My Six Implants

~ A mysterious highway stop
~ Sexual intrusions
~ Heart, head, and left scapula

One and Two:  my sinus and my g-spot

In November 1994, I was driving home from a “women’s spiritual gathering,” at which I’d felt quite out of sorts, maybe manipulated, but I wasn’t sure.  After getting gas in Benson, Arizona, I was barely a quarter-mile up the Interstate when my headlights went suddenly out.

I pulled into the emergency lane and thought I’d walk back to the gas station and call my boyfriend, about an hour and fifteen minutes away.

Instead I sat there and stared out the window.  I kept telling myself, “Come on!  Let’s go!”  But I just sat there.  I couldn’t make myself move!

After what seemed to be a half-hour, I had the idea to turn the key to free the steering wheel and coast down the emergency lane and save myself a few minutes of walking.  But when I turned the key, the headlights came on, so I drove home and found my boyfriend dressing to come look for me.  The next morning, I learned that I was not one-half hour late, but over two hours.  I’d had over an hour and a half of “missing time.”

That morning, my boyfriend and I attempted to make love, but I couldn’t – something was causing me tremendous pain.  We could not locate a spot that was sore to the touch, but stretching my tissues was excruciating.  I said it felt like a “hog ring” had been clamped around some tissues deep inside me, not allowing things to stretch.  It would remain so for many months.

That afternoon, I blew a large blood clot from my nose – the classic alien implant site – and came to terms with the idea for the first time – not easily.

Years later, in relationship with a professional photographer, I had him take a photo inside my vagina.  He captured the puncture wound clearly, centered in my g-spot – as well as a laceration from front to back.

inside w arrow

My g-spot (descending bulge) was also sliced from back to front and twice more (not visible here) from side to side – besides the puncture at top.

For comparison, here's a normal g-spot. The photograph was supplied by a friend in sex education. You can see it is ribbed and round.

For comparison, here’s a normal g-spot. The photograph was supplied by a friend in sex education. You can see it is ribbed and round.

The deep laceration explained another period of painful sex I’d suddenly encountered the year before the puncture wound, uncomfortable to touch, as though on raw nerves.  And it was.

The g-spot implant was activated one night, thankfully only once, when I was reading in bed (nothing erotic).  In a single movement, my hips curled, lifting me off the bed – in shock – then I collapsed, as the thing seemed suddenly turned off.  Very unpleasant.

Three:  my heart

The third one I recognized seemed to be in my heart.skeleton-hand-holding-anatomical-red-heart-free-tee-design-s

I do not have any memories of when it might have been put there, but I was visiting my Naturopath in 2006, about stress, and after we’d talked for twenty minutes or more, we moved to the exam room for her to listen to my heart.

She placed the stethoscope on my chest and snugged the ear pieces in her ears, then abruptly pulled them  away and listened in the room.  She replaced the stethoscope, then pulled it away again, looked perplexed, then walked to the door and listened in the hallway.  She came back with a quizzical look on her face.

“Do you hear music?” she asked me.

I was dumbfounded, but I had an idea.  I’d just told her about my stress of learning four years ago that I was a mind control subject, and I’ve angered my controllers, and they’re giving me hell.  So this wouldn’t be totally without context:  “Maybe it’s my implant picking up a radio station,” I suggested, to answer her question.

Her face blanched, and then she recovered.

After listening to my heart, saying no more about music, she announced that she heard a swishy valve and referred me to a cardiologist.

Did she hear the swish over music?  What kind of music?  Instrumental?  New Age?  Western?  I didn’t have the heart to ask, she looked so upset.

I included this account in my book and asked her later if I’d recalled everything correctly, and she told me I had.  Every time, however, that I’ve tried to contact her since then, she has never returned my calls.  I accept that this is just too scary for many people.  I understand totally.

Four:  my clitoral shaft

A few years ago, I woke to experience an irritation beside my clitoral shaft – as though someone had driven something up inside me at least an inchIt felt terrible, but nothing could be seen.

I thought of getting an x-ray, but I’d heard the new materials can’t be seen by x-ray, and besides, their network is extensive in the medical system.

The irritation went away.

Five:  my head

This one I might have actually identified back in the late 1970s, but dismissed the idea as the craziest science fiction, worth only jeers.  So it only flashed ever-so-briefly through my mind now and then, never getting any conscious attention – until 2010 when it seems it was activated.

Back in the late 1970s, my doctor, for some reason I cannot recall, x-rayed my head.  When the technician had taken the pictures, he came into the room while we were waiting for the doctor to return, looking at me like something amazing.  He almost danced from foot to foot in anticipation, asking me random questions to have a reason to stay in there.

When the doctor returned and asked him to leave, he was visibly disappointed not to hear our conversation.  The doctor told me nothing interesting.

Because of the technician’s strange behavior, I ordered my x-rays to see for myself.  Unfortunately, I had them sent to my father, because in those days, patients couldn’t necessarily get their files just by asking.  My father was a doctor (a veterinarian, but I hoped the other doctor wouldn’t know), and I thought my father’s request would be more powerful than mine.  When I asked my father for them, he just told me they were normal and did not offer to let me see them.  Obedient daughter then, I didn’t press.

One evening in 2010, sitting on the sofa, reading, I suddenly felt a spot of vibration slide across my foot, then move on my ankle.  I pulled my leg nearer my body, but soon my foot felt the vibration again, as though it was the result of a beam seeking me.  I moved to a chair, but within a few minutes, the beam had found me again.

I stood up and realized there was nothing I could do, short of leaving the house for the night.  And even that I wasn’t sure would be a sure thing.  Being tired, I lay down on my bed and submitted to whatever would come.

