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‘Even in His Pajamas’: A Conversation with Dr. Paul Oosterhuis on Lessons From the Down Under


Dr. Paul Oosterhuis, an anesthesiologist in Australia and outspoken critic of Australian health officials’ COVID-19 treatment protocol, lost — and then won back — his medical license. He now considers himself a “soldier in the war for medical freedom.”


By Julie Obradovic



Sitting in front of a computer screen in August 2021, Dr. Paul Oosterhuis was prepared.

The regulators, the people who hold the registrar of health practitioners in Australia, had recently come out with a document informing practitioners they could only speak about the positives of the COVID-19 vaccine.


Saying anything negative or cautionary was not allowed.


Dr. Oosterhuis addressed the document in a tweet. Since the COVID crisis began on the other side of the world the year prior, he had become rather outspoken on social media about many pandemic protocols.


Now that the virus was finally at Australia’s doorstep, he had a lot to say. “The document is ridiculous,” he tweeted.


“In science,” he argued, “you can’t give informed consent without saying the pluses and minuses, the hazards and the benefits.”


A combination of tweets, Facebook posts and Facebook comments like this had already ruffled some feathers. During an event he refers to as “Facebook fear porn” in March of 2021, the registrar insisted the only way to save lives was with the jab.


“Please tell everyone to take vitamin D, zinc, hydroxychloroquine, and ivermectin as an evidence-based approach for treatment,” he countered.


And rather quickly he was told, “This is misinformation. I’m going to report to you.”


So later that year, in August, when he tweeted New South Wales Health Minister Brad Hazard, he wasn’t surprised by what happened next. Mr. Hazard had rounded up 24,000 school kids at Sydney Arena to get the experimental COVID-19 injection. Dr. Oosterhuis was furious.


“Here’s the childhood infection fatality rate by age. Kids are more likely to die from sharp objects.”


He went even further. At that time, the infection fatality rate for kids was .00016%, effectively zero.


“If there is even one death among these 24,000 kids, you have a signal of harm. And if you’re not watching for it, you will be held culpable.”


Two hours later, he received a call. The Medical Council of New South Wales was hastily putting together an immediate suspension hearing under the “Immediate Action Powers for Public Protection” section 150 of Health Practitioner Regulation National Law.


The hearing would be based on 10 social media posts where Dr. Oosterhuis had stated there was no evidence for anything the government was doing, whether it be masks, mandates or jabs, specifically regarding antibody-dependent enhancement. These were the posts selected as high heresy and grounds for suspension.


So here he was, sitting in his living room on a computer screen, participating in what he considered to be an online kangaroo court, but eager to participate anyway. He wanted to put them on notice. Whether they were calling it a vaccine or gene therapy, it hadn’t undergone the safety testing it should have.


There were no long-term data on the vaccine’s safety or efficacy, and they had an obligation to say so.


But it turned out, they weren’t interested in anything he had to say about that. Likewise, they had no interest in debating the science he provided or the merit of what he had claimed in any of his posts.


In fact, they only had one question: “Are you vaccinated?”


The answer was, no. And for the first time, there was a press release with his name on it. Dr. Paul Oosterhuis was officially labeled a threat.


‘Flabbergasted’: a doctor could lose his license for tweeting about informed consent?


I first met Paul in my parents’ kitchen 11 years ago.


He had flown to America with my cousin to attend a family event. Traveling the world after college, my cousin had never made her way home. Instead, she settled in Australia, married Paul, and had children. It was my first time meeting them too.


Eleven years ago I was very involved in the vaccine-safety-medical-freedom-quest-for-justice movement, which was substantially smaller then. I had helped form The Canary Party, now called Health Choice, the first political organization whose mission was to fight for medical freedom, justice for the vaccine injured, and systemic change to the vaccine program in the United States.


I had raised money for various autism organizations, marched on Washington, repeatedly met with my legislators, appeared on television, spoken at conferences and written more articles than I can count as a contributing editor to the Age of Autism blog and for other publications.


In short, I was pretty outspoken myself. And given this was long before anyone could have ever imagined the COVID pandemic, or that a highly respected mainstream doctor from Australia would lose his license for tweeting about informed consent, we didn’t really discuss my views on autism causation.


In fact, I’m fairly certain I totally avoided it.


So when my mom texted me last year that Paul had caused quite a stir and lost his license to practice medicine because of his opinions about COVID policies and protocols, I was admittedly pretty flabbergasted.


I had learned over time that the majority of physicians didn’t look at their practices as being responsible for creating negative health outcomes. Clearly, it seemed, he wasn’t afraid to do so. I decided right then and there I needed to reach out.


‘Something’s not right’


Dr. Oosterhuis completed medical school at Sydney University, also training at the University of California, Davis, Medical Center and in Papua New Guinea. After completing his residency with rotations in internal medicine, cardiology, general surgery, neurosurgery and intensive care, he decided he liked critical care best. Anesthesiology was his preferred practice.


