Any medical person that kills for profit, that allows suffering and pain that leads to death for profit
is a medical serial killer.
The three doctor's that I hold responsible for my mother's medical murder on March 31, 1994 are:
DR. DAVID A. COHEN. CALIFORNIA LICENSE NUMBER: G9820
I was told by his former office that he retired in 2001 but his license is active
until December 31, 2003.
DR. MICHAEL ZONA. CALIFORNIA
LICENSE NUMBER; 66875
He worked with Dr. David A. Cohen at the Coastal Community hospital located at 2701
S. Bristol St. Santa Ana, California. He is a psychiatrist and is no longer at that hospital.
DR. MANUCHEHR MOHAMMADI DARANI.
CALIFORNIA LICENSE NUMBER; A29675
He was known as the G-tube doc at
Coastal Community Hospital in 1993. He is located at 2621 S. Bristol Avenue, Suite 309 Santa
Ana, California 92704. He still works at Coastal Community Hospital,
as of November
9, 2003.
Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and personal physician
to George Washington said:
"Unless we put medical freedom into the Constitution, the time will come when medicine will organize into an undercover dictatorship
to restrict the art of healing to one class of men and deny equal privileges to others."
I'm compelled to write and expose the illegal
drug induced death of my almost ninty one year old mother, Lucille Lee who died on March 31, 1994
in Newport Beach, California of starvation and euthanasia.
There are actually two types of euthanasia.
1. ACTIVE EUTHANASIA: Active euthanasia
is the taking of some affirmative action to end someone's life, such as a doctor's administration of an overdose of drugs
to a patient who is terminally ill or hopelessly comatose. Such affirmative acts are illegal.
2. PASSIVE EUTHANASIA: Is the term
which applies to direct doctor's or medical personnel and family to refrain from attempting to save the patient's life by
"heroric means."
It was a tragic fight which I lost and
my mother lost at the hands of the doctor's who perpertrated her medical murder for financial gain.
Doctor's are the government. For every one of the elderly that the doctor's kill, there is one less social security
check to pay. Social security is broke. There are millions of dollars in I.O.U's owed
to the social security fund that has never been repaid, as a result of the government using money from the social security
fund for other things.
In the beginning I didn't know what was
being played out but very soon I realized that my mother had been put into a drug induced coma at Hillhaven Convalescent Hospital in Orange, California. They changed their name to La Veta Health Nursing
and Rehabilitation. I felt helpless. My durable power of attorney was completely ignored, medical records
were falsified and I ended up moving my mother to five different convalescent hospitals and several hospitals to try and save
her life because all that medicare would pay for was three weeks.
I kept moving her to different convalescent hospitals because the doctor's wouldn't honor my Durable Power Of Attorney and
kept my mother in a drug induced coma.
My mother's descent into euthanasia began
with pure unadulterated innocence. My innocence, her innocence, my faith in her doctor's and in the convalescent hospital's
which I now know are warehouses for the elderly. How, could I have known that the monster doctor's were speeding up
my mother's death? Is this something that Beethoven would have written? Beethoven's Ninth? The torture part? In the Netherlands where euthanasia is sanctioned, more families than patients request it. I didn't request it for my mother. It's not legal in the
United States. Only in Oregon if you are terminal. My mother wasn't
terminal or comatose and she had her full body weight at the time that her death was first speeded up by all of the unauthorized
mind altering drugs that had been administered to her by the nurse's aide's who were authorized by the doctor's to do the
dirty work.
Most of the nurse's aide's are from the
Philippines. About 150,000 of them have been recruited. They are
offered better pay here in the United States
then in the Philippines. They know that they are drugging up the patient's
but they are told to do it. They wouldn't have a job if they didn't.
One of the mind altering drugs administered
without any signature from me was Klonopin. The adverse reaction is coma and weight loss including
other adverse reactions such as seizures which I experienced my mother having. I didn't know why she was having seizures
until I read the manufacturer's print out from Hoffman-La Roache, Inc.
who are located in Nutley, New Jersey.
There is a beginning and an end to everything.
