#walter reed medical center

[lasseling]

Parkinson’s Specialist Met with White House at Least 9 Times Since July 2023

A Parkinson’s disease specialist from Walter Reed Medical Center visited the White House at least nine times in the past year, according to journalist Alex Berenson of Unreported Truths

[suchananewsblog]

Sen. John Fetterman Enters Hospital for Treatment of Clinical Depression

By Cara Murez  HealthDay Reporter FRIDAY, Feb. 17, 2023 (HealthDay News) – Sen. John Fetterman is being treated for clinical depression at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. “While John has experienced depression off and on throughout his life, it only became severe in recent weeks,” Fetterman’s chief of staff Adam Jentleson said in a statement. The Pennsylvania Democrat checked…

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Interesting. Very Interesting. 🤔

"Get your news from people who have a track record of telling the truth, people who do so at significant personal cost like whistleblowers."-Bill Ackman, Democrat Billionaire Hedgefund Manager

"Billionaire hedge fund manager and longtime Democratic Party donor Bill Ackman has blasted the Democrat party and fake news mainstream media outlets for lying and misleading the country about Joe Biden’s health and mental acuity. The White House, mainstream media, and even Biden’s personal physician have continually defended the Biden, insisting he is in good health and fit to serve. DEI White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre lashed out at conservative media outlets for circulating what she described as “cheap fake videos” of Joe Biden looking old, feeble, and senile. Joe Biden and Barack Obama appeared on stage together earlier this month at a fundraiser in Los Angeles, California. After the fundraiser wrapped up, Obama had to grab Joe Biden’s hand to lead him off stage. Biden was frozen. Barack Obama treated Biden like a nursing home patient and walked him off stage. Earlier this year, during a routine physical at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, Biden joked about his health status. When asked about his physical examination and what his doctors had to say, he responded, “They think I look too young,” adding that “Everything’s great” regarding his health. Dr. Kevin O’Connor, responsible for evaluating the 81-year-old President, concluded that despite any perceived physical struggles, Biden is “fit for duty and fully executes all of his responsibilities without any exemptions or accommodations.” Notably, the examination did NOT include a cognitive assessment test. The White House was probably scared of the results, knowing they would doom Biden’s re-election bid for good. However, big-time lefty and longtime Democratic donor Bill Ackman, who previously said he was open to voting for Trump, has publicly blasted the Democratic party and mainstream media for misleading the country about Joe Biden’s mental acuity and health."

@BillAckman

As much as last night was an indictment of the Democratic Party for misleading party members and the country about the mental acuity and health of the president, the media deserve far more derision and scorn. I and others were repeatedly criticized by the media for questioning the competency of the president. Among other false accusations, I was accused of spreading misleading videos which clearly showed Biden’s deterioration.

Do you remember the heavily excerpted and edited @POTUS Biden @60Minutes interview where the interviewer covered for the president by saying he was ‘very tired?’ @60Minutes knew. The @nytimes knew. @CNN knew. @MSNBC knew. Left wing media have had total and complete access to the president, his staff, and his administration. They all knew, but they told you otherwise. They outright lied to you. When Robert Hur, the special counsel who deposed the president, said that the president was not fit to stand trial and therefore chose not to bring charges, the media described him as a tool of the Republican Party and character assassinated him. When the @WSJ recently published a several-thousand-word, carefully researched, front page piece on the president’s mental and physical health, it was described by left wing media as outright propaganda. Now consider who has been feeding you propaganda. A favored technique of some of the most evil leaders in history was to mislead the people by constantly repeating the Big Lie. The Big Lie is so audacious that people accept it as truth because it is repeated so often that how can it be that something so important and material could be an outright falsehood? In this case the Big Lie was our president’s fitness for office, let alone a second term. A media organization is not supposed to be a branch of the Democratic Party. The media have a profound obligation to tell the truth to the American people, particularly about something as critical for the country as the president’s mental and physical health. People very close to me, my closest family and friends, trusted the media on Biden until the @CNN commentators finally owned up to the truth about Biden last night. For months I have been accused by many friends and family of being misled by an @X -based ‘right wing echo chamber.’ The sad reality is that one of our most important institutions, the so-called ‘Fourth Estate,’ fourth only after the clergy, the nobility, and the commoners, has destroyed any remaining credibility it has. Consider how your perception of @POTUS Biden and @realDonaldTrump has been manipulated. The media can no longer save itself. A suggestion. Rely on empirical data as much as possible. Listen to what someone actually said, rather than a headline summary or article about what someone said. Get your news from people who have a track record of telling the truth, people who do so at significant personal cost like whistleblowers. I follow broad constituencies on @X on multiple issues. That has led me closer to the truth. Citizen journalism has been a much more accurate representation of reality. Thank you @elonmusk for saving this platform. It gives us a fighting chance to save our democracy.

[cherrycola27]

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part Moodboard

Specific Chapter Warnings: child birth, pregnancy, breastfeeding

...........................................

Chapter 19: President Dadshaw

Vice President Seresin was sitting peacefully in the audience of the first independent primary debate. He could tell that you and Bradley had some issues before coming here and that whatever they were, they were weighing heavily on Bradley.

The truth is, Bradley and Jake had never done a debate without you. They hardly ever went anywhere without you. You were their anchor.

Jake was listening to Governor Jackson drone on about he plans for foreign policy when he felt his phone vibrate. He noticed it was Jaycee calling. Jake thought it was odd that she would be calling him because he knew that she knew he was at the debate. Worried something had happened, he alerted Dante and the two of the stepped out.

"Hello?" Jake said into his phone as he and Dante found a secluded corner of the lobby.

"Jake! Oh my god! Thank God you picked up!" Jaycee practically shouted.

"Jay, is everything okay?" Jake asked. He could hear the worry in her voice.

"No! Everything is not okay. You need to get Bradley out of that debate now! Y/N's water broke, and we are about to take her to the hospital!" Jaycee panted. Jake could hear her running around in the background.

"Oh my god! Okay, Dante and I will get him, and we will be there ASAP." Jake replied quickly before hanging up the phone.

"Dante. We need the president now. The Y/N is in labor, and they are taking her to Walter Reed right now. We have to meet them there." Jake stated. Dante nodded his head and sprang into action.

He wasted no time sprinting back into the auditorium and rushing to the the stage.

"Sir, we are in the middle of the debate, you cannot be out here right now!" The moderator shouted. Dante ignored him as he told Bradley what was happening, and his eyes went wide.

"Folks, I must apologize, I— there is an emergency, and I cannot continue with this debate. Please forgive me." Bradley spoke as he turned to follow Dante.

"Is there actually an emergency, or are you just afraid that you're losing, Mr. President?" Governor Jackson sneered into his microphone.

Bradley stopped. His shoulders tensed up before he turned on his heels and stormed his way back to the podium.

"For your information, Mr. Jackson, I've just been told that my wife is in labor, and I would very much like to be there for the birth of my children. Is that going to be a problem? If so, you can send a formal complaint to my office, and I can file it in the exact same place where I would file your foreign policy proposal—in the trash." Everyone was dead silently.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. Thank you." Bradley said as he nodded his head and left.

