An update on my case with the nursing regulator PLUS: a new legal battle

And gag orders

A photo snapped during the recess of my hearings. This is the face of an unrepentant Thought Criminal on trial.

Not a day goes by when I don’t receive questions about the status of my ongoing case with the BC College of Nurses and Midwives (BCCNM). It has been months since I’ve given any official update, or consolidated an update in one spot.

Here it is:

The jury (panel) is out. We finished a 21-day hearing in March of this year. Eight months later, we haven’t heard a word about when the decision will come down. We are confident in a just outcome. (Did you see how terrible the BCCNM’s case was?)

The panel must decide if I committed professional misconduct. While the BCCNM originally charged me with the additional “crime” of spreading medical misinformation, they dropped this charge—but refused to issue a public retraction or apology for defaming me.

The punishment for professional misconduct could range from a forced apology, to a social media class, to a total cancellation of my license. Everything is on the line.

Depending on the panel’s decision, we could be looking at legal appeals that would bring this case from the administrative or tribunal level to the Supreme Court of BC. From there, who knows—maybe even the Supreme Court of Canada. I can and will die on the hill of free speech and women’s sex-based rights.

This battle has been ongoing for four years. I have never had my license suspended or cancelled. I am technically able to work, without restriction, as a registered nurse in BC.

That said, I have not been at my hospital nurse educator job since before the May long weekend of this year. The past six months have, truthfully, been the most difficult of these last four years. I have grieved the sudden “loss” of a 12-year relationship with an employer. (I’m still employed, but cannot work.) I didn’t ever consider myself a person who “defined” my life or self according to my profession, but nevertheless, it was incredibly painful to feel as though this part of me had been ripped away. It feels as big as and life-changing as a divorce, with the seven stages of grief to go along with it.

I am under gag orders about the specifics of a separate legal issue that has led to this inability to work.

(That I’ve started working for the National Post earlier this year has been incredible. It is quite literally a dream come true—I studied journalism before I became a nurse—and this opportunity brings me so much joy and pride.)

For the BCCNM case, the Justice Centre for Constitutional Freedoms has been graciously paying my legal bills. For this new, and separate, legal issue, I do not have funding. I have privately hired the indomitable Lisa Bildy to represent me. I also have representation from the BC Nurses’ Union, but that is a complicated issue that I am not at liberty to describe just now.

More than a year ago, I began speaking to Tammy and Jordan Peterson. They both invited me onto their podcasts so that I could tell the world what is going on. Lisa Bildy and I have been taking a cautious approach, and I have been keeping my head down for the time being. I look forward to the day when I can tell my story. (Do you know how difficult it is to say “no” to Jordan and Tammy?!) I apologize that I have to be so mysterious in the meantime.

What I can say: A far-left activist group named CareNotCops604 has been harassing me. The group is made of healthcare workers—doctors, nurses, and more—including colleagues within the same organization I work for. They have created public campaigns to get me fired and dropped by the BC Nurses’ Union.

Fuck ‘em all.

This has resulted in the public mass reporting me to my employer. CareNotCops604 posted my exact work location. Shortly after that, a police investigation began into threats of violence and/or death that were phoned in to the unit I had been working on. Apparently someone would like to beat me to a pulp with a baseball bat for the crime of knowing that women don’t have penises.

Also, more than a year ago, my personal phone number was compromised. I believe that it was unlawfully accessed by someone from work, but I have not been able to prove this—and the organization’s IT department would only do the most basic assessment before the “Respectful Workplace Department” denied that it happened (which they cannot know, but asserted anyways).

I have received numerous harassing phone calls since. There is another police investigation into this matter. Unfortunately, and consistent with what I learned in my event-organizing days, the police are very ineffective in identifying or punishing persons who threaten you via phone or email.

There will likely come a time when I am forced to crowd fund for legal fees for this new case. I won’t do that until I can reveal all of the details publicly. I don’t know when this will happen. As I have learned, lawfare is an agonizingly slow process—because the persecutors know that process is punishment. So it goes.

I wake up every day and choose this fight. Free speech and women’s rights matter.

I accept the good and the bad days, and I embrace the way this fight has hardened me. I embrace the anger that keeps me going. If I could have a do-over, I’d fight all over again. And pray that I’d once again meet all of the wonderful people I’ve met along the way.

“Cancellation” is supposed to destroy you—but it only works if you internalize the blows and destroy yourself. Cancellation is supposed to kill you with shame. But—again—you have to allow the shame to get inside your head. That’s not going to happen.

xx

Amy