“I’ve seen more cardiac arrests than most people have had hot breakfasts,” he commented about his time in emergency medicine over the last three decades.


This explains why he was hyper-aware of what was happening in the world regarding COVID in hospitals long before he became labeled a public health threat. He comes at it from a critical care space.


At the start of his career 30 years ago, Paul believed the Australian system of medical care was the best. Clinicians could still observe, speculate and doubt about a patient’s condition and care, he told me. Hospitals were full of doctors, nurses and other health practitioners.


Over time, however, he began to see a shift. Hospitals became less occupied by medical experts and more occupied by administrators and bureaucrats.


“It drove me mad from the get-go, the never-ending increase in red tape and bureaucracy,” he said. “It all became more and more leftist, more and more ‘woke-ian’ over the last eight years or so.”


The first red flag came in 2016 when a sign on an operating door said that any physician without a flu shot had to wear a mask for the following 12 months. To him, it made no sense. He had looked at the literature and found no evidence that masks prevented influenza in emergency room departments.


On top of that, in 2015, he received the flu shot, not only ending up feeling terrible for one week afterward but also getting the worst flu of his life a few weeks after that. He wasn’t the least bit interested in trying it again.


“I couldn’t leave the bed. And then a few weeks later, I got the flu. And it was the worst flu I’ve ever had. So when I saw that notice on the operating door, I went, no. I’m going to look into this. There’s something not right here. It doesn’t add up.”


No matter, it seemed. Suddenly, all the hospital administration cared about was his vaccine status for his re-employment contract.


From there, the changes ramped up. Senior staff were being moved out of the decision-making tree. He started recognizing pollution in the journal space, conflicts of interest and questionable findings in published science. His faith in the scientific literature was being damaged. His faith in the medical system is even more so. All of it was causing him great concern.


So when COVID came, he was early to the question, “Why are the doctors and nurses falling sick in northern Italy?” Surely, he thought, they had to have good quality PPE (personal protection equipment) like they did in Australia. Didn’t they?


To avoid the same crisis in Australia, he began speaking out. In his mind, a lack of quality PPE was a bureaucratic failure. He pointed out that Italy may have failed to prepare, but Australia had time to do so.


He started by asking for quantitative fit testing of their masks. He suggested alternatives when they refused. Alas, it fell on deaf ears.


“I could see there was no openness to anything I was suggesting.”


In January 2020, he tweeted the prime minister that doctors were going to hardware stores to get effective PPE. He was adamant they work on this problem, that medical staff have a safe work environment.


And that’s when the online attacks against him began.


Amid those attacks, and after pointing out that strangely, no masks had been given to busy clinics where people from hot spots like Iran and China were coming from, his medical director suggested that perhaps he shouldn’t turn up for his next list (of patients) if he were going to keep this up.


Before he even had the chance to reply, however, he had to go into isolation. A nurse he worked with was diagnosed with COVID.


While in quarantine, Dr. Oosterhuis remained in contact with his fellow doctors and nurses, none of whom could get testing. When an email came from the medical director claiming everyone had been tested and all had been negative, he knew for a fact it was a bald-faced lie.


“I had lost trust in the system by then,” he said. “They were lying. They were not acting logically. They were not working on the problem. They were not listening to solutions that would work. Something was very wrong.”


And then, the coup d’état. He saw the NFR (not for resuscitation) and intubation orders and got a clear sense they were heading toward something very dystopian. The paranoia of viral contamination was so strong, that they were just going to let people die. No one would be getting CPR.


‘Like water on a raincoat’


To counter the insanity, Dr. Oosterhuis began aggressively researching treatment protocols. If they weren’t going to help prevent people from getting sick, at least they could treat them, he reasoned.


That’s when he discovered things like taking zinc, hydroxychloroquine, quercetin and vitamin D could have a powerful effect.


“The things they censored were very instructive,” he said. “The truth could be found in whatever that was.”


For most of 2021, he continued to follow the research and speak out, telling anyone who would listen about options for treatment. Eerily, however, it was like they couldn’t hear it. Long before Robert Malone talked openly about mass formation psychosis, he claims he could see and feel it for himself.


“It was truly bizarre. [Suggestions for treatment] would hit them like water on someone covered in a raincoat,” Dr. Oosterhuis said. “It rolled right off them.”


Alas, it soon began to make sense. The gene therapy injection was coming. The document from the regulators released in March of 2021 confirmed it. Only the vaccine, they insisted, would be able to save everyone.


By August, challenging that narrative would cost him his license.


‘Beyond the scope of authority’


During his suspension, Dr. Oosterhuis attended several protests alongside hundreds of thousands of fellow citizens. He went to one in Melbourne with a half million people. He went to another and marched on Parliament House in Sydney with a half million more. He even attended Australia’s trucker protest. They had one, too.


Although the press refused to cover the demonstrations fairly, he describes the cooperation and camaraderie of the people as nothing he had ever experienced. Everyone was so happy to know they weren’t alone, he told me.