....................

"Jaycee, what if Bradley doesn't make it to the hospital in time? What if he misses their birth. I can't deliver these two without him." You panicked as the SUV the two of you were in zoomed through the streets of D.C.

"Eveything is going to be fine. Jake and Dante are bringing him. Don't worry." Jaycee said as she patted your hand. Another contraction ripped through your body. They were getting closer together now and you were freaking out.

The White House staff had already alerted Walter Reed Medical Center that you were on your way, and they would be ready to take you into an operating room as soon as you got there. Dr. Park had explained that it was standard procedure with twins, just in case things went south, but you had planned to deliver naturally if at all possible.

The dark SUV screeched to a hault in front of the emergency doors. A nurse came with a wheelchair as Jaycee helped you in. You were quickly wheeled in where your vitals were taken, and you changed into a pink hospital gown. Soon, you were hooked to monitors for you and the twins and Dr. Park determined you were five centimeters dilated already.

Jaycee sat with you and held your hand as you went through more contractions. In the hurry to get out the door, you'd left your phone. Jaycee was trying to get ahold of Jake and Bradley but was unsuccessful.

"Jay, any word?" You grunted out. "No, love. I'm sorry." Jaycee responded as she gave your had a squeeze.

"How am I supposed to do this without him? I know we had a fight before he left, but I didn't mean what I said, and I know he didn't either. We are both just stressed. What if he isn't coming?" You cried.

"Hey, we aren't going to think like that. I can only imagine the stress you two are under. Bradley loves you more than anything in this world. He is going to be here for you. No debate is more important than you and these two kiddos to him." Jaycee spoke softly as she wiped a tear from your face.

"And if these two are in such a hurry and he doesn't make it, I'll be right here with you holding your hand. You didn't leave me when I needed you, and I'm damn sure not leaving you now." Jaycee assured you with a teary smile.

You smiled back at her and gritted your teeth through another contraction. You briefly thought about calling your mother and father, but they didn't deserve to be a part of this.

"Can you call Penny and Maverick? Bradley would want them to be here." You asked Jaycee. They had flown in earlier this week ahead of your induction. You and Bradley had already decided that they would be the grandparents your children needed and deserved.

Jaycee nodded her head and dialed him. Maverick picked up on the first ring and immediately told Jaycee that he and Penny would be there soon.

................

"Dante! Why aren't we moving?" Bradley shouted from the backseat of his car. His leg bounced nervously against the floorboard.

"Sir, traffic has stopped. It looks like there is an accident up ahead." Dante said.

"How far away are we from Walter Reed?" Bradley asked.

"About ten blocks, sir." Dante informs him. "I'm sure things will get moving soon. My wife was in labor for quite a while with our first one. You shouldn't have anything to worry about." Dante tried to reassure Bradley, who was looking worse for wear.

"Oh shit!" Jake exclaimed when he took his phone out of his pocket. He'd never turned the ringer up, and he had several missed calls and texts from Jaycee. He also had one from Mav and Penny informing him they were on their way.

He quickly called Jaycee, who informed him that you were settled in a room, and apparently, seven centimeters dilated.

He passed the information on to Bradley, and that seemed to only make things worse. "Her labor is progressing pretty fast." Dante remarked. He was trying to keep his cool, but a sweat had broken out across his brow. "Sir, I'm trying, I really am, but we are at a standstill. Jamison, are you picking up any chatter that this might clear soon?" Dante asked his partner.

"Negative, Dante. It's a pile-up. The traffic reports are saying it might take hours to clear." Jamison replied.

Bradley let out an exasperated sigh. He didn't have hours. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew how to get to Walter Reed from here, and ten blocks really wasn't that far. Surely he could get there before traffic would clear.

So, he decided on a little less thinking and a little more doing. Before anyone could talk him out of it, Bradley ripped off his purple tie, tore off his suit jacket, and jumped out of the car.

"Rooster! What the fuck are you doing man?" Jake yelled as he and Dante jumped out after him.

"Not thinking! I have to be there for her! I'm not missing this!" Bradley yelled behind him as he started running down the sidewalk in the direction of the hospital as fast as his sleek dress shoes would take him.

Dante shrugged and looked at Jake and Jamison. "Well, aren't you going to follow him?" Dante asked as he looked at his partner. "Why me?" Jamison asked with a befuddled look.

"You're a decade younger than me and have better knees. We can't just let the president run through Maryland by himself. Hop to it." Dante instructed. Jamison shook his head before taking off after Bradley.

Bradley's feet came down hard on the sidewalk. He vaguely heard Jamsion yelling behind him, asking him to slow down, but he wouldn't. He couldn't. Bradley was sure that people in the stopped cars were wondering why the president of the United States was running down the street in the late evening, and he knew there would probably be pictures and videos on social media and in the news that you would inevitably scold him for, but he didn't care.

He'd left you on such a sour note, and now he could potentially miss the birth of his children.

He rounded another block, running right in front of a cab and past a group of middle-aged women and their dogs. He hurdled over a curb before making another turn. Soon, the front of the hospital was in sight.

His legs were burning, his lungs were on fire, and his feet felt like bricks, but he didn't slow down. He ran through the parking lot straight into the lobby. He barreled to a stop right in front of the nurses station and information desk.

"My—I—she—we—where?" Bradley panted out. His hands were on his knees, and his face was flushed as he tried to talk to the poor, startled young woman at the desk. She sat there unsure how to respond. Instead, she silently got up and led Bradley down the hall.

She stopped outside an unmarked wooden door. Bradley could hear your groans of pain as he stood outside. She knocked on the door. It opened, and Bradley wqs quickly let inside.

"Sweetheart!" He exclaimed as soon as he came in. Your eyes darted over to him. "Bradley!" You cried as soon as you saw him.

He tried to rush towards you, but a nurse quickly stopped him. "Mr. President. This is technically an operating room. I'll need you to change and scrub up, just in case They told him. Bradley nodded and was led to a small area where the necessary garb he had to wear was waiting.

Once he was changed and had new shoes, courtesy of the hospital, because his fell apart the moment he stepped out of them, Bradley was by your side.

"I'm here, Sweetheart. I'm right here. And I'm so sorry about earlier." He sighed as he pushed some hair out of your face. Jaycee, now that Bradley had arrived, left to go wait for everyone else in the lobby.

"I'm sorry too. It's just so hard for me to turn off that part of my brain." You told him. "I'm so glad you're here. I hate that you had to leave the debate." You tell him.

"It's fine." He replies. "Why—" You begin just as another contraction hits, and you squeeze his hand. "Why are you so sweaty?" You finish. "Got stuck in traffic. Ran like ten blocks to get here, and my feet are killing me, but it's fine." Bradley half laughs.

"Oh, your feet hurt? Your poor thing." You tell him sarcastically. He opens his mouth to say something. But you lean forward and let out a string of curses as the most powerful contraction of the night rages though you.

