Briefly, being a nurse is being one of the first to go to combat in a war, leaving from Trenton on a Hercules plane—not Club Med, not going to a resort but going to war. When we arrived in Saudi Arabia a Scud missile had hit the tarmac, so right away we had to put on our NBCW suits—nuclear, biological, chemical warfare suits—and our gas masks. The stress level was maximum. We had to unload in 20 minutes.
Already...there, I wasn't feeling well. Why? Because, before we even left Canada, we were over-inoculated with over 16 injections of various types that were never properly documented. Protocols were not followed. Over and above, when we arrived there, we got more injections. I guess we'll go into this more later, but my health...never restored.
I got through the war, came back ill, was belittled by my peers—minimized, ridiculed and labelled as a malingerer—and I ended up in a hospital bed at NDMC, very depressed and ill. That's where I realized that the career I was so looking forward to had ended. There was no way I was going to be able to continue as a career officer, and that's where my advocacy work started, from a hospital bed at NDMC.
I'll leave it at that for now. I think I've taken more than enough of my time. I'm ready for questions, with Sean's help.