Thu, 5 Oct 2006 07:02:42 -0700 (PDT)


"LymeQ Ween" <>  Add to Address BookAdd to Address Book  Add Mobile Alert


"CHRISTOPHER ADAMS" Famous Would-be Scientist Hero=- Just like McSweegan claims to be...Re: CORRECTION, It was McSweegan's "Deliberate Release" wacko book ... Here's the data...Re: NIH's Crazy Edward McSweegan and his harassment of the US Department of Defense (and everyone else)


"LymeQ Ween" <>,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Send an Instant Message, Send an Instant Message,,,,,,,,

"As a graduate student twenty years ago, I had a departmental
recruiting poster tacked up on the wall next to my desk.  It read, in part, "If
you are curious, patient, and *** awfully damned intelligent,*** consider a
Ph.D. in microbiology."  In 1984 a degree in microbiology seemed like a
good idea..." -- Edward McSweegan.

He's a psychopath, and never actually does any lab bench work or any discovery.

The anonymous, vulgar, internet harassing troll who accuses Lyme victims of giving Lyme specialists blow jobs, and also issues death threats to Lyme victims, stalks and harasses them, and posts personal information about them all over the internet, is named Chuck P Adams @ aol.

What a coincidence.  Chuck P Adams, and the famous hero of Edward McSweegan stupid and unsophisticated novel (that we paid for while he was doing nothing at the NIH) is named Chistopher Adams.


Perhaps the media will look into it.


LymeQ Ween <> wrote:

Deliberate Release
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- -
By Edward McSweegan

About the Book:

Washington, D.C. and the Internet are the settings for this novel of modern
terror and ancient disease. After two Egyptian scientists release an African
virus in Washington local doctors misdiagnose the mysterious infection.
Later they begin to suspect smallpox and terrorism. They are only half
right. Their initial suspicions are fueled by anonymous disinformation
spread through the Internet and the media. Government scientist Christopher
Adams knows the Egyptians and has been trying to track them through the
Internet. By the time he and the FBI cut through the fog of deception and
find the terrorists, residents are dying and the city is in panic.

Any biological attack is, by definition, a successful attack: witness the
mayhem caused by a few anthrax-contaminated letters. Unlike other novels of
bioterror and epidemic, Deliberate Release avoids the use of biotechnical
wizardry, chance mutations and wide-eyed fanatics in order to convey a sense
of our vulnerability to assault and infection. Instead, most of the
ingredients for this modern-day detective story of one man's efforts to stop
a terror plot come from the neighborhood library, the hardware store and the
local pharmacy. Even as we try to nail the front door shut against future
attacks, Deliberate Release provides a fictional window into potential
backdoor vulnerabilities.

Deliberate Release (previously titled, Tomorrow's Pox) won the grand prize
in the 2002 Maryland Writers Association-1st Books.Com Book Contest.

Edward McSweegan:

Edward McSweegan is an infectious disease expert in the Washington, D.C.
area. His writing credits include numerous non-fiction articles and book
reviews. A fictional essay appeared in Science as part of the magazine's
millennial series, "Visions of the Future." A short medical mystery won
First Place in Writer's Digest genre fiction contest and was published in
The Year's Best Writing 2001. Other writing awards include two First Place
prizes and the Grand Prize in the 2002 Maryland Writers Association-1st
Books.Com Book Contest.

LymeQ Ween <> wrote:

McSweegan, you will recall, is the NIH's Infamous "DO NOTHING" novelist. I will copy in McSweegan's sicko "Obsession" story below this complaint to the FBI and the US Attorney's office.

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Anonymous INternet Harssment using an anonymous remailer...Re: Same address for "hung like a horse" post as the Lacy Peterson Death threat post...Re: Anonymous Internet Harssment and Lyme is a Bioweapon (US Army says so)



Thursday, October 05, 2006 09:18:10

[View Source]  

Anonymous Internet Harassment using an anonymous remailer:

Notice that "Chuck" uses an anonymous remailer in his story about how women who
have children with Lyme disease, have put ticks on their children, themselves,
in his "Obsession" story, in which he also pretends to be a woman (Ed has
Serious  sexuality/mysogyny issues):

McSweegan was also at the Jan 31, 2001 FDA LYMErix vaccine meeting and later
posted this anonymously, using a remailer:

That was after I told the FDA that LYMErix was bogus
because they  used a bogus blood test to qualify it and that Yale and SmithKline
illegal threw out vaccine failure data as "unconfirmed Lyme"

The SPECIFICITY of each antibody to Lyme is ACCURATE for diagnosis.
If you require 5 SPECIFIC antibodies to be present, when,  as Steere says,
these antibodies evolve over time, that decreases the ACCURACY of the test, or misses 
more cases.