"Mrs. Bradshaw, you're ten centimeters. You can push whenever you're ready." Dr. Park informs you. You have Bradley help you lean up and scoot closer to the edge of the bed.

"Bradley, I need you to promise me something." You tell him.

"What, Sweetheart?" He asks you. "If it comes down to it. If it's me or them—" you say.

"No." He cuts you off. "We aren't having this conversation because that's not going to happen." Bradley tells you in his most serious tone. He's read the books and seen the statistics just like you have. He doesn't want to think about anything bad happening because it's not. Everything is going to be fine.

"Bradley, please." You let out a tearful cry. "No, Y/N. I'm leaving the hospital with one wife and two babies. That's final." Bradley states. He prays that by speaking it into existence, it will be true. He doesn't want to think about any other outcomes. He doesn't want to be put in a position where he has to choose.

Bradley knows you'd pick the lives of your children over your own, and he knows you would want him to do the same, but deep down, Bradley was selfish. You could have other children, he couldn't have another you. And if it came down to it, he doesn't know if he would be strong enough to let you go.

He shakes the thought from his head, and you bear down. He wipes your brow and praises you while you are crushing his hand and cursing his name.

"You'd better get me the best damn push present, Bradley. I'm serious because I'm doing twice the work!" You bark out as you push.

"And baby number one is here! It's a girl!" Dr. Park exclaims as she holds up your daughter. Your anger fades into happiness as she is laid on your chest. "Hi, baby girl, welcome to the world." You say. Bradley is speechless as he looks at her in awe. Dr. Park gives the two of you a moment before asking Bradley to cut the cord. You only get a few minutes with your baby girl before it's time for her brother to make his debute.

Baby number two makes a much quicker entrance into the world. Just like his sister, he's placed on your chest for you to admire, and Bradley to be awe struck by.

After both of them are cleaned up and assessed, Dr. Park tells you they both seem to be in good health but wants all three of you to stay for a few days just to be sure. Later that night, you and Bradley are both too tired to sleep. You're both standing over the bassinets as you watch the two little lives you've created sleep peaceful side by side. You and the staff had tried to put them down separately, but they both cried until they were placed next to each other.

"You'd think they'd want their own space after sharing my womb for so long." You joked.

"Maybe this means they'll always be close." Bradley sighed as he placed a kiss to your temple. "You did so good, honey. They're perfect." Bradley praises you.

You smile at each other and enjoy the quiet. But the moment is soon interrupted, but the soft cry of your daughter.

"Oh no. Are you okay, Elle? You ask her as you carefully lift her up, trying not to disturb her brother. She opens her eyes and looks up at you. She blinks slowly before cooing softly. You know she's only a few hours old, but you can already tell she has your eyes and your nose. The dusting of hair on her head is almost the same color as yours.

Soon, your son, who you can already tell, will be his father's twin stirs. It's like he can sense his sister is missing. Bradley picks him up and gently rocks him. "It's okay, Andy. Elle is right here with Mommy. Daddy's got you, buddy." Bradley whispers to him.

After you feed both of them, they fall into a deep sleep. Bradley helps you into your bed before stretching out onto the roll away that was brought for him. Tomorrow, you'll let Maverick and Penny and Jake and Jaycee meet the twins. But tonight, you enjoy the moment where it is just the four of you.

..............

The morning light streamed into your hospital room earlier than you would have liked. You sat up looking for Bradley only to find him shirtless in an oversized chair with the twins on his chests and a blanket covering each of them.

"I gave them each a bottle, and we have just been hanging out. I know you said you wanted to try breastfeeding, but I didn't want to wake you." Bradley whispered to you from across the room.

"It's fine. Fed is best. Think you can handle it for a little bit longer? The lactation nurse said she would be here early this morning to show me the right way to use my pump and to help with latching." You told him. Bradley nodded and continued to live his best dad life as he quietly sang and whispered to the twins.

After a lesson in breastfeeding and pumping, you tried and were able to Andy and Elle to latch. You were able to pump a small amount, and the nurse reassured you that your supply would increase. You took it in stride, knowing you were going to try your best, but you wouldn't feel like a failure if you ended up having to formula feed.

Around lunch, you arranged for Maverick and Penny to come and visit, and Jake and Jaycee would come that evening.

Mav and Penny were speechless when they came into the room. You carefully scooped up your daughter and handed her to Penny once she had sat down. She and Mav looked at her and sighed. "She's beautiful. What's her name?" Penny asked.

"Her name is Eleanora Carole Bradshaw." You beamed at them. "And this is Andrew Nicholas Bradshaw." Bradley said as he gentle put your son in Pete's arms. "But for now, they are Andy and Elle." Bradley smiled. "Andy and Elle. How perfect." Maverick said with a few tears in his eyes.

"Your parents would be so proud." He told Bradley. "I know." Bradley smiled.

"What about your parents Y/N? Don't they want to meet their grandchildren?" Penny asked you.

"As far as I'm concerned, you two are the only grandparents they need. Maybe down the road, we can work something out, but for now, it's Grandpa Mav and Grandma Penny all the way." You assured her.

After a wonderful visit with their grandchildren, Pete and Penny left to let you rest before Jake and Jaycee came.

"So, who is older?" Jaycee asked. You ask she rocked Andy in her arms. "Elle is by thirteen minutes." You told her. "She just couldn't wait to get into the world to meet her Uncle Jake, huh?" Jake cooed as he held Elle. You and Jaycee both knew he was already wrapped around her finger, which was fine because Andy had already stolen Jaycee's heart.

"We have a question." Bradley blurted out.

"What?" Jake and Jaycee asked in unison.

"We want to know if you two would be their godparents?" Bradley asked them.

"Of course!" They both cheered. "How could we say no to these two?!" Jaycee asked as she booped Andy's nose.

"Five bucks says they are expecting less than a year after they get married." You whispered to Bradley as you watched Jake and Jaycee interact with your children. "Twenty bucks says that it's a honeymoon baby." Bradley counters.

"You're on." You snort as the two of you shake.

Soon, the evening wears away, and it's just the four of you again. News of your labor and delivery has spread. There are also several stories with photos and videos of Bradley racing to the hospital on foot. The media is also dragging Gary Jackson after his comment at the debate. A few organizations who support Bradley are already pushing the tagline "Put Governor Jackson where he belongs, in the trash!" You want to be mad at Bradley for that comment, but it's just so funny that you can't.

...................

The twins are exactly a month old when you and Bradley release the first official photo of them.

It's a beautiful family portrait of you and Bradley each sitting in a rocking chair the nursery in the White House. Bradley is dressed in a collared shirt with a sweater pulled over it with some khaki pants and a new pair of loafers. You're in a warm sweater dress and a pair of leggings and some boots. The twins are dressing in matching onsies and caps with their names stitched on them. You're hold Elle, and Bradley is holding Andy.

