Carbamazapine is a Bad Drug
Report from someone who is on Carbamazapine
I, Janet Cattier, am reporting on the behalf of a mother whose daughter is on Carbamazapine, Quietapine, Clonazapine and paroxetine.
Since the doctor has increased the dose of carbamazepine from 200mg too 400mg this poor mother's daughter has become confused, cant do anything, and cant go out anymore. To think they might up the dose to a 1000mg! I this dose this will kill the person concerned...
I am certain the doctors and social workers concerned don't have any idea what they are prescribing and how that some patients might have an intolerance to foods and substances as discovered, after years of suffering under the doctors in my poor brother's case. He had written about his suffering on his website: www.newtomedicalscience.org
My 90 year old grandmother was given stelazine by her Loughton GP and it made her go crazy, seeing granddad; singing and dancing the old time songs, and accusing us of stealing her handbag. Her eldest son, my uncle Henry, told her Gp off for giving such a strong drug to an old lady! Nanny returned to normal after stopping the drug. What protection is there from these bad bad doctors and social workers al; getting good money off the taxpayer!
Decet vulputate nulla roto
Madness caused by Stelazine and then Limbitrol
Schizophrenia was misdiagnosed in Stephen. He previously had a breakdown by over working. He did voluntary work trying to help people: using his car to get sick peoples' prescriptions; mending cars; courting a beauty, Vicky. The only person who knew Stephen was over doing things was his sister, Janet.
‘Something is happening to you. You must slow down!.’ Janet could see that her brother had looked anxious and tired. She did not like the 'look of things’.
Sure enough, a few days later he had been admitted to Claybury psychiatric hospital. Stephen had gone to the family GP Dr Hayland complaining of pains and tiredness. That doctor had given Stephen drugs for schizophrenia, which made him worse. Stephen had been put on a stretcher and carted away by ambulance.
Their parents had been told not to visit Brian for three weeks, but Janet went to see her brother regardless. As she entered that dark rambling hospital, a sense of foreboding overwhelmed her. The place appeared desserted. After wandering awhile though the winding corridors she came across a large room with high sashed windows. A coal fire was burning in the spacious fireplace to her left. To her consternation she saw Stephen on the floor by a long wooden table. His wheel chair was on its side with her dear brother in it.
Janet looked around the large deserted room and spied a patient in a scruffy tweed suit by the entrance staring at Stephen.
‘Can you tell me where the nurses are?’ Janet spoke slowly so that the patient understood her. The bulging eyed sad man had a pink bow tying up his greying frizzled shoulder length hair. Without a word the patient made a quick exit. Two nurses then entered the room to see to Stephen.
A few weeks later, Janet was invited with her parents to see the top psychiatrist of Claybury hospital. To her horror Janet saw that he was none other than the ‘patient’ with the pink bow who had been staring at her poor brother on the floor in his wheel chair. Dr Klasnic was now clean shaven with short back and sids, but was still recognizable by his bulging eyes.
Get in touch with Janet Cattier at this Email address: email@example.com
That poor mothers daughter mentioned in another page on the 'Mintorial Sectioning team, is now on a concoction of medication: Carbamazapine; paroxatine; clonzapine; quietiapine. And she is doing some mad things while on it: she puts soap powder in some foods, thinking it will clean it and kill bugs! Some one told that mother it is sending her daughter mad.
The mental health in Oyser Court do not appear to care as lontg as they gewt paid, just like the sectioning team. I saw two homeless young mken begging in doorways in Crouch Street. This upset me as one was on crutches just out of hospital after an operation. I stopped to ask them why they were begging in doorways in the middle of winter.
"We have had our money stopped, and have lost our flats."
"Well why dont you go bto the Salvation Army up the Road. They have a nice warm lage building and they will help you." I told them greatly upset and concerned as I had met them before thyrough my daughter as she has tried to help these type cof people, often at great emotional esxpense to herself! A bit like me when I was doing full time and part time misionary work-you m,eet all sorts of sad people, but you do have to he careful...
I went to the vegetable shop on a corner and bought some bananas. I was crying and the shopkeeper gave me a few to give to these poor young men, which I did. Then I we4nt home and phoned social servises and Oyster Court who saiod they werer not interested. Even a policeman walked past these two young men and just kicked drink can back at them. Shoppers were walking past, and a woman gave one of these men a packet of sandwhiches, which I thought was kind. I told Oyster Court: "Why dont you pick up these two men and stop sectioning that poor mother's daughter who has a good home: every time she's been section she got worse." What was wrong in doscussing thing in the daughter's home! That mother tells me her daughter was framed because they listened to some awful men where her daughter lived. When her daughter swtayed away for a while they had to get rid of one awful man. Her daughter should never have been accused and that is where the troubled laid. The police admitted it. Crown Court Judges are not stupid and believed her, but juries can be easily misled. Especially if there is an irate ex-TV series judge sitting in the jury who was interrupted to take on another program-this mother did her research and has Law men in her family. My mother's brother was the youngest inspector to enter Scotland Yard, Valentine Flay, a real 'Inspector Morse'!
As far as I can see, the mental health service does not carew and it is 'Next One Please'.
Left: me, Janet; my daughter, V Racheal; my frather, Leonard Cattier; my brother, Stephen. We were visiting Cheddar Gorge. I was about 32 years old at the time.
Bottom left: me 15 years old; Stephen, nine years old; our mother, Ivy, with Patch our dog and Pru, our cat. This picture as taken in the dining room of our terraced house at 25 Richmond Road, Walthemstow, E17.
Above: me, Stephen and our mother, Ivy, on a family holiday in Cornwall during 1974, after the birth of V Racheal.
My wedding. I made my own wedding dress, and bought the material in a shop down Walthamstow market.I was geeting on for 30 at the time. This was June the 21st, 1969, the year man first stepped on the moon.
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