Steere himself said these antibodies appear over time, and that new IgM was
diagnostic of persisting infection:

The opposite is what we now have as a test for  Lyme, that the CDC claims is
accurate but is NOT according to the FDA rules for a method validation.  What we
have now for a Lyme test is like saying I cannot be white female unless I have
blond hair, am shorter than 5'-4," and have a certain level of estrogen in my

The entire STUPID idea for a Lyme vaccine for a relapsing fever borreliosis was
Ed McSweegan's, as you  can see from his harassing  letter to Senator Barry
Goldwater, where he not only exposed the fact that the Navy experiments with
illegal nerve gas, but that the US Navy was incompetent, and he also verbally
assaulted the entire Department of Defense, as the Commanding Officer of the
Naval Medical Research Unit in Bethesda stated.

McSweegan's harassing letter and the Navy's response is on my homepage. 

You can see that McSweegan has stalked and harassed everyone, and is very, very
mentally ill.

Please look into the



By Edward McSweegan
Honorable Mention

"Are you back online with those crazies?"

"They're not crazy. And neither am I."

"Well, you're making me crazy. And the kids."

I listened to his angry exhale. I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck as I stared at the computer screen. My skin is super-sensitive since the disease started.

He said, "The kids are in bed, in case you manage to drag yourself away from that online loony bin."

I listened to his feet stomp into our bedroom.

The kids are fine. He's fine too. But I'm not. Doesn't he understand that? It hurts just to sit here and type out my messages to the group. I don't know what I'll do if I can't type anymore. Who will I talk to about this endless nightmare?

I shouldn't say that. Frank was a good husband. He went with me to the doctors. I had all the symptoms. I still do. There's fever, sweats, chills, sore throat, upset stomach, shortness of breath, joint pain, headaches, eye floaters, confusion, forgetfulness…, confusion, irritability--that's mostly Frank's fault--tremors and exhaustion. I think there are more. They come and go.

The first doctor I saw didn't have a clue. He poked and prodded and asked about the flu.

"It's June. Who gets the flu in June?” I asked.

"It happens," he said from behind the barricade of his desk.

I tried most of the doctors in town. None of them knew what they were doing. None of them made a diagnosis I could accept.


On grocery day, I was still wondering why I felt so bad when I overheard two women talking about Lyme disease and the ticks the older woman said she kept finding in her yard. I backed out of line with my cart.

“Excuse me,” I said. “What were you saying about those ticks?”

"Oh, it's dreadful, dear. Nasty, blood-sucking creatures. Then you get all those horrible complications that never go away. The doctors never manage to diagnose it," she said. “It’s a nightmare.”

I was so excited. I grabbed her arm as if she might suddenly disappear. "Yes, I think I have that." I told her about all my symptoms and the doctors' silly ideas about flu and aging.

"My dear, they have no idea.” She waved a dismissive hand. "You need an expert.”

“And you need the right information to make sure they give you the right antibiotics," said the other woman.

"Where can I…?"

"The Internet. There is a whole community of wonderful patients who can help you get the right treatments for this awful thing."

She scribbled some Web addresses on the corner of her grocery list, tore off the paper and handed it to me. "You check here before you waste more time with those HMO docs. We have to help ourselves, dear. Keep in touch."

Well, she was right. I found everything on the Internet. Some victims had posted their symptoms, a do-it-yourself diagnostic survey, and heart-breaking stories about ruined health and indifferent doctors. Now I didn’t feel so alone.


Frank took me to another doctor and I got the Lyme blood tests. All the tests came back negative, but I knew they would. The Internet sites said the tests were inaccurate so you had to rely on how you felt.

The doctor shook his head and said I was wrong. “Online chat rooms and newsgroups are not reliable medical sources. You shouldn’t listen to faceless strangers just because they’re agreeable and accessible through a computer.”

