It’s still on you, William.

Dear William,

How’s it going?
I’m exhausted.
I’m not defeated and I won’t stop.
I’ll never stop. It’s not even an option.
But, since I heard about you, three Mondays ago, I’ve been telling people about you. And even after all these years –even after how jaded I have become, there was still this excitement that came from knowing that a senior scientist from the CDC had spilled the beans!

Finally. They’d have to listen.
Those walls I have built up so high –those walls that pushed out the hope of the truth coming out in my lifetime… they crumbled a little.
A ray of fucking sunshine came through! For a moment.
And wouldn’t you know it… I was wrong!
Silly me.

See, it’s not just since 3 Mondays ago.
For me, it’s been 14 years.  Fourteen years of losing my best friends and family because they think I’m fucking crazy. Some said it outright and walked away… most I pushed away because I knew what they were saying behind my back, but I didn’t care because I knew I was right. I knew what I saw. It was biologically plausible and highly probable. It was real.

I AM exhausted.
Fourteen years for you too, huh?

Fourteen years have gone by in which you’ve met people like me and “felt guilty”.
For 14 years my son has gotten worse. My money dwindled to nothing. My hope at a career… gone. Autism didn’t just take out my kid, it took me out, too. From a tax payer to one who survives on my son’s disability check. You know how much money that is right? I’m 38 years old and this is my life. My last attempt at anything was 7 years ago. Law school. But as a single mom with an autistic child, well… why don’t you ask your lawyer how tolerable he thinks law school would have been if he was in my shoes. I had to walk away.

I must have been a Grade A asshole in a past life, eh? I was probably as evil as Paul Offit, do you think? To deserve this?  (It’s OK if you laughed at that last part, everyone knows Offit’s a dick.)

But if you could have stopped it all for me and my son, would you have?  If you could have whispered in my ear, “Don’t do it, Jenny. Don’t give Gavin that MMR shot.  Haven’t you noticed how poorly he reacted to all his other rounds of vaccines? That MMR is going to be the last straw! Hear those words he says? Those will go away. His language. The light in his eyes. His future. YOUR future. Gone. Just stop, Jenny. Think. Don’t get that shot.”

Would you? If I was your daughter?
Would you? If he was your grandson?

How many kids got their MMR shots since your press release? How many of them will go on to develop autism? Your press release is nothing without your face in front of a camera. Do you see that now?

They don’t care. You released a statement admitting what you did… and they don’t care. CNN runs a story telling ME that I just don’t hear very well when strangers tell me that vaccines did not hurt my kid. Paul Offit comes out and says that parents shouldn’t be afforded informed consent because we aren’t smart enough to understand what it all means. Some stupid morning talk show goes on about how great vaccines are and that the dropping numbers of vaccinated kids is a problem. THIS is how they react.

We need your face and voice in front of a camera.
How many more kids, William?

“You know what I mean
It’s like walking in the heat all day with no water
It’s like waiting for a friend
Watching everybody else meet theirs on that corner”


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