The father of my children died. Dropped dead. In front of them.

At 2 and 6 years old they lost their daddy. Traumatically. They will live almost their entire lives without one of two people who loved them most. Without one of two people every kid deserves to grow up with.

Brandon’s death shook our community. Continues to shake it. It’s about to rumble it more.

I have been very open about every aspect of it. From posting 12 hours after his death, to continuing to share our story, and all aspects of my journey through grief. You, the community, have encouraged everything about this. This will be the biggest thing I share. Listen closely.

Brandon died of Lymphohistiocitic myocarditis.

This was determined by the Ontario Coroner’s Office at Kingston General Hospital. Because of the absolute shock of a healthy, active 34 year old man dropping dead, his body was sent to Kingston for a full and extensive autopsy. The results can take several months, and I have just recently received the full report (which had to be formally requested).

When they eventually gave the cause of death, it shocked both the local coroner and our family doctor. It was assumed he died of a cardiomyopathy — a genetic condition that he would have been born with and gone undiagnosed. This was not the case.

Lymphohistiocitic myocarditis is caused by a virus. His heart was extensively damaged. There was so much scar tissue, that it literally couldn’t pump another beat. I had no chance at reviving him. The official report states that his entire heart was damaged — not one ventricle or one area — top to bottom damaged. Fully attacked, for multiple months.

Brandon did not have covid. His work supplied rapid tests and we had done several throughout summer and fall. The virus that killed him was likely the mRNA vaccine.

Any medical professional I have spoken to and who has looked into this further has been quick to disregard the vaccine as the cause as “the research” shows myocarditis cases only happening within two weeks of an administered dose. First off, what fucking research? We ARE the fucking research. Secondly, this is only what they are allowing to be reported.

Until November 5th, I was a sheep. I fully admit that. Brandon and I both believed strongly in the vaccine and would roll our eyes at protestors, conspiracy theorists and all the “anti-vaxx” posts on social media. November 5th onward, my eyes have been opened.

I owe this to Brandon. To share what I believe killed him. What did kill him. What left his daughters without their daddy. To open all of your eyes. To allow yourselves to see things from another perspective. To think thoroughly before deciding to vaccinate your children, or get yourself boosted. I cannot in good conscience allow schools to bring in vaccine clinics and stay silent.

I believe in science. I absolutely love and respect medicine. I will never, ever vaccinate my children (or myself further) against Covid-19. We know nothing about the long term effects of this vaccine. Nothing. If you think you do, you don’t.

Please respect my energy on this. I have turned comments off. I will not reply to direct messages. If you see me in person I am happy to chat about it. Internet wars will never be my thing. But I feel deeply about sharing this — this isn’t something that should ever be kept quiet.

For all of you preaching to vaccinate children, please put yourselves in my shoes and then kindly allow yourself to shut your mouth.

Fight for your children and their rights. I’ll be fighting for mine. We never got a chance to fight for Brandon 💔

Please feel free to share.

#EnoughIsEnough

*******

I am not angry. I think anger is the emotion a lot of people expect out of me. Ask my closest friends (who I share every other crazy emotion with) — angry isn’t in the top 100 words they would use to describe me.

I did not expect Saturday’s post to be shared as widely as it was. Nor did I expect such a huge, positive reaction. It’s very clear more cases like this have happened and that people were awaiting a voice to speak of them.

Directly, I have received an outpouring of love, respect, and support. Indirectly, others have made other indications — cowardly in private groups or whispering in the community.

I did not share Brandon’s story because I am angry. I threw my body over my husband’s body and tried to revive him while my daughters watched from the bathtub, but I am not angry. Unless you have felt this very experience, you have absolutely zero right to judge where I am coming from and what I choose to share. I am a widow at 34 years old. My husband’s death could have been prevented, but I am not angry. I am sad, heartbroken, overwhelmed and a million other things, but I am not angry. At least not right now.

I chose to share Brandon’s story because I am downright scared for our children and their future. I am scared of what long term affects will come out of the woodwork in the months and years to come. I am scared of developmental and fertility issues. I, like many of you, am scared of the unknown.

You can absolutely choose to vaccinate your children if you feel that that is the right choice for your family. I do not judge you for that. I never will. You do you. I chose to share my story because I want your choices to be informed. I want the world to know that things like this are happening, despite best efforts to keep them quiet.

I have worked damn hard on myself in the past three months. Damn hard to not be angry. To use my energy in more productive ways. For my daughters, and for myself. I have two therapists. I exercise more regularly than I have in years. I eat well. I lost the one person who loved me most, and have worked really damn hard to become the person who now loves me most. I have worked so damn hard so that I can still create the life I want to live. Life is to be lived.

I am not angry. I am strong and I am brave. And I care a lot about you, your children and the future ❤️

-Chantelle Watt

February 22, 2022