The caption reads:" The President and First Lady are excited to share the first official photo of the newest additions to their family. Eleanora Carole Bradshaw and Andrew Nicholas Bradshaw arrived on Thursday, January 27th, 2028. President and Mrs. Bradshaw are overjoyed at the love and support the nation as shown them as they have been adjusting to parenthood."

Parenthood had certainly been an adjustment for the two of you. You both knew that you would have a lot to learn, but you'd learn it together.

......................

One chapter left, guys!

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky @multifandomlover4life @princess76179

[coughloop]

Joe Biden reportedly checked into the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center three hours ago due to an undisclosed medical issue. Sources from inside the facility allege he was last seen wandering the hallways, whimpering and sniffling to all the doctors that he "hurt his ear bad" and "need a bandaid and a lollipop too".

[thebadgerclan]

Shots Fired

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox

Summary: BREAKING NEWS: White House Reports That First Son, Alex Claremont-Diaz, Has Been Shot

CONTENT WARNING: This deals with/describes shootings/gunshot wounds. Nothing is explicitly described, but proceed with caution if this could be triggering to you

A/N: I'm writing part 2 to this as we speak

Insomnia was nothing new for Henry, though after having a few blissfully restful nights in Alex’s arms, sleep was more elusive.  The Prince sighed, rolling onto his side.  The alarm clock read 11:25 PM, and normally, Henry would drag himself to the kitchen and make himself a cup of tea, maybe crack open his book, try to distract himself from the sleep that wouldn’t come.  But something in him was telling him to turn the T.V. on.  So Henry did, and he nearly vomited when he processed what was on the screen.

BREAKING NEWS: ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ SHOT.  Henry barely managed to keep his late night snack of Jaffa Cakes down as he cranked the volume up, listening intently to the newscaster.  “We are just receiving confirmation from Washington that Alex Claremont-Diaz, son of President Ellen Claremont, has been shot amidst gunfire in Georgetown.  Information is still coming in, but we can confirm that Mr. Claremont-Diaz was life-flighted to Walter Reed Medical Center, and…”

Henry was no longer listening.  He was throwing clothes into a bag, not bothering to fold them, barely looking at what he was packing.  Then, his phone started buzzing.  Texts from Bea, June, Pez, and Nora, but none from the one person he desperately needed to hear from.  Henry pulled his charger from the wall and shoved it in his bag, zipped it shut, and threw it over his shoulder before he was running.

Shaan met him halfway down the hall.  “I need to get to–”  “I know, sir,” the equerry interrupted, turning on his heel, now jogging alongside the Prince.  “Ms. Bankston phoned.  There’s a car waiting to take you to Heathrow.”  Henry nodded, quickening his pace, nearly diving into the waiting car.  The ride to the airport was torturously long, and the flight was unbearable.  All Henry wanted was to see Alex, to touch Alex, to know that Alex was alive.  The headlines kept rolling in, none of them confirming anything, and the Prince was beginning to spiral.

Ellen’s number was in his contacts, but she hadn’t called.  Nor had June or Nora.  Henry didn’t blame them, of course, their attention was likely on Alex.  But he was going half mad with worry and speculation.  Eventually, Shaan pressed Henry’s emergency medication into his palm–pills he seldom had to take, pills he needed when anxiety and panic overwhelmed him–and he took them with no questions, dropping into a dreamless sleep soon after.

***

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.  Alex had set out with the intention of scoping out a new bookstore for when Henry came to visit, grabbing some lunch, and heading back to the Residence.  Instead, he found himself lying on the pavement, a bullet wound on his lower abdomen, screams and pops filling his ears.  Alex was by no means a medical professional, but he knew when he lifted his head that that was far too much blood.

Amy was at his side immediately, her gun drawn.  Cash was there too, tearing open a package of what looked like gauze.  “Sorry kid,” he said.  “This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”  He then began packing the wound, and Alex screamed, stars popping before his eyes.  Then the tears came, both from pain and from fear.  Would he see his mom again?  June?  Henry?  Alex brought a shaky hand to his face, seeing Henry’s signet ring there, flecked with blood.  “Baby,” he whispered, kissing the ring.  “I love you.  Henry…”  Everything went black.

***

There was another car waiting when Henry landed at Ronald Reagan.  The Prince was barely sitting down, Shaan climbing into the other seat, when he barked an order, one he had no real business giving.  “Drive.”  As the car pulled out of the airport, it was flanked by five other vehicles, all black, red and blue lights flashing.  At Henry’s questioning look, Shaan spoke.  “Extra security, sir,” he said.  “We cannot take any risks.”

Henry was anxious for the entire drive.  At his request, Shaan had confiscated his phone, cutting him off from any and all communications.  He had texted Bea, though, telling her he was going to D.C. and that he would be in touch.  “Any word?” he asked, and the equerry shook his head.  “I know as much as you, sir.”  Finally, the motorcade pulled up to Walter Reed, and Henry almost fell in his haste to get out of the car.

Four Secret Service agents were waiting at the entrance, as was Zahra, who looked flighty and anxious and very unlike her usual self.  “Thank God you got here safely,” she said, offering Henry a soft smile before turning and entering the hospital.  She led him to an elevator, which after inputting a passcode, took them up to the President’s private wing.

Ellen was pacing back and forth, June was staring blankly out a window, Oscar was talking to someone on the phone, and Leo was watching his wife, looking helpless.  When Henry appeared, Ellen startled before pulling the Prince into her arms, holding him like her life depended on it.  “Oh darling,” she said, and Henry broke.  Choking, ugly sobs left his mouth, and his knees gave out. Ellen maintained her grip on him, sinking to the ground with him.

“I know, baby, I know,” the President soothed, and Henry burrowed into her arms.  After several minutes, Henry calmed, sniffling and wiping his eyes.  “Is he…”  “He’s in surgery, darlin’,” she responded.  “Has been for hours.  Doctors have been out a few times, so far he’s stable.”  Henry nodded, trying to process everything.  “W-what happened?”  Ellen shrugged.  “We don’t quite know.  They don’t think Alex was targeted, which is something…”

Henry almost laughed.  His boyfriend was lying on an operating table with a gunshot wound, he had nearly died.  What did it matter if he was the target or not?  But he only nodded.  “Have you eaten, Henry?”  The Prince shook his head.  “Do you want anything?”  Another shake of his head.  “Alright.”  They fell silent, and after several minutes, Henry extricated himself from Ellen’s embrace, moving to sit next to June.

She said nothing, but took Henry’s hand, squeezing hard.  Henry squeezed back, resting his head against the window.  Alex would be alright, he had to be alright.  He laid a hand on his chest, feeling the chain and key there, tears pricking at his eyes.  “My love,” he whispered.  “Alex…”  Maybe he dozed off, maybe he didn’t, but when a doctor walked in, Henry bolted upright, his heart in his throat.

“Madame President, I’m Dr. Lewis,” she said.  “I was the attending surgeon on Alex’s case.”  Ellen nodded, her arms crossed over her chest.  Dr. Lewis saw Henry, and her eyes widened slightly, but she pressed on.  “I am pleased to tell you that Alex is stable and out of surgery.”  Ellen let out a sob, and Henry let out a shuddering breath, gripping June’s hand even tighter.

