Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only €10,99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    I Do Not Consent: My Fight Against Medical Cancel Culture
    I Do Not Consent: My Fight Against Medical Cancel Culture
    I Do Not Consent: My Fight Against Medical Cancel Culture
    Ebook124 pages2 hours

    I Do Not Consent: My Fight Against Medical Cancel Culture

    By Simone Gold, M.D., J.D.

    4/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    “The bumper-sticker directive to ‘follow the science’ was actually an evasion of responsibility. It let people off the hook for their bad decisions in a crisis. Was New York Governor Cuomo’s executive order sending COVID-hospitalized patients back to nursing homes to infect other vulnerable nursing home patients ‘following the science’? Of course not. And sending post-hospitalization COVID-positive patients back to nursing homes was unnecessary. Relative to the total nursing home population, Governor Cuomo contributed to a larger percentage of nursing-home deaths—especially when compared to the states without such a policy. New Jersey’s over seven thousand nursing home deaths account for half of the state’s fatalities since March. Pennsylvania did just as miserably. These governors made specific decisions that cost thousands of the most vulnerable, most expendable, their lives. But they didn’t do it to their own relatives.”
    —From I Do Not Consent

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPost Hill Press
    Release dateOct 15, 2020
    ISBN9781642938913
    I Do Not Consent: My Fight Against Medical Cancel Culture

    Related to I Do Not Consent

    Related ebooks

    Medical For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related categories

    Reviews for I Do Not Consent

    4/5

    10 ratings3 reviews

    What our readers think

    Readers find this title to be a brilliant and incisive account of a medical travesty. It provides a powerful message about the importance of hope in overcoming fear. While there are some factual errors in the book, it is still highly recommended for its thought-provoking content.

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 5/5
      A brilliant and incisive account of the quintessential homicidal medical travesty of our times. Do yourself a favor: read it.

      2 people found this helpful

    • 5/5
      ...from the book...
      Fear is like radioactivity: once released, it filters into everything. But we can stop being afraid by choosing to live joyfully in hope.
      The first president of post communist Czechoslovakia, Vaclav Havel, said, "Hope is not the same thing as optimism. It is ...the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out." Hope is the lead shield protecting us from radioactive fear. (pg 72).
      Return to normalcy by filtering out the media noise related to the virus. (pg 74)

      4 people found this helpful

    • 1/5
      The book is mislabeled, it belongs in the fiction section. The factual errors in the first 3 pages alone prove this.

    Book preview

    I Do Not Consent - Simone Gold, M.D., J.D.

    I.

    Patient One: On the Frontlines of the COVID Pandemic

    The virus arrived largely without warning, particularly for the general public. As events unfolded, media coverage portrayed a world at war with an invisible combatant. Glowing red blobs superimposed on the map showed the blast radius of infections rippling out from its epicenter in Wuhan—a city in eastern China’s Hubei Province and home to China’s only level four biosafety lab—then to the industrial north of Italy, on to the rest of Europe, and eventually to population centers on the coasts of the continental United States. We were watching unfold a situation that no one alive had seen or managed. Sure, we read about global viral pandemics in history books and medical journals. But being on the frontlines and dealing with it in real time was a new experience.

    COVID-19 is the respiratory disease caused by the new or novel human coronavirus. We knew at the time that the pathogen spread through droplets in coughs and sneezes, and that it was highly contagious. Precautions were taken. These included hand-washing, disinfection, and social distancing. Handshakes were out; people avoided large group gatherings when possible. Most important of all, Americans from the boardroom to the corner bodega were told to stay home from work if they felt sick.

    My state of California recorded its first case of the virus on January 26, 2020. By February the international body responsible for naming viruses had settled on SARS-SoV-2 owing to its genetic similarities with the class of virus responsible for the Chinese SARS outbreak of 2002. President Trump declared a public health emergency on February 3. Complex geopolitics combined with a naive trust in Chinese health officials led the World Health Organization (WHO) to delay its labeling COVID-19 a global pandemic until almost the middle of March.

    In the United States, the disease began as a cluster of infections in a suburban nursing home east of Seattle and resulted in the first U.S. death associated with COVID-19 on February 29. The same day, the U.S. surgeon general admonished Americans for buying face masks, tweeting Seriously people—stop buying masks! They are not effective in preventing general public [sic] from catching #Coronavirus …. As new cases and deaths climbed in March, fears of overwhelmed, under-equipped hospitals grew as well.

    By mid-March President Trump’s administration had issued new guidelines to slow the virus’s spread, including avoiding discretionary travel and groups of ten or more people when possible. The media’s coverage of the lack of testing supplies intensified. According to a poll released by the American Psychiatric Association, 48 percent of Americans reported that they felt anxious about the possibility of contracting coronavirus. Meanwhile, healthcare workers on the frontlines bore the brunt of the emergency—and the risk.

