumpectomy with grossly wide margins. Three years later, early in 2001, I was re-diagnosed. My cancer had returned. I took the aggressive path and had a bilateral mastectomy, with reconstruction and saline implants. One breast was taken prophylactically: I considered the decision with dread, but made my decision with firm convictions: My paternal first cousin Shirley, whom I loved (and a year younger than I), and our grandmother, both died of breast cancer. My own mother a nine-year survivor now, was diagnosed with breast cancer seven years before me. I wanted it OUT. I was in New York City at Sloane Kettering Cancer Care Center recovering, until September 10, 2001, the day before the World Trade Towers fell.
ABORTION BREAST CANCER LINK My strong family breast cancer history, according to Dr. Janet Daling’s study of American Women (Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, Seattle, Washington) raised my breast cancer risk by at least 270%. I have lost both breasts, my Grandmother and dear cousin to the disease, and walked through the disease with my mother, and twice alone. In the process of breast reconstruction I learned to my distress that I was not a good candidate for nipple reconstruction. I was not expecting the level of personal sadness, which accompanied this news. I realized that it mattered to no one else, but it did matter to me at a very personal and intimate level: My sensuality, my sexual experience are forever altered. There are flashing signs in the center of my soul which say: Caution: ONGOING RECONSTRUCTION OF SPIRITUAL AND MENTAL ATTITUDES: SELF-WORTH IN MIRROR MAY BE WORSE THAN IT APPEARS The dark side of dealing with breast cancer makes everyone else uncomfortable too. No hand is dear in that dread dark. One enters alone and is engulfed by devastation, loss and grief.
There are no easy words to describe the lingering shapes and shadows of anguish. I am a survivor, in every sense of that word. I feel that my life, my femininity and my self-image were fractured, then shattered, fragmented and reorganized. I know that is hard to hear; it is hard to write; but I believe it is important to say so. The breast cancer survivor is often presented in public, well after her ordeal, when the reality of her pain has been dealt with and diminished. I am an ebullient, effervescent person by nature; it was unimaginable, as a woman of faith, to find myself so thoroughly depressed and disheartened. My support system was severely fragmented and attenuated. When I got to see a linear accelerator up closer than I had ever expected to, it made me so sick. I lost layers of skin from my shoulder to my elbow and fought virulent infections. I developed a mild addiction to the painkillers that took me away from it all, just a little while. I was hospitalized for weeks at a time fighting to keep my breast implant. The expander, a device forced under my chest wall muscles to make room for the implant that they used for me, was much too large for my small frame. They made me claustrophobic and unable to sleep as they were filled with saline. It was a plastic bear-hug that made me fight for every breath.
Women deserve to know the fact that there is a breast cancer link, a physiological pathway between abortion and breast cancer, that leads to an empty legacy for women with a history of breast cancer in their families. Latina women and African American women have much more aggressive cancers and higher mortality rates. Someone said that emotion should not be a factor in these proceedings. He is not a woman, holding her first grandchild to her empty, salt-filled breast. Respectfully submitted, Eve Sanchez Silver Executive Director CINTA LATINA RESEARCH
Personal Testimony & Abortion-Breast Cancer Link
Cinta Latina Research, LLC - Deposition to Alaska State Review Board ^ | April 15, 2005 | Eve Sanchez Silver
Posted on 04/25/2005 8:43:21 AM MDT by Lesforlife
This is an expanded version of the testimony I provided to the Committee by phone. Dear Committee members: This is the first time that I have given public testimony regarding the fact of my abortions. It has taken me years to do so.
BACKGROUND: I am a medical research analyst and a published member of the American Medical Writers Association. My work provides support for translational research goals in the basic sciences. I have partnered with the Army Medical Research and Materiel Command, The Department of Defense, The National Cancer Institute and other scientific institutions and organizations.