“He lost a substantial amount of blood, but we have a transfusion running and we’ll be monitoring his numbers.”  “How bad was the injury?” Ellen asked, worrying her lip between her teeth.  “The bullet struck Alex’s right kidney.  Now, the kidneys are very vascular organs, which accounts for his blood loss.  We were able to remove the bullet and attempt to reconstruct the kidney, but there are no promises on that front.  The good news is that we all have two kidneys, and you only need one to survive.  Of course, we’ll be keeping a close eye on Alex’s renal functions and other things like his blood pressure, but in my professional opinion, he is out of the woods.”

Ellen surged forward and shook Dr. Lewis’ hand, tears in her eyes.  “Thank you, doctor,” she said.  “Thank you so much.”  “It’s my pleasure, Madame President.  He’s still asleep, but he should be awake soon, if you’d like to see him.”  Ellen nodded, looking back at Henry.  “You comin’, Sugar?”  It took a moment for Henry to realize she was talking to him, and he nodded, slowly getting to his feet.  Side by side, the President of the United States and the Prince of England made their way to Alex’s hospital room, equal parts nerves and excitement filling their minds.

[reality-detective]

I say bullshit... Putin's General says this clown is dead along with a high ranking Ukrainian General. That's why he disappeared the first time without the fake Biden administration knowing anything. 🤔

[tomorrowusa]

Trump White House staffers were apparently big pill poppers. And we're not talking about generic ibuprofen or Vitamin C.

The White House has its own pharmacy. It's run by the military because the president happens to be commander-in-chief of the armed forces. But during the Trump administration things went awry – as you might expect.

For years, the White House Medical Unit, run by the White House Military Office, provided the full scope of pharmaceutical services to senior officials and staff—it stored, inventoried, prescribed, dispensed, and disposed of prescription medications, including opioids and sleep medications. However, it was not staffed by a licensed pharmacist or pharmacy support staff, nor was it credentialed by any outside agency. The operations of this pseudo-pharmacy went as well as one might expect, according to the DoD OIG's alarming investigation report. The investigation was prompted by complaints in May 2018 alleging that an unnamed "senior military medical officer" was engaged in "improper medical practices." [ ... ] Provigil is a drug that treats excessive tiredness and is typically used for patients with narcolepsy, sleep apnea, and other sleep disorders. Brand-name Provigil is 55 times more expensive than the generic equivalent. Between 2017 and 2019, the White House pharmacy spent an estimated $98,000 for Provigil. In that same timeframe, it also spent an estimated $46,500 for Ambien, a prescription sedative, which is 174 times more expensive than the generic equivalent. Even further, the White House Medical Unit spent an additional $100,000 above generic drug cost by having Walter Reed National Military Medical Center fill brand-name prescriptions.

While they were plotting to repeal Obamacare for millions of Americans, Trump staffers were getting brand name stimulants and sedatives cheap and sticking US taxpayers with the bill.

They were handing out baggies of drugs to staffers going on trips overseas.

The staffer told OIG investigators that ahead of overseas trips, the staff would prepare packets of controlled medications to be handed out to White House staff. "And those would typically be Ambien or Provigil and typically both, right. So we would normally make these packets of Ambien and Provigil, and a lot of times they’d be in like five tablets in a zip‑lock bag. And so traditionally, too, we would hand these out. ... But a lot of times the senior staff would come by or their staff representatives... would come by the residence clinic to pick it up. And it was very much a, 'hey, I’m here to pick this up for Ms. X.' And the expectation was we just go ahead and pass it out."

Trump wanted to send the US military into Mexico to go after drug kingpins. But he was running his own out of control drug dispensing operation financed by tax money.

The Department of Defense Inspector General's report detailed how Schedule II drugs were poorly inventoried and monitored. (emphasis added)

The Code of Federal Regulations requires that registered pharmacies maintain inventories and records of Schedule II controlled substances separately from all other pharmacy records.16 In our site visit to the EEOB Clinic, we concluded that the clinic maintained the controlled substance inventory records in a binder on hand‑written paper logs, stored in the EEOB clinic’s medication dispensing area. The inventory records showed that White House Medical Unit stocked four different types of Schedule II opioid pain medications (fentanyl, hydrocodone, morphine, and oxycodone), as well as medications from Schedules III through V, such as stimulants and sedatives. However, White House Medical Unit kept the records for its Schedule II medications in the EEOB’s inventory binder together with records for all other controlled medications and not maintained separately as required by the CFR.

So the Trump White House pharmacy also included opioids which were not properly kept track of. The Trump drug mill was a microcosm for his administration as a whole.

[maxbegone]

of hubris and fowl

→ for @stereopticons // based on this post

"The bird fucking bit me," Alex tells her before she can get a word out. June blinks. "What?" "And I'm bleeding." "What?" She repeats. Alex just holds up his hand, the bundle of tissues now somewhat sticking to his wound. "Alex," she starts, exasperated, "what the actual fuck?" On the evening of Wednesday, November 27th, 2019, the First Son of the United States, Alexander Claremont-Diaz, sustained minor injuries after contact with a wild turkey. Out of abundance of caution, Mr. Claremont-Diaz was transported to Walter Reed Medical Center for evaluation and treatment, as is protocol after contact with a wild animal. Or, Alex is dramatic, (definitely) antagonizes a turkey, and everyone thinks he's overreacting.

[paisholotus]

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮

Narrative

"What's the Army doing here? What the hell is going on?" Derek asked, walking into the office.

"Guys, this is Dr. Linda Kimura, Chief of special pathogens, with the CDC." Hotch introduced them to the doctor.

"Hello." The group said.

"Hello. I'm sorry to meet under these circumstances." Dr. Linda said, sadly.

"What circumstances? We need to get started." Spencer said.

"Last night, 25 people checked into emergency rooms, in and around, Annapolis." The doctor informed them.

"They were all at the same. Park after 2 PM. yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It's now just past 7 AM the next day. We have 12 dead." JJ told them.

"Lung failure and black lesions." Derek read from off the report.

"Anthrax?" Emily asked.

"Anthrax doesn't kill this fast." Spencer said.

"This strain does." Dr. Linda said.

"What are we doing about potential mass targets..." JJ asked.

"airports, malls, trains?" Derek pointed out.

"There's a media blackout. We're not telling the public?" Emily asked.

"We'd have a mass exodus." Hotch said.

"The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack." Spencer pointed out.

"Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples." Derek said.

"Or if they wanted attention and didn't get it, they might attack again." Hotch said.

"Doesn't the public have the right to know that?" Emily questioned.

"If there is another attack,there's no way we'll be able to keep it quiet. Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can." Hotch said.

"What do we know about this strain?" Spencer asked.

"The spores are weaponized, reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs...odorless and invisible. A sophisticated strain. Only a scientist would know how to do that." Dr. Linda said.