My mothers decent into euthanasia began at Pacifica Hospital in Huntington Beach, California on August 6, 1993,
when she was admitted to the First Special Care on a voluntary basis on transfer from the Villa Del
Obispo in San Juan Capistrano, California.
The Villa Del Obispo is a board and care facility that she had lived at for about six years. This happened while I was
out of town without my knowledge. It was my brother who called me and told me what had happened on a Friday night.
That she had been taken to the Pacifica Hospital
and had been admitted to the psychiatric unit without my knowledge. I was very upset and hurried home and got an attorney.
The administrator was trying to get rid of my mother because she wouldn't share a room with anyone. She had to because
she was on SSI and Social Security. Not only that but the staff was tired of me complaining
to them that my mother's personal cloths and things were always disappearing. Even my mother's upper dentures that cost
me $800.00 disappeared. They were the second pair that had disappeared in two years. My mother's denture's
were very important to her. She couldn't eat without them. She cried constantly and said to me at the board and
care, "How would you like to not be able to eat without any teeth?" They had her name on the back of them and she never
left the board and care unless I took her out. I came twice a month.
According to the information received from
the board and care administrator, my mother had a long standing history of psychiatric problems and had shown significant
deterioration in her overall behavior including her ability to care for herself. She became more irritable and agitated
and expressed delusional and paranoid ideations. Apparently, prior to this hospitalization, my mother was evaluated
by the psychiatric assessment team who felt that the patient did qualify for certification on 5150, as clearly disabled.
However, my mother volunteered to be taken to
the hospital, therefore the need for the 5150 was obviated, and my mother was transferred to Pacifica Hospital located at 18792 Delaware Avenue, Huntington Beach.
A mental status examination at the time
of admission revealed an elderly female who appeared younger than her stated age of 90 and
she was dressed appropriately and neatly. My mother's verbal productivity was spontaneous
and tangential and incoherant at times. My mother showed signs of psychomotor hyperactivity.
She spoke non stop with some degree of pressured speech. At times, my mother appeared quite delusional and also confabulated
a great deal. My mother was disoriented in all spheres. How could my mother be disoriented in all spheres when the hospital
records said that she was appropriately dressed and neat? After admission, my mother underwent comprehensive psychiatric, psychosocial and medical evaluation. Dr. Farivar remained in charge of my mother's medical care throughout the length
of her stay. My mother was placed on lithium levels without any signature which were scheduled to be monitored every
Tuesday and Friday. However, the hospital received a telephone call from me and my brother, when we found out and we
severely objected to placing my mother on any mind altering medication. The lithium was then discontinued. The
hospital report states that my mother basically adjusted well to the ward milieu in that she didn't create any severe management
problems initially. However, on August 14, 1993
she became agitated. Without my signature, she was placed on ativan 0.5 mg.prn
agitation po not to exceed three doses per 24 hours. She was also started the day before on
haldol po hs. At that time,
it is noted in the hospital records, that I became more amenable and trusting of the staff regarding the establishment
of appropriate treatment for my mother.
I brought an attorney with me, as soon as I got back into town to witness a "Durable Power
of Attorney." The attorney was William C. Kersten and a social worker was present who also
signed and witnessed the "Durable Power of Attorney." My mother was able to sign her name,
as clearly as I sign my name. I remember her smiling and she was dressed appropriately and neatly. Her snow white
hair had been freshly shampooed and she was wearing make-up. One thing was missing. Her upper dentures which had
been stolen about one month earlier at the Villa Del Obispo board and care.
I tried to protect my mother as best as
I could. It was difficult because I wasn't ever home. The nurse's told me when I brought the attorney with me,
that they loved my mother and called her "Lucy." They showed me pictures of my mother celebrating her ninetieth birthday
in the First Special Care Unit which was the psychiatric unit. And I remember saying to myself, "What is a ninety year
old woman doing in the psychiatric unit celebrating her ninetieth birthday?
Everything that I have written is an example
of how the doctor's and the hospital's make money and then bill the insurance companies and Medicare.
It is a big scam. My mother didn't belong in a psychiatric unit at all. If I had the money, I would have put her
into an assisted living.