As a researcher I have developed a non-surgical cosmetic tool for breast cancer survivors. I am a former charter member of the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation’s National Hispanic Latina Advisory Council, informing the organization concerning best practices in addressing breast cancer disparities among Latina populations nation wide and served on their breast cancer tumor review board for two years. I lecture widely at universities and institutions across the country with a focus on the abortion-breast cancer information disparity. I lecture internationally on the physiological pathway of the abortion-breast cancer link (Australia and New Zealand 08/05).
Currently I am involved in several research projects focused on light at night and disruption of the circadian rhythm, sleep/wake cycle. I am well informed, reasonable and approach the dialog on abortion and breast cancer from many directions, but wish to focus on my own personal experience with abortion and its devastating aftermath, breast cancer. I know without a doubt that breast cancer risk information and photos of the child within me would have decided for me against having any abortions.
(Excerpt) Read more at pinkmoney.org ...
Cinta Latina Research, LLC - Deposition to Alaska State Review Board ^ | April 15, 2005 | Eve Sanchez Silver
Posted on 04/25/2005 8:43:21 AM MDT by Lesforlife
This is an expanded version of the testimony I provided to the Committee by phone. Dear Committee members: This is the first time that I have given public testimony regarding the fact of my abortions. It has taken me years to do so.
BACKGROUND: I am a medical research analyst and a published member of the American Medical Writers Association. My work provides support for translational research goals in the basic sciences. I have partnered with the Army Medical Research and Materiel Command, The Department of Defense, The National Cancer Institute and other scientific institutions and organizations.
As a researcher I have developed a non-surgical cosmetic tool for breast cancer survivors. I am a former charter member of the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation’s National Hispanic Latina Advisory Council, informing the organization concerning best practices in addressing breast cancer disparities among Latina populations nation wide and served on their breast cancer tumor review board for two years. I lecture widely at universities and institutions across the country with a focus on the abortion-breast cancer information disparity. I lecture internationally on the physiological pathway of the abortion-breast cancer link (Australia and New Zealand 08/05).
Currently I am involved in several research projects focused on light at night and disruption of the circadian rhythm, sleep/wake cycle. I am well informed, reasonable and approach the dialog on abortion and breast cancer from many directions, but wish to focus on my own personal experience with abortion and its devastating aftermath, breast cancer. I know without a doubt that breast cancer risk information and photos of the child within me would have decided for me against having any abortions.
(Excerpt) Read more at pinkmoney.org ...
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
My Two Terri s
Terri, meet Terri. You don’t know one another but we all have something
in common. I have had the pleasure to have been involved in heroic efforts
to save you both from the Euthanasia movement’s diabolic plans to steal your lives.
Uncanny isn’t it?
Theresa Corrao and I crossed paths in 1996. My husband and I were just about
to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. One fateful day, I heard a pathologist
named Paul Corrao on television stating that his sister Theresa was in a hospice
and was being severely overmedicated. He was trying to rescue her from the facility
and save her life. He mentioned one Susan Fox Buchanan – a Denver elder care “expert.”
Having sat in on numerous Governor’s Commission on Life and the Law meetings
in the late 1980s and early 1990s, that name jumped out at me as one heavily invested
in the pro-death ethic that so permeated the beautiful state of Colorado in those years.
I contacted Paul Corrao and warned him that there was an insidious plan afoot in my
state that he should be aware of. From that point forward Paul and I worked togetherto save Theresa from those who sought to destroy her. After all, Theresa had signed an advanced directive waiving extraordinary care hadn’t she?
Paul and I persuaded Theresa that life was worth living and that she actually might
like to sign a will to live. Unfortunately, Theresa Corrao had a severe bedsore that
needed surgical repair. Ironically, she worked for the hospital where the surgery
would take place and she had insurance to cover it with her employer, Columbia HCA.