The group looked around worried of what to do as they calmly listened to the doctor.

"These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours. It's not the lesions I'm worried about. It's the lungs. We don't know how to combat the toxins once they're inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all. The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed Hospital. Our offices will become a small command center. We'll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick." Dr. Linda told them.

"Attorney General Washington is coming here?" Rossi asked Hotch.

"Yes, they don't want this to become a public issue. The president has already been notified." He said, looking all the group.

"Determining what strain this is will help inform who's responsible." Dr. Linda said.

"My team is in charge of treating all victims. Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital. Interview the victims. Morgan and Prentiss, there's a HAZMAT team that will accompany you to the crime scene. There's Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go." Hotch told his group.

"We don't know if it's effective against this strain, but it's something." Dr. Linda told them.

"This is really happening?" Derek asked, but mainly to himself, looking down at the reports of people being hospitalized.

"We knew this could happen. We've done our homework. We've prepared for this.This is it." Hotch told them.

They raised the little cups up with the pills in them, and took them.

"May you live 100 years." Rossi said, taking his pills.

-Time Skip-

"Office phones and emails are being monitored." JJ said.

"Yeah, they're trying to protect the media blackout. Files?" Spencer asked.

"Uh, yeah, right here." JJ pointed to the end of the table.

"Thanks. I want to see what kind of medical treatment the victims received before I head to the hospital." Spencer said, reading over the files.

"Why do you think the suspect in 2001 stopped sending the letters?" JJ asked, Spencer, looking at the board with possible suspects.

"I have no idea, but if he hadn't, it would have been much worse. The worst part was not knowing when it was gonna be over. It was feeling safe opening mail again." He said, lowly.

"5 people died. Many more exposed and sickened, including a baby who was admitted to the hospital after lesions appeared." JJ said, sadly.

"Agent Jareau." One of the soldiers came into the room, standing by the door.

"Uh, call me when they get through security. Thanks." JJ said, handing up the phone.

"The General's here." He told them.

"Is there bad blood with her?" Spencer asked, the soldier.

"She was very critical of the way the '01 Amerithrax investigation was handled." He told, them.

"Because of what happened with Dr. Hatfill?" JJ asked.

"Among other things. And this is the list of victims you asked for." He said, handing JJ and Spencer the files.

"No high-profile jobs?" Spencer asked.

"No. Just ordinary people frolicking in the park." The soldier said.

"Any word from the CIA?" JJ asked him.

"They said there are a few overseas terrorist groups with funding and capability. They're working international. We've got domestic. Also the members of the BJS are going to accompany the General." He said.

Spencer and JJ stopped walking looking at him surprised. The soldier stopped and nodded his head for them to keep walking.

"Jesus..." JJ trailed off, looking back down at the papers.

"We need to look at anyone who could profit from this. People who have patents on anthrax vaccines." JJ said.

"Garcia." Spencer called, through the phone.

"Yes, sir" She answered.

"And add to your list anyone with access to weaponized spores...universities, scholars working in bioweapons research. Employees of labs who keep germ collections." He told her.

"Okay, call back in a few." She said, handing up.

"Right in here, Ma'am." The Soldiers said, leading Aleza through the door.

"Attorney General, Aleza Washington. This is Agent Hotchner, SSA David Rossi, Dr. Spencer Reid, and Agent Jennifer Jareau." The soldier said, introducing the group.

"Pleasure to meet you all. But I would like to get the formalities out the way, so someone can tell me what the hell is going on, before I have national panic on my hands." She said, folding her arms.

"My scientists are decoding the strain.The additives used to strengthen the bacterial capsules do not exist at our research labs." Dr. Linda said.

"Are there any other labs using these substances?" She asked, her.

"No." Dr. Linda said, lowly.

"I'd like a list of all the scientists in your anthrax program." She said, walking towards the doctor.

"I just said we don't use those additives." Dr. Linda said, raising her eyebrows.

Aleza gave her a hard glare, "ma'am, we can rule out your lab samples, but not your people." She said, harshly. "We're looking at someone who has the ability to manipulate and weaponize anthrax. Your scientists make that cut." She said, continuing to glare at the doctor, towering over her.

"Now, we all know what happened the last time your team looked into my people. Ma'am, our team officially ruled out Dr. Hatfill. I'm sorry if Justice didn't listen to us." The doctor said, not backing down.

"but the profile was accurate. It happened in your labs. Now the same thing is happening again in one of your labs, you're going to look me in the eyes and tell me that's a coincidence? I hope you don't think I got this job, by being stupid." Aleza said, squinting at the doctor.

"I'll get you your list. General." Hotch told her.

She nodded still glaring at the doctor then turned around and walked out.

-Time Skip-

"Team, This Sariya Washington, she is with the BJS. Hotch introduced them to her.

"Hi, nice to meet y'all. But I We've tracked Chad Brown. He's going to the train station." She said, showing directions on her laptop.

"Then that's where we're going. Thanks for your help." She nodded, walking back out the door.

"No gas masks. Repeat, no gas masks. Rush hour crowd sees anyone in a mask, here's gonna be a stampede. Morgan, I want you to stay above ground and help the crowds. I'm gonna go down by myself." Hotch told them.

"Not a chance, Hotch." Derek said, shaking his head.

"Morgan, we're a man down. If the area's infected, we can't risk losing both of us as well." Hotch, said frowning.

"We are a team. We're gonna go down as a team." Derek told him, determined.

"We need to clear the station." JJ said, putting on her vest.

"I've got it. OK, I need everybody to listen up. I am FBI. I need you to exit the train now." Hotch yelled.

"What's happening? Oh, my God." A woman yelled, panicked.

"Please, everyone, through this far door only." Emily said, ushering people through the door.

"Chad Brown, don't move!" Derek yelled.

"Don't come any closer!" He yelled, backing up.

"Chad, put the bag down." Emily said, trying to

get the man to do what they said.

"Far door. Let's go." Derek said, walking closer.

"I can kill everybody here!" Chad, screamed, clutching the bag.

"And I will kill you before you do." Hotch said, closing in.

"No! No! Weapons down." Aleza said, walking towards the situation.

"General, what are you doing?" Hotch asked, looking between the General and Chad.

"This is an order from the President. The US Army is taking this man into custody." She said, grabbing Chad.

"General, the Army has no authority here." Hotch said.

"Agent! YOU DO NOT TELL ME WHERE I HAVE AUTHORITY! THIS MAN IS COMING WITH ME He helped create this strain. He's the only one who can show us how it was made." She yelled, at Hotch.

"Ma'am, he is a danger to the country." Emily said, pleading.

"He is an asset to this country! And by Presidential order, I'm taking him in." Aleza said, turning around to look at Chad.

"Sir, please come with me." She asked, him.

"Where?" He asked, squinting his eye's.

"Fort Detrick, sir." Aleza said, with a smile.

"You want me to go to Fort Detrick?" Chad asked, uncertain.

Aleza nodded, "We need you, sir, please." Aleza pretended to plead the man.