If my mother was paronoid,
as the Villa Del Obispo administrator said, it was for good reason. Long before my mother's medical murder, when I was sixteen, she had been horribly malpracticed
on time and time again by the monster doctor's. Our family became disfunctional after all
of her botched female surgeries. My mother had to go to work and made $50.00 a week as a typist. She was in alot of pain and the doctor put her on codeine so that she was able to work. I was too young to
understand what had happened. My father had died a year before in Chicago, Illinois. After his death, my mother sold our home and the entire
family moved to California to start a new life. I was sixteen, my brother was fourteen
and my sister was eight. My grand-mother came along and took care of us, while my mother worked to support all of us
on almost nothing.
When I was about twenty five, my mother
had another female operation. After the surgery she kept saying that she couldn't ever get married because the doctor
had cut out her vagina. Who would ever give a consent for such a surgery? I didn't believe
her until after she died and I did an autopsy on her. Stenosis came up on the autopsy report.
She had been sterilized. She kept saying it was a punishment. I don't know what doctor performed the sterilization
on my mother. She went in for a simple female operation and came out sterilized.
My mother went to two different doctor's in that time period. I don't know if the records of
her surgeries are still in existance since it was over forty years ago. She was 58 years old
at the time of the sterilization.
On September 13, 2003, Governor Grey Davis apologizes to
the people of California for the state's sterilization program. In the archives at
California Institute of Technology in Pasadena sit thousands
of files that chronicle a shameful secret of California's past. Could
my mother's name be on any of those records? I'm told that men and woman were sterilized who were in mental hospitals.
My mother wasn't ever in a mental hospital until she became ninety years old.
On August 19, 1993, the day after the "Durable Power of Attorney" was witnessed and signed by the attorney,
social worker, my mother and myself, my mother was discharged to a new board and care. At the
time of my mother's discharge, the hospital records state that she didn't show any evidence of agitation. However,
my mother continued to be talkative, slightly hyperactive but again my mother was easily redirectable.
She was transferred by ambulance from Pacifica Hospital to Casa Santa Ana located at 2025 North Bush Street, Santa
Ana, California. It's location was in the worst part of Santa Ana by a busy freeway. The air was thick with smog and fumes from the passing cars and
trucks. The entire building had seen better days. This wasn't a board and care that I wanted for my mother
but I didn't have any choice because of the circumstances of my life. Mother was forced to share a room with a
total stranger who smoked and didn't look clean. She was so overweight and needed a walker.
The room was very small and very depressing. My mother had been lucky to have lived at the Villa Del Obispo for almost
six years. It was nestled in the hills of San Juan Capistrano,
close to the ocean, with beautiful landscaping. The rooms that the residents lived in were kept clean and were comfortable.
The furnishings were simple. The dining room was large and not at all unpleasant, while Casa Santa Ana was depressing.
If only my mother hadn't complained about sharing a room with a stranger and making it difficult for the staff I thought,
she could have stayed at the Villa Del Obispo. The
administrator at Casa Santa Ana was also the owner. Chaim Rosen also owned other board and care homes. Chaim Rosen and his staff were very secretive about their comings and goings.
I arrived unannounced a few days after my mother had been admitted at dinner time. There were four elderly people at each
round table. I didn't see any sign of dinner on any of the tables except for a few hard rolls and a cup of coffee and
water before each resident. They were all talking very loud. "Where is my dinner?" they were saying. All
of a sudden two Mexican woman came running out of breath with dinner on plates fixed very nice.
Mashed potatoe's with gravy, vegetables and red meat. But only at my mother's table. Obviously
for my benefit, not their's. All of the other resident's were just sitting at their tables
without any dinner. Just coffee, water and hard rolls. At that very moment, Mr. Rosen's assistant, a tall woman with dark hair, about fifty and very
mean looking, came running over to me. She was very upset and told me to follow her into her office. She said
to me once I was seated before her. "Don't ever come into this dining room." I knew at that moment, that she didn't
want me to find out that they weren't feeding the resident's properly.
