Most of my readers will now be aware of one of many quack treatments touted to cure Autism.
Miracle Mineral Solution also called CD is short for Chlorine Dioxide, the water purification agent made from Sodium Chlorite and Citric Acid.
A man called Jim Humble decided to market this cleansing bleaching agent as a cure for all ills, and amazingly people bought into the idea. Humble created the Genesis Two Church and has now written several books having made upwards of £500 million from touting this solution which he proclaims is a miracle.
Kerri Rivera climbed aboard and released her book ‘Healing the symptoms known as Autism’, and proclaimed in it that if you followed the strict diet advised and used CD diluted in doses administered by enemas and mixed into oral solutions that you can heal/recover/ cure your child from the neurological difference that is Autism.
Along with Andreas Kalker who contributed the enema element, his reasoning being that Autism is caused by parasitic worms living in the intestines and bowel of Autistic individuals
They started up a sweeping wave of devastation.
We now have parents and carers using this torturous treatment on their children, openly admitting on social media that these children and vulnerable adults struggle and have to be held down.
That they suffer internal bleeds, nosebleeds, headaches, nausea, seizures, rashes and kidney failure.
They are anally penetrated and degraded by the very people who are meant to protect them, often withholding bowel movements which in turn prompts more enemas.
They watch as their parents then peel their bowel lining from their pooh that’s been stripped from them with an enema of CD and place them on a nappy or plate to proudly display to others on social media.
These children are living a nightmare.
Their sphincter muscles giving way to leakage, their very insides shedding into strips.
They leak mucous and blood long after the enema is finished.
A victim of forced enema administration has been brave enough to speak out of how it felt to be held down by her mother and aunt as a young child and the effects of this abuse till now.
We shall call her ‘Lucy’.
“When I was six I already knew I was different to other children.
I always played with the odd kids because they were the only ones who would play with me. I was picked on all the time. I didn’t even always realise when I was being picked on.
My mum was advised that I was “retarded” and should be in a special school. In those days all children with special needs were sent to these schools. It was considered a waste of time to mainstream them.
Autism was not really known about or discussed and Asperger’s would not be mentioned in the UK for almost 15 years.
One teacher disagreed. I was very good at reading, it turned out, so I was kept in my primary school and my behaviour was just accepted as naughty behaviour because back then you just obeyed and if you didn’t sit still the teacher would slap you! Yes, until 1979, that happened to me!
I had been born with turned out feet and needed a leg cast as a baby, this was attributed to my breech birth. Sometimes when walking to school my leg would lock and my mum had to flag down a passing motorist for a lift! That is something else that wouldn’t be done now.
I also had eczema quite badly and I suffered from constipation. This was probably related to gut issues often linked to autism. I would go on to be diagnosed with Aspergers, a form of autism, but not until 2012 when I was already 41.
My mum and my gran who I lived with, both liked to take laxatives and felt this would help me too. I don’t know why they decided this but I do know the doctor had advise the to give me bran in all my meals which of course made me prone to diarrhoea at times and left my gut very inflamed. This meant that eventually my body’s normal signals became disrupted and I was severely constipated.
I then began to withhold poo without being aware of it. You may have heard that recently a 16 year old girl called Emily Titterington died of this simple and treatable condition. It‘s excruciatingly painful. Desperate to help me, my family was advised I would need to be hospitalised if drastic action was not taken.
This is where things became very frightening. A nurse began to come to my home where I lived with my mum, gran, and two uncles. She was there to give me an enema of soapy water. I was nine years old, I think.
This happened several times and it sounds bizarre now but this is what I remember.
I was naked in the kitchen because we expected a quick result and they didn’t want a mess. There was a toilet down the hall from the kitchen, in the utility area.
The long tube was pushed up my bottom and it hurt so I was struggling. I was held down by my gran, my mum and my aunt who had come to help.
The second time I ran and hid under my bed and they pulled me out and back downstairs. By this time I knew what to be afraid of. The pipe in my bottom hurt very much. It was an adult size enema and I was small for my age, weighing under four stone and under four feet tall.
A pit of soapy water coursed through my insides and I was forced to lie down till it felt it would come out of my mouth. People could see me naked! What if they looked through the window?