"I helped create this. You have to name it after me!" He said, with hopeful eyes.

Aleza smiled, nodding. "Of course. Standard practice. Now, hand me the bag so we can go on our way." She said, slowly sticking out her hand. Chad looked at her hand, then back into her eyes and smiled, handing the bag to her.

"Are there any other samples present?" She asked, cautiously.

"No." He said, shaking his head.

"Move in." She said, to her soldiers. Then looked back at Chad with a glare.

"You should have understood this was never going to go your way." She said, as the soldiers roughly cuffed Chad and pulled him away.

"What are you doing?!" Chad yelled.

"General!"....

"General!....I can help recreate this for you!" He yelled, before getting put into the police car.

Aleza handed her bag to one of the soldiers, as they put it in a confinement box, and taking it to one of the cars.

"Well, you did good work, General." Said, Prentiss. Aleza gave her a small smile, "I know. You Agents did a good job, thank you for your hard work." She said, nodding at them and walking away.

-Time Skip-

"eating Jell-O?" Spencer asked, groggily.

"Hey, kid." Derek said, softly.

"Hey, Doc. Look who's back." Derek said, towards the doctor.

"Is there any more Jell-O?" Spencer asked, trying to sit up.

"Hey. Not so fast." Derek said, pushing Spencer back lightly.

"What happened?" Spencer asked, leaning back onto the bed.

"You're gonna be all right, kid. We caught him, and him and the Virus are getting locked up forever." Derek said, smiling at Spencer.

"Dr. Reid, you have visitors." The nurse said, opening the door for them to come in.

Aleza and Sariya came in holding flowers and and a present wrapped in wrapping paper. Spencer felt like his breath was caught in his throat, when he saw Aleza earlier today, a part of him was excited despite Aleza's Intimidating nature. Because he was wondering if Sariya was close by.

He hasn't seen Sariya since they were kids, he remembered the pain he felt when his best friend told him she was moving away for awhile, that awhile turned to years. He would check on her from time to time through social media, but gave up due to the fact, that he thought she had moved on from him. Sariya was his first everything. His best friend, his protector, his first love. And here she was standing in front of him.

"I, heard Spencer Reid was in the hospital, so we decided to stop by and check on him." Aleza said, holding the flowers.

"Oh, that was very nice of you, General." Penelope said, taking the flowers and placing them beside the bed.

Sariya walked towards the bed, standing beside Spencer, smiling down at him. Spencer felt his skin get hot, as he stared up at her, as if she hung up the stars.

"Hey, Moon, long time, no see." She said, sitting beside his bed.

Derek looked at Penelope, to Aleza, then back to Spencer.

"I'm happy you're okay, don't know what I'll do if something happened to you." She said, rubbing the side of his face.

Aleza cleared her throat and tapped her watch telling her they had to go. Sariya rolled her eyes and stood up.

"OK, I have to go. But I wanted to give you this." She said, handing him the wrapped present. "Take care of yourself, Moon. See you around." She said, kissing the top of his head.

They waved bye to everyone and walked out the room. Derek then looked at Spencer surprised and smiled, hitting Spencer on his shoulder.

"Kid, when were you going to tell us, you have a girlfriend?" Derek asked.

Spencer smiled and opened the present. His eye's watered and clutched the book to his chest smiling.

[thornescratch]

From first introducing himself to the team dog back in 2021, Nic Dowd came full circle and helped award Biscuit with the honorary title of U.S. Marine Corps Corporal as Biscuit graduated and was formally placed as a Facility Dog at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center.

[suchananewsblog]

Sen. John Fetterman Enters Hospital for Treatment of Clinical Depression

By Cara Murez  HealthDay Reporter FRIDAY, Feb. 17, 2023 (HealthDay News) – Sen. John Fetterman is being treated for clinical depression at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. “While John has experienced depression off and on throughout his life, it only became severe in recent weeks,” Fetterman’s chief of staff Adam Jentleson said in a statement. The Pennsylvania Democrat checked…

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

In January, President Biden's personal physician met with Walter Reed's Parkinson's disease specialist, Dr Cannard and cardiologist, Dr Atwood.

Top Washington D.C. neurologist had a meeting with President Biden’s personal doctor at the White House earlier this year, visitor logs reviewed by The Post show.

Dr. Kevin Cannard, a Parkinson’s disease expert at Walter Reed Medical Center, met with Dr. Kevin O’Connor, and two others at the White House residence clinic on Jan. 17, according to the records, which emerge as questions continue to swirl about the 81-year-old president’s mental health in the wake of his debate debacle last week with former President Trump.

Dr. John E. Atwood, a cardiologist at Walter Reed, was also in the 5 P.M. meeting, the White House visitor logs show.

Sen. Roger Marshall (R-KS), who is a physician, said “many” in the medical community have “suspected for several years that the president might be suffering from Parkinson’s disease.”

“Sadly, over 500,000 Americans are afflicted by this progressive neurological condition. If the president of the United States is among them, the American people deserve to know before voting in November,” he told The Post.

Dr. Rob Howard, a professor of old age psychiatry at University College London, said that President Biden displayed many symptoms indicative of Parkinson’s disease.

The president’s “fluctuation in attentional function, his facial appearance, and his gait,” were all signs that something is amiss, said Howard, who has never examined Biden and added he was not offering a formal diagnosis.

“I am not saying its Parkinson’s disease, I am just pointing out that there are features to him that are consistent with Parkinson’s disease.”

Cannard is an authority on Parkinson’s who has worked at Walter Reed for nearly 20 years.

Since 2012, he has served as the “neurology specialist supporting the White House Medical Unit,” according to his LinkedIn.

His most recent paper was published in August 2023 in the journal Parkinsonism & Related Disorders, and focuses on the “early-stage” of the crippling disease.

Tragic that this Kevin O'Connor would risk his medical license to coverup for the Biden family and jeopardize our national security.

[notjustanyannie]

The White House has its own pharmacy that, until recently, could perhaps best be described as a hot mess, according to a recent investigation report from the Department of Defense’s Office of the Inspector General.

For years, the White House Medical Unit, run by the White House Military Office, provided the full scope of pharmaceutical services to senior officials and staff—it stored, inventoried, prescribed, dispensed, and disposed of prescription medications, including opioids and sleep medications. However, it was not staffed by a licensed pharmacist or pharmacy support staff, nor was it credentialed by any outside agency.

The operations of this pseudo-pharmacy went as well as one might expect, according to the DoD OIG's alarming investigation report. The investigation was prompted by complaints in May 2018 alleging that an unnamed "senior military medical officer" was engaged in "improper medical practices." This resulted in the OIG's investigation, which included 70 interviews of Military Office officials who worked in the White House between 2009 and 2018 and covers the office's activity until early 2020. However, the investigation heavily focused on prescription drug records and care between 2017 and 2019 during the Trump administration.