Casa Santa Ana was a nightmare for me and
for my mother. There was nothing that I could do about it. All of the better board and care homes
who would take residents on S.S.I. and social security, had forty people waiting in line to get in. And the horrible
board and care like Casa Santa Ana usually had a vacancy.
My mother was a borderline diabetic.
She had been taking insulin orally for a long time. Suddenly after she arrived at Casa Santa Ana, she was given insulin
by needle in her stomach. In home nurses from Foremost Home Care of California, Inc. who were located at 5584 Paramont Boulevard, Long Beach, California came daily to inject my mother in her stomach for the first time. About eight
months after my mother's medical murder, the State of California
put them out of business for alot of violations. My mother was only at Casa Santa Ana for
fifteen days, when the nurses from Foremost Home Care of California, Inc. overdosed her on September 3, 1993 and covered it up from me. I was out of town when this happened. I kept
calling my mother on the telephone from out of town to see if she was alright but the staff at Casa Santa Ana kept telling
me that they didn't have time to go and get her. I knew that something was terribly wrong and called my brother who
was disabled and didn't drive. He was able to get through one time when the staff put
my mother on the telephone but my brother heard her drop the telephone. She was so sick that she couldn't hold the telephone.
That night after he tried to speak with my mother, she was transferred by ambulance back to Pacifica Hospital with four days of diarrheal symptoms,
dehydration diabete's and loss of control of blood glucose. Dehydration diabete's
is from being overdosed on insulin. Twenty four hours later on September 4, 1993, my mother was returned to Casa Santa Ana by ambulance and two days later was critically
ill. My brother called me and told me. Casa Santa Ana didn't send her to Pacifica Hospital but instead chose to send my mother to St. Joseph's Hospital in Orange, California which was actually closer than Pacifica Hospital which is in Huntington Beach, California. The staff at Casa Santa Ana wouldn't tell me anything when
I called from out of town. It was my brother who told me that our mother had been taken to St. Joseph's Hospital.
The medical records that I obtained after
my mother's death at St. Joseph's Hospital indicated that my mother was admitted to the emergency
room on September
5, 1993 with an acute injury. The
records never said what kind of an injury? The name of the doctor at St. Joseph's and who I never met, was Dr. Claudia Gold. She told me by telephone
that she thought that my mother was having a heart attack. If she had been aware of why my mother had been taken to
Pacifica Hospital,
she would have probably had a different opinion. If she knew about my mother having been overdosed on insulin, she never
said.
It is now September 9, 1993 and my mother was discharged from St. Joseph's hospital intensive care unit at 5:00 p.m.
and transferred across the street to Hillhaven Convalescent hospital. The social worker at
St. Joseph's had found mother a medcal bed there.
Little did I know that my mother's medical murder was about to begin. I reassured my mother that I had a nice bed for
her looking out into a small garden with a few trees and plants. Nothing fantastic! There were three beds in my
mother's room. Only one of the beds was occupied. My mother was given a bed next to the window.
Almost immediately, Mr. Brown, a male nurse
who was around fifty five or older introduced himself to my mother and I, as she was transferred
from the ambulance bed on wheels to her bed by the window. Mr.
Brown said to my mother. "I'm Mr. Brown. I'm your nurse." After Mr. Brown left the room, I stayed with my mother for a little while to try
and comfort her. She was wide awake. She had her full body weight. I told my mother, "I'll come back tomorrow
to see you. Look at the garden outside from your window." I kissed my mother good bye and left to drive back to
Newport Beach, hoping that everything would be alright. I was so physically
and mentally tired from this horrible ordeal. I noticed that Dr.David A. Cohen who was assigned
to my mother at Hillhaven, wasn't anywhere around.
My mother's final descent into euthanasia
began, as soon as I left. She was immediately put into a drug induced coma with the mind altering drug, klonopin
without any signature from me, as the Durable Power Of Attorney. There was no stopping Dr. David A. Cohen or the nurse's aide's, mostly from the Philippine's from administering the unauthorized
mind altering drugs into my mother. My Durable Power Of Attorney was completely ignored. How could I have known when
I returned the next afternoon around 2:00 p.m. what was being played out. I trusted Dr. David A. Cohen and Hillhaven
Convalescent hospital. Mother was already in her drug induced coma. She looked like an angel sleeping in her bed by
the window. She had on clean cloths and her skin was almost transparent. Her beautiful white hair was freshly
shampooed. I didn't realize it at that moment, that she had been put into a drug induced coma.