During the planning stages for the surgery, Paul, insisted that the surgery be performed under a local anesthesia. As a pathologist, he believed that his sister’s liver was quite compromised by her treatment for breast cancer as well as the extremely high amounts of morphine used in hospice prior to her leaving the facility. As Paul left the hospital the evening before the surgery, doctors approached Terri and persuaded her to agree to a general anesthetic, possibly stating that they wouldn’t be able to manage her pain with a local.
Theresa underwent approximately 5 hours of surgery that fateful day. As I entered her room post surgery to confer with Paul, death was in the air. As he had feared, her liver was unable to process the anesthesia from such a lengthy procedure. Theresa Corrao died shortly thereafter, destroyed by the pro-death movement in Colorado – progenitor of the euthanasia movement, nationally.
Terri Schiavo’s loved ones were holding a 24hour prayer vigil for her in front of her
Pinellas Park, FL hospice. This event was to thrust her into the international spotlight, where she would remain, for the next 18 months. During that period, I would travel to Florida five times to work, tirelessly, to save Terri’s life. I had the honor and pleasure to work alongside hundreds, if not thousands of individuals dedicated to helping Terri’s parents and siblings spare her life.
This incredible woman inspired us all to work to protect her from the insidious conspiracy by the so called “right to die” forces which found themselves in the perfect storm of circumstances arrayed to deliver Terri to their dark plot.
Former husband, Michael Schiavo, was able to persuade nearly every level of government, judiciary and media that she wouldn’t want to live as a disabled
person. Despite heroic efforts and prayers by pro-lifers and disability activists
in the US, it apparently wasn’t meant to be.
As a member of a team of lobbyists working to pass the “Jessie Jackson sip of water compromise” I am pleased to say that we never gave up, as long as Terri held on, for
nearly 14 days without food or water – while not even an ice chip was allowed to quench her insatiable thirst.
Terri either passed or was pushed into eternity on March 31, 2005 at the end of Holy
Week. She and her family taught us a lot about love, perseverance and dedication to family.
Her president and governor taught us they knew - little to nothing - about the constitution, which guaranteed Terri due process of law and religious liberty, as well as freedom from cruel and unusual punishment.
As our nation this week mourns the passing of Pope John Paul and tries to make
sense of Terri’s senseless death and the Florida corruption which ensured it, I ponder the irony of losing 2 friends named Terri to a death machine that has its origin in my beautiful state, Colorado. Like the hospice grounds where Terri was held hostage for the past five years, what looks beautiful to the undiscerning eye, often has below the surface – deadly evil.
Terri, meet Terri. You don’t know one another but we all have something
in common. I have had the pleasure to have been involved in heroic efforts
to save you both from the Euthanasia movement’s diabolic plans to steal your lives.
Uncanny isn’t it?
Theresa Corrao and I crossed paths in 1996. My husband and I were just about
to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. One fateful day, I heard a pathologist
named Paul Corrao on television stating that his sister Theresa was in a hospice
and was being severely overmedicated. He was trying to rescue her from the facility
and save her life. He mentioned one Susan Fox Buchanan – a Denver elder care “expert.”
Having sat in on numerous Governor’s Commission on Life and the Law meetings
in the late 1980s and early 1990s, that name jumped out at me as one heavily invested
in the pro-death ethic that so permeated the beautiful state of Colorado in those years.
I contacted Paul Corrao and warned him that there was an insidious plan afoot in my
state that he should be aware of. From that point forward Paul and I worked togetherto save Theresa from those who sought to destroy her. After all, Theresa had signed an advanced directive waiving extraordinary care hadn’t she?
Paul and I persuaded Theresa that life was worth living and that she actually might
like to sign a will to live. Unfortunately, Theresa Corrao had a severe bedsore that
needed surgical repair. Ironically, she worked for the hospital where the surgery
would take place and she had insurance to cover it with her employer, Columbia HCA.
During the planning stages for the surgery, Paul, insisted that the surgery be performed under a local anesthesia. As a pathologist, he believed that his sister’s liver was quite compromised by her treatment for breast cancer as well as the extremely high amounts of morphine used in hospice prior to her leaving the facility. As Paul left the hospital the evening before the surgery, doctors approached Terri and persuaded her to agree to a general anesthetic, possibly stating that they wouldn’t be able to manage her pain with a local.