During that time, staff at the White House pharmacy kept handwritten records of prescriptions, the OIG found. The records frequently contained errors in medication counts, illegible text, and crossed-out text and lacked medical provider and mandatory patient information. The pharmacy let White House staff pick up over-the-counter drugs from open bins, in violation of Navy medical regulations. It didn't dispose of controlled substances properly, increasing the risk of diversion. Staff provided prescriptions without verifying patients' identities and provided prescriptions to people who were ineligible for care. And it dispensed pricey brand-name products freely, rather than generic equivalents that are considerably cheaper—also a violation of regulations.

In one interview, a White House pharmacy staff member said an unnamed doctor asked "if I could hook up this person with some Provigil as a parting gift for leaving the White House."

Provigil is a drug that treats excessive tiredness and is typically used for patients with narcolepsy, sleep apnea, and other sleep disorders. Brand-name Provigil is 55 times more expensive than the generic equivalent. Between 2017 and 2019, the White House pharmacy spent an estimated $98,000 for Provigil. In that same timeframe, it also spent an estimated $46,500 for Ambien, a prescription sedative, which is 174 times more expensive than the generic equivalent. Even further, the White House Medical Unit spent an additional $100,000 above generic drug cost by having Walter Reed National Military Medical Center fill brand-name prescriptions.

White House baggies

Another White House pharmacy staff member gave clues as to what the staff was doing with those brand-name prescriptions. The staffer told OIG investigators that ahead of overseas trips, the staff would prepare packets of controlled medications to be handed out to White House staff. "And those would typically be Ambien or Provigil and typically both, right. So we would normally make these packets of Ambien and Provigil, and a lot of times they’d be in like five tablets in a zip‑lock bag. And so traditionally, too, we would hand these out. ... But a lot of times the senior staff would come by or their staff representatives... would come by the residence clinic to pick it up. And it was very much a, 'hey, I’m here to pick this up for Ms. X.' And the expectation was we just go ahead and pass it out."

In addition to the excessive costs of Ambien and Provigil, the White House Medical Office may have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on health care for ineligible staff members. White House Medical Unit senior officials estimated that its Executive Medicine clinic has 60 enrolled patients, but it provided care for 6,000 employees, potentially billing the DoD. Between 2017 and 2019, officials also offered senior government officials a patient category code for care at Walter Reed, such that the facility was unable to properly bill them. In the three years, Walter Reed waived over $496,000 in outpatient fees because of these patient categories.

Overall, the OIG concluded that "all phases of the White House Medical Unit’s pharmacy operations had severe and systemic problems due to the unit’s reliance on ineffective internal controls to ensure compliance with pharmacy safety standards."

The report does not mention Rear Admiral Ronny Jackson, who served as the physician to the president from 2013 to 2018 under both Barack Obama and Donald Trump. Stat, which first reported on the OIG's new report, noted that Jackson had been accused of fostering a toxic work environment, engaging in alcohol-fueled misconduct, and misusing Ambien, specifically. OIG received those allegations during the first part of 2018, around the same time when the pharmacy complaints came in. And some of the allegations against Jackson were confirmed by a separate OIG investigation released in 2021.

Though a draft of the new report on the White House pharmacy was completed in 2020, it sat under review in the White House Military Office until July 2023.

The OIG laid out a series of recommendations, including establishing oversight of the White House pharmacy, creating a policy to determine staff eligibility, and implementing pharmaceutical oversight. DoD officials have agreed to the recommendations and are working to implement them, the OIG report noted.

[sixstringphonic]

Opinion: What a doctor sees when Joe Biden hesitates

Daniel J. Stone, March 7th 2024, The Los Angeles Times

As a geriatrician, I discuss the effects of aging with patients every day. I wish I had a chance to give my usual talk to everyone who chortles or tears their hair out about President Biden’s fitness for his job.

First, memory. I explain to patients that there are three components to consider. One is formation. Then storage. And, finally, recall. The most common issue among seniors is slow recall. This is the familiar “tip of the tongue” phenomenon, when a word seems to hide or a name won’t come to mind. You know the name, it’s in your bank of memories, it just can’t be accessed quickly. Given time, it usually arrives.

This problem, called age-associated memory impairment, often starts for people in their 30s and gradually progresses. It’s a nuisance but not disabling. If, like me, you find yourself using the term “whatchamacallit,” you probably have it. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Alzheimer’s disease, the most common cause of dementia, is a different story. Those affected lose the ability to store new memories. They can still access old memories in their memory bank and may recount events that occurred decades ago. But they can’t tell you what they had for breakfast because that never entered the memory bank. (I reassure my patients with age-associated memory impairment by asking whether they remember their breakfast. They do.)

Alzheimer’s is cognitively crippling. Losing the ability to form new memories freezes one in time. Those affected can’t make new friends or address new situations without fresh memories. Additionally, the disease progressively impairs other domains, including behavior and ultimately physical skills.

Fortunately, President Biden shows no signs of Alzheimer’s disease. At news conferences, he references new events and obviously creates new memories efficiently. He speaks slowly and pauses to find words like others with benign age-associated memory impairment. These issues are exacerbated by a chronic speech impediment. Biden has struggled with stuttering since childhood, and remnants of the condition have long been apparent in his speech.

Unfortunately, word hesitations coupled with the mild stutter can’t help but affect his public speaking. Biden’s political opponents and the uninformed exploit it, along with stereotypes about older people, to create a false narrative about intellectual impairment.

I take care of many high-functioning seniors like President Biden in my practice. One that I know, who is not a patient of mine, has been my family’s lawyer for five decades. Melvin Spears, at 96, recently responded to an emailed legal question with succinct and well-targeted advice, as he always has. When I spoke to him, he acknowledged some concessions to his age. He speaks more slowly, and transportation is a challenge because he’s stopped driving. (He considers Uber and Lyft “a hassle.”) Like Biden, Spears focuses on his work and lets others worry about his age if they choose.

Studies show that high-functioning seniors like Mel Spears and the president compensate for slower reaction time by applying superior knowledge and judgment. The presidency is not a job that requires lightning-quick reflexes. First-hand experience with the successes and failures of U.S. foreign policy over decades, for example, combined with time-tested judgment offers far more than speed in speech or decision-making.

Actuarial tables show that the 81-year-old president’s life expectancy extends nearly eight years, well beyond a second term. He gets excellent healthcare, has no major chronic illnesses, and at his recent physical at Walter Reed Military Medical Center, he was declared “healthy, active” and “fit for duty.” All that means that Biden is likely to beat the actuarial estimate. Given his overall health and the absence of current cognitive impairment, he would likely complete a second term with stable cognition.

All candidates for political office in the United States deserve to be evaluated on their accomplishments and capabilities rather than by their age. Seniors may be the last minority whose natural traits are singled out for ridicule and stereotyping. If the American people disagree with President Biden’s policies and prefer change, they should support his opponent. But in the absence of valid evidence of true cognitive impairment, their judgment should not be influenced by ageist social stereotypes. Biden and the American political process deserve better.

Daniel J. Stone is an internist and geriatrician in Beverly Hills.