I didn't know what was going on. I tried to wake my mother up. She never moved. It was like she was frozen
in time. I kept saying, "Mother, wake up." After a few minutes I went out to the nurses
station. There were two Philippino nurse's aide's standing behind
the station. I said to them, "What have you given to my mother? I can't wake her up to feed her." They both
lied to me. I could see it in their dark brown eyes. "Nothing. We will feed her when she wakes up."
I knew that they were lying but I had to leave town. I had to trust Hillhaven hospital and
Dr. David A. Cohen. If at that moment I had known that her death was being speeded
up with all of the unauthorized mind altering drugs, I would have taken her out of there and brought her home with me.
But that was a pipe dream. I didn't have the money to have a nurse take care of her and I wasn't ever home.
After I left Hillhaven
that afternoon, I left town for a few days. I was very worried about my mother. I remember I kept calling day
and night to the staff at Hillhaven. I kept asking, "Is my mother alright?" The staff
always lied to me and said, "She was doing just fine." I made many calls to Dr. David A. Cohen but he returned very few of my telephone calls. And when he did, he would get off
of the telephone from me in less than a minute. I was so upset about my mother that I called at 3:00 a.m. in the morning a few days after I had left town. I asked the night nurse, "Read
me my mother's chart?" The nurse read me the chart and it said that my mother was on klonopin
and other drugs. I didn't know what klonopin was. I went to the pharmacy the next day
and got a copy of the manufacturer's print out from the pharmacist and saw that it was a mind altering drug with adverse reactions.
That is when I knew that my mother had been put into a drug induced coma without any signature from me. I got ahold of the same night nurse the next evening. I told her to "Stop" the mind altering drugs.
She admitted to me over the telephone that," It wasn't right to put my mother into a drug induced
coma." I left messages for Dr. David A. Cohen to stop the
mind altering drugs but he never returned my frantic calls. There was no stopping him. He knew that I was the
Durable Power Of Attorney When I arrived back into town about a week later, I drove to
Hillhaven the next day. When I walked into her room she was awake and crying uncontrollably.
She kept saying, "I'm hungry. I'm hungry." She was very weak and again there was a plate of food before her. For
my benefit, not hers I figured out after she had died. At that moment, Mr.
Brown spoke up and said, "Your mother has a mental problem." I
didn't know what to believe and now I know that he was lying and helping to starve my mother to death on purpose.
Because my mother's upper denture's had
been stolen at the Villa Del Obispo almost two months earlier, I wanted to get my mother another denture, so that she could
eat. I still wasn't getting it that Dr. David A. Cohen and Hillhaven
didn't want her to eat. The worst part of this torture for my mother and I, was that Dr. David A. Cohen went so far,
as to allow me to make an dental appointment for my mother at Western Dental to have an upper denture
made for my mother when he had her on unauthorized kolonopin and other mind altering drugs.
What an evil man he is! This monster was not only violating my mother's human rights but he was also violating my human
rights. About a week passed before I could get an appointment. When I arrived a few days later to pick my mother
up to take her to Western Dental, she was in a drug induced coma. Two tall male nurses put my sleeping mother into a
wheel chair and wheeled her to my car like nothing was wrong. They had her tied into the wheel chair so that she wouldn't
fall out, while the administrator and some of the staff watched the four male nurse's untie my mother
in the wheel chair and get her into my car. Then one of the male nurse's put the wheel chair
into the trunk of my car. That is how I drove my mother to Dr.
Kathy Alai's office the first time to have her denture's started.
A few weeks later on October 16, 1993, the same thing
happened. When I arrived to pick my mother up to take her to Dr. Alai's office to get
her dentures fitted, she was in a drug induced coma. Dr. Alai tried to fit my mother's new
denture's into her mouth but she was in her drug induced coma and were ill fitting. My mother suddenly started
to wake up and then almost at once went back to sleep. I asked Dr.