Theresa underwent approximately 5 hours of surgery that fateful day. As I entered her room post surgery to confer with Paul, death was in the air. As he had feared, her liver was unable to process the anesthesia from such a lengthy procedure. Theresa Corrao died shortly thereafter, destroyed by the pro-death movement in Colorado – progenitor of the euthanasia movement, nationally.
Terri Schiavo’s loved ones were holding a 24hour prayer vigil for her in front of her
Pinellas Park, FL hospice. This event was to thrust her into the international spotlight, where she would remain, for the next 18 months. During that period, I would travel to Florida five times to work, tirelessly, to save Terri’s life. I had the honor and pleasure to work alongside hundreds, if not thousands of individuals dedicated to helping Terri’s parents and siblings spare her life.
This incredible woman inspired us all to work to protect her from the insidious conspiracy by the so called “right to die” forces which found themselves in the perfect storm of circumstances arrayed to deliver Terri to their dark plot.
Former husband, Michael Schiavo, was able to persuade nearly every level of government, judiciary and media that she wouldn’t want to live as a disabled
person. Despite heroic efforts and prayers by pro-lifers and disability activists
in the US, it apparently wasn’t meant to be.
As a member of a team of lobbyists working to pass the “Jessie Jackson sip of water compromise” I am pleased to say that we never gave up, as long as Terri held on, for
nearly 14 days without food or water – while not even an ice chip was allowed to quench her insatiable thirst.
Terri either passed or was pushed into eternity on March 31, 2005 at the end of Holy
Week. She and her family taught us a lot about love, perseverance and dedication to family.
Her president and governor taught us they knew - little to nothing - about the constitution, which guaranteed Terri due process of law and religious liberty, as well as freedom from cruel and unusual punishment.
As our nation this week mourns the passing of Pope John Paul and tries to make
sense of Terri’s senseless death and the Florida corruption which ensured it, I ponder the irony of losing 2 friends named Terri to a death machine that has its origin in my beautiful state, Colorado. Like the hospice grounds where Terri was held hostage for the past five years, what looks beautiful to the undiscerning eye, often has below the surface – deadly evil.
Monday, April 04, 2005
IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO END THIS WAY!!
Dear Terri,
I always believed some real men, some men with testosterone would
show up and rescue you before it was too late!
President Bush and your Governor - Jeb Bush had a constitutional
mandate to protect your constitutional right to life and liberty and
spare you from cruel and unusual punishment.
I guess they threw it away by bowing to little "judge" Greer - now
the most powerful man in the land.
Forgive them Terri, they know not what they do.
Dear Terri,
I always believed some real men, some men with testosterone would
show up and rescue you before it was too late!
President Bush and your Governor - Jeb Bush had a constitutional
mandate to protect your constitutional right to life and liberty and
spare you from cruel and unusual punishment.
I guess they threw it away by bowing to little "judge" Greer - now
the most powerful man in the land.
Forgive them Terri, they know not what they do.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
March 31, 2005 – “Mine eyes have seen the Glory of the coming of the Lord,
he has trampled out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored. He has loosed the fateful lightening of his terrible swift sword, HIS truth is marching on”. . . Battle Hymn of the Republic.
Mary Schindler’s Baby
The events of the past month have been a microcosm of the 15 year long struggle
of the wonderful Schindler family to help their beautiful daughter and sister,Terri
survive what seems to be a massive Pinellas Park, FL conspiracy against her life.
The agony I have experienced these few intense weeks, is miniscule compared to
those who have loved her, have cherished her smile, her struggle to communicate,
her touch. They have taught us well the notions of nobility, compassion, dignity,
as well as fighting to the bitter end to save a life.
