Apport: The Case of the Missing Meds
Apport and Me Redux
Back in June of 2014, I published a post on apport, called Apport–My Experience. An apport is the anomalous movement of or appearance and disappearance of typically small items, but not always. The annals show instances in which heavy furniture has somehow moved itself from one end of a house to another–through closed doors, no less, which were closed when the furniture migration was discovered!
That post recounts my own experiences and those of others. One person, for example, has time and again had keys disappear for days from their established location, only to turn up in some bizarre place they would never have been put or into which they could’ve fallen, More awkward has been the disappearing cane, only to have it show up days later in some never kept there location. Were I on different meds, what happened to me today could’ve been lethal.
As someone who takes a bunch of prescription meds and lots of vitamins, supplements and other beneficial things, there is a weekly ritual I detest but which is a must anyway. That is putting all those items, with the right doses, into the MedMinder. This is a rigorous, painstaking drill familiar from many years of weekly practice. While there have been times when I screwed up a bit, such as forgetting to put a certain med in a few slots, or the right med in the wrong slot, can guarantee you that never, in all the years of this drill, have I ever failed to provide for every day of the week, including Sunday, which is when I do the fill for the week.
Yet when I went to get my meds after breakfast today, Saturday 06/03/19, I was gobsmacked to see that somehow it was Sunday (too freaked out to see the date label), but I’d consumed the entire day’s load, since meds and whatnot went in practically as soon as I was awake. A quick check of my phone told me it was Saturday, so there should’ve been meds and all in those little bins, but there was nothing. And I certainly didn’t take anything, either. The MedMinder never left my room.
The dogs didn’t break into my room and eat them, and my only housemate takes very few pills, doesn’t like pills generally and rails aginst dealers. Besides, if seeking meds to sell, it would be better to get a week’s worth instead only a day’s.
After being hammered to a pulp and bedridden the biggest part of three days running, finding I was missing meds didn’t go well with me and was the last thing I needed. Fortunately, it’s better to have this sort of thing happen early in the month, than late, because in the first case, there is no need to miss taking what was planned and also, in the second case, because it allows potentially lower doses late in the month if things start to get tight. But remember, I said this could’ve been potentially lethal. Here’s why.
Though not one of them, some people are not only critically dependent on certain meds, but their timing as well. A friend of mine had to deal so many times with wrong meds, meds placed before him to which he was terribly allergic (despite repeatedly telling staff), improper doses and the like, not to mention vigorously repelled efforts (do not mess with a former SEAL) to force medicate him, both covertly and by (inadequate ) main force, that the state medical standards people were on a first name basis with him and paraded through his convalescent care facility a bunch of times. Those are real world experiences.
But what if, say, a heart attack victim is having another attack, only to find, far too late, the bottle of all-important nitroglycerin tablets has vanished? What if the antibiotics, which must be taken in a full course to kill a nasty infection, are now nowhere to be found, and the person’s not close to any pharmacy? What if whoever or whatever is doing this stuff (including writing on paper in a sealed and locked inverted aquarium, as detailed in the linked post), decides to get cute and start swapping people’s meds, adding ingredients to IV drips and such? As we all too well know, mischief can be carried too far and can even kill. The line between cute-annoying and deadly can be slim indeed. But from reports I’ve gotten, sometimes the pranks are a way of asking for attention from a suitably connected telepath.
One such is a Member of the Ground Contingent, Terran persons with a direct familial relationship to the ETs/EDs (Extraterrestrials/ Extradimensionals) of the Liberation Forces waging wars on end to free Earth and her children, the real humans. Real humans aren’t biomimetic robots (like in “Terminator”) or demons, such as BEK, or Reptilians (who can make us see them as us) or any number of other entities and things. This means only something in the 25-40% of all apparent humans are human. That Member of the Liberation Forces sometimes has apport experiences as a kind of “Notice me” cue, which can then lead to anything from a simple exchange to a complex negotiation or even war! Not kidding.
So far, no entity, being, robot or anything else has pinged me telepathically, and telepathy is a many times daily thing for me. The crack medical team of the Da’ Shen (formerly powerful evil witches, but now part of the Liberation Forces as super smart academics, master healers and fearsome warriors all in one) that’s worked for days (in conjunction with that Member of Ground Contingent and with limited assistance from me) to first stabilize me and heal me from incapacitating, agonizing combined attacks, tells me that the meds will reappear later, so I won’t actually lose any. Shall tell the story of the attacks, my healing and recovery later, later, but for now, let’s just say they were so bad I thought skull bones would break and one of my ear drums would rupture.
Don’t know what my latest apport is about, but you can be sure I’ll keep you posted.