Next thing I remembered, I felt a much larger spot of vibration which encompassed my head.  It felt rather pleasant, and I fell asleep.

The next day, I woke with both ears ringing, and they’ve rung almost constantly right up to now.

One July night in 2012, I lay down to sleep, when suddenly it seemed as though someone had beamed a totally ridiculous visual into my mind:  a little stick-figure classic alien, two-dimensional, primary orange.  I knew it was not my wandering mind; someone else was projecting this into my head.

The alien pronounced a prophesy about humanity’s history coming to an end – which I found plausible, but not necessarily compelling.  I was completely ambivalent about the message, but I was concerned that this sort of thing could be done to me.

At the end of the alien’s rather long presentation (recounted here), he rotated a bar that seemed to span between my ears and, with that, the volume rose to a level that drove me into an immediate panic.  I jumped up and ran to find my iPod with a hypnotherapy track I thought I could use to help me keep calm, but I could not find the track.

It seemed to have disappeared from its folder, leaving only a different hypnotherapy track from the Monroe Institute that I’d been afraid to listen to because I thought it could contain mind control commands, so I never had listened.  In my panic, I said, “Oh well,” turned it on, and lay down to try to relax despite the sonic torture.

The beginning of the track and the end I could recall afterward, but nothing in the middle.  I listened the next day, intending to stay conscious, but each time I came to the scene with the pond, I couldn’t remember what I’d heard.  Very upsetting.

I was stunned by that, plus the idea that someone could turn on a sound-track with visuals in my head.

I’ve also sometimes received movies of random things like apparent family vacations.  They do not feel like anything I know, but appear to be old films of people doing things like walking down a dock on a family vacation or walking down a dirt road in some third world country.  Random movies stored in universities or purchased at garage sales.

They are clearly two-dimensional, rectangular – like a movie, not an imagination.  Sometimes, I’ve even seen images that appear to be two movies projected at once, one over the other.

Thankfully, they’re faint, and I can usually ignore them.

Six:  my left scapula

DSC05256One day (probably in 2013), my left scapula began itching ferociously,  and it continued to itch for at least a year.

Over time, even though I’d quit scratching it, a large bruise developed beside the itchy spot, which remained there for over a year.  No doctor could tell me what it was, so I assumed it was an implant malfunctioning, sending out an electronic signal that was bruising me.

After that year-plus, in August 2014, an elongated scoop mark appeared one day right where the original itch had been, beside the bruise.  It seemed, at first, as if the biopsy tool had been dragged gently across the surface of the skin, leaving a red, sensitive welt, but now I think they might have used a boring-type tool to find the implant under the skin (above).

By September 2014, we’d watched the bruise fade away (below), then another scar appeared, up higher.  Since then, I’ve had bouts of numbness and hypersensitivity on the top of my shoulder.


The first scapula implant was followed by a bruise that never faded away until shortly after I found the shallow scoop indicating it had been removed.

The new scapula implant, up higher, was followed by numbness and hypersensitivity in the area above it.

Others that may be “nothing”:

Seven?  my toe

A hard lump showed up one day under the calloused skin of my left, next-to-the-smallest toe, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.  I dug at it relentlessly and eventually pulled off something oddly shaped and threw it away.

Eight?  my lower shin

Shortly after I threw that away, another, slightly different lump showed up on my left shin, two inches above my ankle bone.  IMG_2556It’s still there, hard, dark, odd.  It’s never “done” anything odd except to show up for no apparent reason right after I threw away the first mysterious lump.

Nine?  my left arm

Driving to the big UFO Conference in Roswell, New Mexico, (2009/10) I suddenly realized that I’d been scratching repeatedly the top of my right hand.  In the morning light, I saw three newly healed scars in a diagonal line from near my thumb to below my ring finger.  Each was short, about 1/4 − 1/3 inch, very pale, totally healed in appearance, but itching!  It seemed they’d all happened in the night – but they were totally healed, as if treated to “science-fiction medicine.

At the conference, I found myself standing in front of the table of an author who called himself “The Alien Hunter,” Derrel Sims.  He was testing for implants with a stud-finder and apparently finding them in people – or he was a showman.  I had him test my right hand, but he said he found implants in my left arm – a number of them, he said.

Do I believe him?  I don’t know.

Coincidentally, a psychic healer had told me the previous year that I had “attachments” on my left arm.

So there are six I feel quite certain about:
– in my head (technician excitement, 1979)
– in my head (blood clot, 2004) (either of these might have transmitted the “alien message”)
– in my g-spot (puncture wound, 2004, activated dramatically, 2010?)
– in my heart (receiving music heard by my Naturopath, 2006)
– in my clitoral shaft (impossible except with deep puncture, 2011)
– my left scapula (emitting bruising energy, 2013, reversed with its removal, 2014)

Some people seek to have their implants removed. 

Dr. Lier, the surgeon famous for doing this and sending them to labs for fascinating analysis, offered to remove mine for free – if I’d get myself to LA.

I never did, even when I had they money, and now Dr. Lier has passed away.

I hesitated because I’d heard that some people got ill when they removed their implants, and others had opined that maybe they were there for some positive purpose, though we might not understand.

I don’t understand, but am not in a rush to have any removed, even though I saw Derrel Sims, the Alien Hunter at the conference last week and he offered to help me with that.

Maybe it’s my programming, making me decline.  Maybe it’s my own good intuition.

What do you think?

I’m not enamored of the idea of being bionic, and – less so – being controlled.

I feel very hesitant about the state of the world – and worry sometimes about my place in it.

Please share if you can offer something positive.  I need it today.

(Sometimes these summaries are so hard to do, emotionally.  I enjoy my life so much more when I’m in denial.)