Alai if I could call Dr.
David A. Cohen. She handed
me the telephone. I dialed Dr. David A. Cohen's office.
I left a message. A few minutes later, Dr. David A. Cohen returned my
telephone call. I told him that Dr. Alai was having a hard time fitting her new denture's.
Iremember telling him, "Stop drugging up my mother." He said, "I will,"
He got off of the telephone at once. He wouldn't get into a conversation with me. Everyone in the dentist's
office saw the condition that my mother was in but didn't understand what was being done to her. After my mother's death,
it was then that I figured what had been done to my mother.
As soon as Dr. Alai was finished fitting my mother's new denture's into her mouth,
a woman who worked in the office helped me get my mother out of the wheel chair and into my car.
I drove my mother to the Daily Grill in
Newport Beach to get her something to eat. She started to wake up, as I
pulled up to the Daily Grill. A waiter from inside the Daily Grill helped me get my mother into the wheel chair.
I pushed my mother into the Daily Grill and over to a table. I had the waiter bring two cups of fresh coffee and ordered
two hot turkey sandwich's with gravy. My mother was able to swallow the coffee and eat the
hot turkey sandwich with my help. As soon,as we were finished, we
left the Daily Grill. I got her back into my car with the waiter's help and drove her to have her hair done a few blocks
away at Gregorie's Beauty Salon. Her hair turned out beautiful but as soon as I was ready
to leave with my mother, she started crying uncontrollably again. Everyone in the shop heard her crying. I didn't
want to take her back to Hillhaven Convalescent hospital but I didn't have any choice. I was
crying in my heart and I still didn't know what was being played out. Nothing like this had ever happened to my mother.
How could I know? I didn't have any idea that my mother was being medically murdered very slowly.
My mother had a seizure in the car before
I started the car up to take her back to Hillhaven after her hair was done. I didn't realize
it at that moment that it was from the adverse reaction from the mind altering drug, klonopin.
The seizure stopped after a few minutes. My mother was still crying uncontrollably. I was holding her hand with
my right hand, as I drove with my left hand. She kept saying, "I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid." I looked
at my watch, as I drove up to Hillhaven Convalescent hospital. It was 7:00 p.m. I parked my car at the front entrance and left my mother to get the male nurse's
to help me get my mother into the wheel chair. Four male nurse's came out to the front entrance
and got my mother out of my car and into the wheel chair. As soon as she was in the wheel chair, she started crying
again. I walked along side of the nurses, as they wheeled my mother to her room. They took her out of the wheel
chair and put her into bed. I tried to calm my mother down and stop her from crying so hard. I washed her face
off and applied some fresh make-up to her face. Itook a picture of her with her beautiful
white hair freshly styled. At that very moment, Mr. Brown came into the room. The first thing that he said, "Your
mother has a mental problem. That is why she is crying." I left my mother shortly and drove home.
The next day on October 17, 1993, a Paul De Perry came from Pace Therapy located at 5785 Corporate Avenue, Suite 140, Cypress, California 90630 and did a DYS (Dysphasia) test on my mother to see if she could swalow.
Of course she couldn't. She had been put into a drug induced coma again when the test was done. I
know that my mother could swallow because she ate and swallowed the coffee and the hot turkey sandwich at the Daily
Grill. The DYS test was the justification for the G-tube that Dr.
David A. Cohen wanted to insert
into my mother's stomach. More money for him, the G-tube doc and the G-tube manufacturer. I call it the great
G-tube racket. The G-tube doc gets $750.00 dollars to perform the surgery. The hospital gets $700.00 and the G-tube
manufacturer gets $300.00. All that was needed was my signature to authorize the monsters to do the surgery. The
G-tube surgery wasn't done until one month later. More days went by. I called every day when I was out of town
to see how my mother was. I couldn't stand what was being done to my mother. I had to get her out of Hillhaven
somehow and away from Dr. David A. Cohen.
I called the social worker at Hillhaven.