    Then on March 13, President Trump declared a national emergency, directing billions of dollars and a massive intergovernmental effort to contain the spread. Like a majority of Americans in those days, doctors were still unclear what was happening. To the extent the US media commented on COVID-19, its coverage had been uneven and slow to catch up with partisan domestic priorities such as the impeachment and the Mueller report. Elected officials in both parties sent mixed signals based on bad information from the WHO, China, and other sources.

    Not long afterwards I started seeing my first COVID patients. The question in my mind was how to provide the most effective care given the uncertainty of the moment. My colleagues were placing virtually every symptomatic person they saw on oxygen and treating most with antibiotics. These patients had their heartbeats monitored as well.

    The common antimalarial drug called hydroxychloroquine (HCQ) had been shown to be effective against the first SARS outbreak close to two decades ago. Could it work now, I wondered? I knew about HCQ because many years ago when I was planning a trip to Africa, the travel physician just handed me the prescription—no conversation—just, Here, take this, start now. It was a simple, white tablet, taken weekly. The drug can be safely taken by pregnant women and nursing mothers, the young and the old.

    My personal experience with the drug coupled with my physician’s knowledge that it’s extremely safe meant I was excited about its treatment possibilities for COVID-19. The U.K.’s Imperial College COVID Response Team had recently predicted more than two million Americans could die if no actions were taken. HCQ was something I could use to treat patients right away in an emerging situation.

    My first confirmed positive patient was a woman in her fifties in the mid-stages of COVID-19. When I saw her in the emergency department of the hospital where I worked, her symptoms included a low fever and some shortness of breath with chest pain, but otherwise she was stable. The woman was somewhat sick and faced a significant chance of becoming critically ill, but at the moment she was in pretty good shape. She could take medications on her own, had a family prepared to monitor her progress, and could return if her condition worsened. She was the perfect outpatient candidate for hydroxychloroquine. Let’s call her Patient One.

    In the early days of the pandemic, people were innovating and trying new things. For example, by late March the FDA was letting doctors apply to administer convalescent plasma—the antibody-rich blood drawn from COVID-recovered individuals—to their patients on a case-by-case basis. They pointed out that plasma had been an effective treatment for other coronaviruses. I saw HCQ in much the same way. Early-adopter physicians like me were intrigued by the potential of HCQ. The opposing opinion was simply do what you think is best. At this point there was no controversy.

    I saw both in- and outpatients at the time. Inpatients are those requiring hospitalization while outpatients can be discharged from the emergency department. Unlike the experience at some hospitals, equipment shortages fortunately never became an issue in ours. We had enough personal protective equipment (PPE) for the nurses and doctors.

    I had done my residency training in New York and I quizzed my former colleagues during the early days of COVID-19. I read all the available clinical studies and followed the administration’s daily Coronavirus Task Force briefings when I wasn’t working clinically. As physicians, we were extremely conscientious about personal protective equipment. We were very careful about going home and possibly bringing the virus with us. We talked among ourselves almost compulsively about the availability of masks because we were the doctors doing the highest-risk procedures—intubations—inserting a tube into a patient’s trachea in order to open an airway for oxygen or medication.

    In preparing to treat Patient One I had followed Dr. Didier Raoult’s studies from Marseilles, France, the early studies from China, and those of a clinician named Dr. Zev Zelenko from New York, who had himself treated many hundreds of patients. Dr. Raoult had documented his success in treating COVID patients with HCQ at his clinic in southern France. Dr. Zelenko tested the drug regimen thousands of us would go on to prescribe.

    Dr. Harvey Risch, M.D., Ph.D., professor of epidemiology at the Yale School of Public Health, authored the most comprehensive study published on HCQ to date. It reviewed five outpatient studies, including Raoult’s, dealing with hydroxychloroquine and demonstrated how they had been either misinterpreted or willfully misreported in the media. I had also been tracking the worldwide scientific literature on HCQ. The most common side effect is mild nausea. According to US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) research, chloroquine [an earlier analog of HCQ] has been widely used to treat human diseases, such as malaria, amoebiasis, HIV, and autoimmune diseases, without significant detrimental side effects.

    HCQ was a drug which I knew had had billions of dosages (just in America) since the FDA approved it in April 1955. Decades of medical studies had proved its safety over and over again, and the vast majority of recent studies favored its effectiveness against COVID. Clinical guidance suggested by studies of HCQ indicate that as a treatment it’s more effective to use at the onset of illness rather than after hospitalization for COVID. This made it all the more likely to be useful to someone like me, who would typically see patients presenting with medium- and early-onset symptoms.

    Some of my colleagues were skeptical; most

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1