A night off the farm

A friend asked me to a banquet. There was this speaker she wanted me to meet. I don’t get invited out much...probably because my repertoire of small talk consists of donkey milk, fecal transplants, and gut microbes. So, I said yes. 

“Don’t cancel!” She said.

“I won’t.” I promised.

That was last week.

The reality of getting off the farm is harder than it seems. It was five minutes past time to leave, and I was in the field in my muck boots with our Vet, makeup sweating off by the second.

But a promise is a promise. So I went. And I even remembered to change out of my poop shoes.

I was late. It was packed. Beautiful people everywhere. Doctors. Legislators. Powerful. Rich. Famous. I don’t belong here. I could make a break for it and be back in muck boots in 35 minutes flat.

My friend grabbed me. Too late. No escape.

Then another friend came up, pushed her way through the crowd. Only, this was a friend I hadn't met yet.

"Oh I'm so glad you're here! My niece is on your donkey milk and she's doing amazing!!!!"

And another, "Oh! We've never met, but we've messaged on FB. Thank you so much!!!"

And, "I'm coming to your Hee Haw for Health! So excited!!!"

Suddenly, I didn't feel awkward anymore. They were still beautiful and powerful and rich and famous. But they were just like me. They spoke my language (well, all but the legislators, I'm not sure what language they speak, but I'm pretty sure it's not Donkey-ese.)

They were just Momma Bears and Papa Bears. Fighting for their babies. Just like me. Better than me. 

Some of them hadn't been able to leave the house in months. And they were here. They wouldn't miss it. Even thought their children are still so sick that they were checking their phones all night...not checking facebook, checking on their babies.

They told me their stories. How they lost their child in an instant. After a routine checkup...their Well Child, was no longer well.

Every table had a centerpiece. But it wasn't flowers. It was a photo of a child. "Collateral Damage" in this war. A war with no recourse. Did you know that? You can't sue them. They are exempt. Protected by the ones we thought were there to protect us. The people.

I've hesitated to write this post. Because I'm chicken. Our business is largely based on social media. And for some reason, this topic is taboo. It splits families. Friends. Schools. Husbands. Wives.

Why? Because we all want what is best for our children. We love our babies, and we'll fight for them with everything we have.

The problem is, some of our babies are different than others. "It's for the immune compromised." They say. 

Interesting. My child is one of those immune compromised kiddos. She's also one that would be most likely to be damaged by the protocol that California, and New York, are forcing on their children. The relatively "small" percentage of children that can't detox properly, who's little bodies don't develop the right antibodies, don't develop the immunity to the disease, but instead attack themselves. Their brains. Their joints. Their lungs. Their skin.***

Like those beautiful babies in the photos on the table, my daughter is one they would throw out, for the "greater good." A necessary, but expendable, consequence.

To the parents in California, and New York, and the other states teetering on the edge...my heart aches for you. I cannot begin to imagine the choices you are being forced to make right now. To have your Religious Freedom and your Medical Freedom taken from you, by the people sworn to protect you....to have to choose between doing what you know is right or fleeing your home for a safe haven.

This isn't what our country was meant to be. This isn't freedom. This isn't right.

But I can tell you, Oklahoma will welcome you. And we'll protect your children, with all our momma bear and papa bear strength. For as long as we can. And judging from the strength of the bears I met that night, we won't go down easily.

Oh, and I almost forgot. I got to meet one of my favorite producers and freedom fighters in this war. I was a bit star struck, so my friend did the talking. She told him all about donkey milk, and how it's helping her baby. And the Health event on our farm. And he didn't check out. His eyes didn't roll back in his head.

He leaned in. "This is happening? In Oklahoma??? I need to know out more about this."

Because he speaks Donkey-ese. He just doesn't know it yet.

Thank you to all of you who put together this amazing evening for OKHPR, and fight for our children on a daily basis. And thank you Del Bigtree, for your work on behalf of our children...our freedom, and our rights.

****Sound familiar? Autism. PANDAS. Juvenile Arthritis. Asthma. Eczema...our bodies aren't supposed to attack themselves. Our immune systems aren't made to kill us. Ask your grandparents how many children were in their school who had any of that litany. Ask them. Not one. But I bet they had the measles...Then ask any parent in that room if they would rather their child had the measles. Just make sure you duck, fast.