I saw Frank nodding in agreement. I think that was when he decided I was obsessed. That was so unfair of him. All I wanted was to feel better again.

Driving home, he said, "Honey, none of the doctors can find any evidence that this is Lyme. They did the blood work. I think we need to re-focus and ask what else it could be."

"No. The tests are unreliable. The Internet says you can be seronegative."

“Then why’d you take ‘em in the first place?” He raked his fingers through his "Look, a pregnancy test isn't always reliable either. But you take five of them and if they're all negative it's safe to say you're not pregnant. Right?"

He had that nodding, eager look on his face. I could see he was hoping I would just agree. But I couldn't. Other people failed the tests and still had Lyme. I knew I did too. "I'm not pregnant," I said. We drove home in silence.


The doctor refused to write me a script for antibiotics. I’d already used all the antibiotics I got from the all the others. It’s so outrageous having to beg for the medicine you need to get well. Lucky for me, someone in Lyme Chat said you could buy antibiotics online. They were for aquarium fish, but so what. I bought three hundred dollars worth before Frank saw the credit card bills and went ballistic.

A week later, Frank suggested we see a specialist at the university hospital.

Well, he seemed nice enough. He read through my charts and asked me about my lab work. I didn’t tell him about the aquarium antibiotics.

He made a temple of his fingers and said, "You know, these ticks are clever little vampires. They have tiny saw-toothed heads to cut through your skin and burrow in." He jabbed two fingers onto the desktop. "Then they secrete a cement that holds them in place. That's why they're so hard to pull out. Now once they get themselves anchored they release various chemicals to dampen your immune system and keep your blood from coagulating."

I felt faint.

"And the bacteria they sometimes carry, they're sort of shaped like microscopic worms or snakes. A lot of people imagine these things wiggling through their skin and corkscrewing into their nerves and joints."

I scratched at a sudden itch on my arm.

“These can be very powerful and disturbing images for many people. Sometimes they can be overwhelming, even when there is no tick. No parasite. No bacteria."

"What?" I asked. "You mean, not real?"

He drummed his fingers on his desk. "It's a condition called 'delusional parasitosis'. Lyme disease fits this paradigm for a lot of people: some of whom are often so desperate for a physical explanation to an illness when, in fact, it may be more appropriate to explore an emotional or psychiatric…."

I was out of my chair and out the door before he finished telling me I was nuts. In the car, I screamed at Frank for tricking me. “I’m not crazy.”

"Look, you need help,” he pleaded. "You need to get well. Who cares how that happens as long as it happens? Those hypochondriacs on the Internet are just re-enforcing your belief in something no one else can see."

"Then I'll have to show you," I said.


On Saturday, I got myself out of the house and drove over to the kids' school. Where the playground backed up to the woods, I unfolded one of our queen-size white sheets and dragged it over the uncut grass. I saw a tick expert do this on the Discovery Channel. Then I turned the sheet over.

"There they are." I started laughing. Reluctantly, I knelt down and counted the tiny black dots clinging to my sheet. I used a stiff blade of grass to flick the little monsters into an old baby food jar. I jammed the lid and hurried home.

I showered and shampooed. Then I went into our backyard with a fresh white sheet; I had to throw the first one away. How could I ever sleep on it again? I dragged the sheet around the yard until I found a tick. Thank God we didn’t have as many as the school. I showered again, threw away the other contaminated sheet, and waited for Frank to come home.

When he came in I waved the jar in his face and said, "Here's your proof. We're infested."

He took the jar and peered at it. "What's this?"

"Ticks. Nymphal ticks. The kind that infect you. They’re loaded with Lyme bacteria and God knows what else."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I'll spray some pesticide if you're afraid of the backyard. Is there any dinner or do we have to eat ticks?"

I stormed upstairs and got back online to tell my fellow victims about the ticks I found.

Later, Frank came upstairs to nag me about my Internet sessions, but I ignored him. After he went to bed I found my jar of ticks in the kitchen and brought it upstairs.

The boys were asleep. I straightened out their sheets and blankets. I know I haven’t been the best mother to them lately. But I’m so tired from having to fight this disease alone. I need help.

I unscrewed the jar's lid and sprinkled the ticks into their hair.

Someone has to listen to me.