Then I would sit on a wooden chair with a vinyl seat. The pains would start! Gripes and cramps would seize my little tummy. A vast rumble like a distant volcano could be heard.
My mum would scream “Get to the toilet!” and like a humiliated dog I would run, the soapy water and impacted poo starting to spray out in an agonising stream as soon as I got to the only toilet I was allowed to use. My mum would then clean my bum to make sure I didn’t get the rest of the house dirty and I would be bathed.
It was painful and afterwards I felt exhausted and sore.
The third time this happened I had a meltdown. I held onto the legs of my bed this time and spread-eagled myself under it.
The nurse was visibly upset. I had given her a crayon drawing of herself and she was very moved. In it she had her watch and special belt on and her uniform. I told her I knew she was trying to help and didn’t mean to hurt me.
Suddenly something changed. Nurse Gray stood up and stopped helping to pull me out from the bed. My mum was digging her nails into my hands to make me let go. I was naked and wriggling on the carpet, burning my skin and kicking them with my legs. My mum was telling me to stop screaming in case the neighbours heard.
Nurse Gray sad “This is child abuse! I can’t help with this anymore! I will ring the doctor. Give her a warm bath and a drink and put her to bed” That was how it all stopped.
My gran told me afterwards she hadn’t wanted to do it but my mum insisted. She stuck the drawing of Nurse Gray inside her cupboard door with sellotape.
After that I don’t remember how they treated the constipation but I didn’t have any more enemas”.
After reading that harrowing account of what this was like for ‘Lucy’ we have to consider this, she was given the enemas three times. It traumatised her psychically and psychologically. Trust was broken and a lack of any understanding as to why this was happening to her left her devastated and feeling betrayed.
It also, as ‘Lucy’ explains ruined intimacy for her in her older years with sexual partners as the inappropriateness of touch and the accompanying painful memories would replay repetitively.
“As an adult I had difficulty with sexual activity, explained ‘Lucy’, “I didn’t want to be touched and found penetration difficult.
Nobody knew yet that I had Aspergers although by now this was available as a diagnosis in the UK. I was treated for anxiety and depression and my partner and I had sex therapy, a kind of talking therapy, but we split up eventually.
Happily I then met a man who although we split up after a year was very considerate and patiently worked to make me enjoy being touched again. I was amazed to find I could enjoy lovemaking almost normally.
I still suffered from a condition called vaginismus which led to complications with giving birth and having examinations and smear tests. This is now resolved but still I get very anxious. For a long time I didn’t feel like a person and I was with a boyfriend who treated me as though I wasn’t very important. Even though I broke up with my daughter’s father I was grateful to him for taking the time to show me I could be a person like other people,” and recalling her subsequent diagnosis ‘Lucy’ fondly recalls,
“This was the start of a long and worthwhile journey of discovery. I was not mad, naughty or broken any more. I was me.”
I find it heart rendering what has happened to ‘Lucy’.
The fact that these were not enemas containing CD should be noted as ones containing that substance would be worse.
The similarities between her then situation as a young autistic child having sensory issues and communicational difficulties being put through such a painful intrusive practice and the children it happens to now are terrifying. These children are subjected to this daily, sometimes hourly.
Constipation and withholding are a common problem for autistic children, the most extreme case seen in the tragic case of Emily Titterington. New Article in The Mirror
The fear of using public toilets and a past experience of a painful bowel movement can make a child of any neurotype scared to attempt going to the toilet, then starts the cycle of withholding so the faeces then becomes impacted making it even harder to go.
“It’s important that people understand that children have a right to their own bodies. If a treatment is medically necessary it should be done at hospital, properly”, states ‘Lucy’,
She closes with these parting words, “Home should be a safe place. Children should have treatments explained properly and not be seen as objects”.
These children have no safe place.
They go to school knowing what awaits them when they get home. Many have been withdrawn from school and are being home schooled to allow free access to enemas and oral dosing without the possible detection from a concerned teacher or parent at the school gates.
Also to be taken into consideration apart from the fact these children are having their genitalia handled daily by their parents is the pain they are going through.
The rashes and seizures are outwardly evident.
The inner turmoil, crushing anxiety and feelings of inferiority are not.
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