Her name was Hope Radick. I told her I wanted to get my mother away from Dr.
David A. Cohen and Hillhaven.
I told her to have my mother transferred back to Pacifica Hospital and taken to their psychiatric unit. I was trying to buy some more time until
I could find another convalescent hospital for my mother. I didn't know what to do. Hope Radick lied to me and told me that Pacifica Hospital's psychiatric unit had gone out of business. I believed her
and didn't bother to check. Hope Radick told me that she would transfer my mother to the Coastal Community hospital and have
my mother admitted to the Golden Years psychiatric unit for older people. I agreed because I didn't want Dr. David A. Cohen to hurt my mother again. I called Hope Radick right after my mother had been transferred to the Coastal Community
hospital and put into the Golden Years Unit. I can still hear Hope Radick laughing loudly
over the telephone when I asked her, "Is my mother alright?" She laughed and said, "She went
willingly." Not only did my mother get ahold of Dr.
David A. Cohen again but she
became the unwilling patient of not only Dr. David A. Cohen and Dr. Michael Zona, a forensic psychiatrist in the Golden Years Unit who was as bad as Dr. David A. Cohen.
My mother was transferred from Hillhaven
Convalescent hospital on November 9. 1993 by ambulance to the emergency room of Coastal Community hospital before being put
into the Golden Years Unit. The medical records quote her as screaming, "They are all trying to kill me." Yes, she was right. The hospital records state that my mother wasn't very cooperative. And the record goes on
to state that my mother, Lucille Lee reveals a well
developed, well nourished body. That she is an elderly female, awake and alert. But not for long.
Dr. Michael Zona and Dr. David A. Cohen put my mother
into a drug induced coma immediately. On November 12, 1993, a consultation report says that my mother was restrained in a wheel chair because she wasn't cooperative. Had
I been there, I wouldn't have allowed that. I didn't know until after her medical murder when I read the hospital records.
The consultation report was falsified. It said that my mother was taken out of Hillhaven Convalescent hospital because of behavioral problems. I'm the one who took her out of
Hillhaven to get her away from Dr. David A. Cohen.
Everything that was done to my mother by Dr. David A. Cohen and Dr. Michael Zona, was to medically murder her and to bill medicare. It's a government thing.
Get rid of the elderly, as quick as possible so that the government doesn't have to pay their social security and their medical
bills. The next group will be the baby boomers.
On November 16, 1993, Dr. David A. Cohen called me at
home at 6:00 p.m. which was seven days after I had consented to have my mother admitted
to the Golden Years Unit to get my mother away from Dr. David A. Cohen. Dr. David A. Cohen told me I had to sign for a G-tube because if I didn't, my mother would have pneumonia
within a month. I didn't want my mother to get pneumonia and I agreed to it under coercion.
The consultation report dated November 16, 1993 had been falsified. The reason for the instant consultation
is that it is a nutritional evaluation and leading up to the possible insertion of the percutaneous
endoscopic gastrostomy tube to be inserted by
Dr. Manuchehr Darani known as
the G-tube doc. All that is needed is my signature which Dr. David A. Cohen obtained by
coercion at 7:00 p.m. that evening. I drove right over to the Coastal Communty
hospital, as fast as I could which was four miles from my home in Newport Beach, California. I got there ten minutes before Dr. David A. Cohen arrived. My mother was sitting in a wheel chair crying uncontrollably outside of
a room that patients were being fed by the nurse's aide's. And the music of Beethoven
and Mozart was playing. Just like Hitler did to the
Jews, as they were being led to the gas chambers naked. History does repeat itself. The music of Beethoven and Mozart was playing to calm the elderly people down just before they began
their descent into euthanasia. So silently behind closed doors. But my mother knew what was going on. That
is why she was crying uncontrollably. She wasn't able to tell me because of all of the unauthorized drugs that had been
administered to her. She was right when she screamed in the emergency room at Coastal Community hospital that"They
were all trying to kill her." And kill her they did.
I put my arms around my mother to try and
comfort her. I pushed my mother in the wheelchair crying uncontrollably and saw Dr. David | 