Against all odds, their loved one became an international celebrity and like another
with no such desire, Terri Schindler became the Roe v Wade of the euthanasia movment.
Her state sanctioned, court ordered starvation and dehydration murder had to be
successfully achieved – and so the powers that be backed down from the fight
for an innocent woman and the future of our nation.
It has been my privilege to have been involved in the biggest epic struggle of
my lifetime, trying to spare Terri’s life and allow her to receive the therapy
she so richly deserved.
The pictures seen on this web log are to chronicle history. Never before in
U.S. History has this heinous act been perpetrated upon an innocent woman,
who had committed no crime. Our nation will pay a price. The Lord had this
bitter saga carried out on the public stage for 2 long weeks. He used this struggle
to separate the wheat from the chaff. The leaders of our country feigned sorrow
about this “tragic situation” but were found severely wanting when it came to really
saving a life.
Terri deserved better, her family deserved better, our nation’s children deserved
better, our nation deserved better. President Bush and Governor Bush had a constitutional mandate to protect the constitutional rights of their citizens. They
squandered it and now a circuit court “judge” is the most powerful man in the land.
He has likely put the final nail in the coffin of our system of checks and balances.
A mother’s love for a baby she has carried never fades and can never be destroyed.
Mary’s love was without measure – her dedication to the life she brought forth
into this world has taught us all about the never ending quest to protect that
life, despite the incredible cost. Her opponents have taught us about the macabre, the depraved and the demented.
Mr. Schiavo plans to bury Terri’s ashes in Pennsylvania, once the evidence of
his abuse has been eradicated. The Lord, however, works in mysterious ways.
God have mercy upon the soul of this land!
he has trampled out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored. He has loosed the fateful lightening of his terrible swift sword, HIS truth is marching on”. . . Battle Hymn of the Republic.
Mary Schindler’s Baby
The events of the past month have been a microcosm of the 15 year long struggle
of the wonderful Schindler family to help their beautiful daughter and sister,Terri
survive what seems to be a massive Pinellas Park, FL conspiracy against her life.
The agony I have experienced these few intense weeks, is miniscule compared to
those who have loved her, have cherished her smile, her struggle to communicate,
her touch. They have taught us well the notions of nobility, compassion, dignity,
as well as fighting to the bitter end to save a life.
Against all odds, their loved one became an international celebrity and like another
with no such desire, Terri Schindler became the Roe v Wade of the euthanasia movment.
Her state sanctioned, court ordered starvation and dehydration murder had to be
successfully achieved – and so the powers that be backed down from the fight
for an innocent woman and the future of our nation.
It has been my privilege to have been involved in the biggest epic struggle of
my lifetime, trying to spare Terri’s life and allow her to receive the therapy
she so richly deserved.
The pictures seen on this web log are to chronicle history. Never before in
U.S. History has this heinous act been perpetrated upon an innocent woman,
who had committed no crime. Our nation will pay a price. The Lord had this
bitter saga carried out on the public stage for 2 long weeks. He used this struggle
to separate the wheat from the chaff. The leaders of our country feigned sorrow
about this “tragic situation” but were found severely wanting when it came to really
saving a life.
Terri deserved better, her family deserved better, our nation’s children deserved
better, our nation deserved better. President Bush and Governor Bush had a constitutional mandate to protect the constitutional rights of their citizens. They
squandered it and now a circuit court “judge” is the most powerful man in the land.
He has likely put the final nail in the coffin of our system of checks and balances.
A mother’s love for a baby she has carried never fades and can never be destroyed.
Mary’s love was without measure – her dedication to the life she brought forth
into this world has taught us all about the never ending quest to protect that
life, despite the incredible cost. Her opponents have taught us about the macabre, the depraved and the demented.
Mr. Schiavo plans to bury Terri’s ashes in Pennsylvania, once the evidence of
his abuse has been eradicated. The Lord, however, works in mysterious ways.
God have mercy upon the soul of this land!
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Friday, April 01, 2005
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