“We had the sense we were living through history and felt sorry for the people captured by the narrative and living in fear. Human rights, bodily autonomy, informed consent — none of that seemed to matter to them.”


At the protests, several people suggested a legal brief he could take to the Australian Supreme Court to challenge the Medical Council’s decision and restore his medical license. He wasn’t going to be able to debate the merit of his social media posts, that much had been made clear.


But he was possibly going to be able to prove they didn’t follow the law in making their decision. The council had acted ultra vires, it seemed — or, beyond their powers.


He summoned the Supreme Court and Medical Council for judicial review, representing himself. Once again he found himself in his living room on a computer screen, this time in his pajama bottoms, with people trying to ruin his livelihood and reputation.


The first time around, he admits, he was nervous. By the 12th hearing, however, he was a warrior ready for battle. And on May 10, 2022, he emerged victorious. All anonymous complaints, and the suspension of his medical license, had been lifted. He had won his case.


Dr. Oosterhuis wasn’t entirely satisfied, however, as his true goal had been getting medical freedom back for all Australians. There was still work to do, he claimed. He had really hoped to get a ruling stating they had acted unlawfully, not just out of their jurisdiction. It would have overturned all suspensions — and potentially the regime of terror against doctors with it.


‘Give me my orders’


Paul now considers himself a soldier in the war for medical freedom. He sees himself as a part of the machine trying to get sanity back in science and to protect the public. In the environment of censorship and propaganda, he believes, you no longer have a democracy.

Informed consent becomes impossible.


We talked for well over an hour about the parallels of our journeys for the same things, and how even though he’s later to the party than me, he’s in it for life. He insists he won’t stop fighting until they stop injecting our kids.


He also admits he just wasn’t awake. He took all vaccines without question until his horrible experience with the flu shot in 2015. He has also had to reevaluate past practices and assumptions.


Having resuscitated many SIDS babies over the years he realized, “Never once had it crossed my mind to ask, ‘When was their most recent vaccination?’”


Likewise, he has dug deeply into the literature on vaccine safety, or rather, the lack thereof. He understands now how they manipulate and censor science if they don’t like the outcomes, specifically citing Paul Thomas and James Lyons-Weiler’s study of the vaccinated versus unvaccinated and how the publisher pulled it, not a doctor or scientist.


“They don’t like having control groups,” he said. “One of the most sinister agendas in this whole thing is they never study any of these agents versus a placebo control.”


He went further adding, “And we know why. Because it would show it’s an unmitigated disaster.”


Paul went on to describe just how deeply this experience has affected him personally. Besides the trauma of losing his medical license after a stellar record of 30 years in practice, and for social media posts nonetheless, it has helped him formulate a new personal philosophy.


“I personally will not have another vaccine in this body in this lifetime,” he told me.


“I had made an oath a year and a half ago that that was my decision,” said. “And so then the question was, how am I going to live in this world where they seem determined to inject every man, woman, child and animal on the planet with this thing? Like I say, I’m opposed to it. I’m a soldier. And I am opposed to it to my death.”


‘Real threat to the whole of humanity’


Dr. Oosterhuis hasn’t returned to the hospitals where he once worked. For one, they still have their vaccine mandates. And two, far too many of his colleagues have chosen to stay asleep, he feels. He can’t go back to it pretending none of this is real.


Instead, he spends his time now speaking out. In addition to being interviewed globally by people such as Steve Kirsch, Pierre Kory, and Peter McCullough, he has created a Substack with a substantial following. Topics have included the increase in the all-cause mortality signal; fraudulent PCR tests; and the shocking damage to fertility we see happening all over the world.

“In country after country, you see nine months after the roll out (of the vaccine), a collapse in birth rates, a massive increase in infertility, and problems with women’s cycles,” he said. “This is a real threat to the whole of humanity.”


He’s equally concerned about the power grab of the World Health Organization and other health agencies. When I commented that without liability, pharmaceutical companies have no incentive for restraint, he took it a step further. They don’t just lack an incentive for restraint, he countered. They are now incentivized to create disasters.


“It’s criminality that’s become an existential threat to humanity. We don’t have any choice but to push back.”


‘I hoped I was wrong’


From the very beginning, Paul insists that he wanted to be wrong. He wanted to be wrong about it all. He was simply putting questions out into the digital universe.


What if they tried a different mask? Where was the proper PPE? Why was there such resistance to treatment protocols? Why were they giving 24,000 students an experimental injection for a disease they’d never die from? None of it made any sense.


“I hoped I was wrong. I really did,” he said. “But within days I heard a report of a high school student who had died, and I heard there was going to be a service. Then there were other reports of deaths in the 24,000. At the time of my tweet, I prayed I was wrong. I would have been happy to be wrong. But my role was to put them on notice. I didn’t want them to be able to say, ‘we didn’t know.’ It’s on public record, they did.”


When top officials at the U.S. Food and Drug Administration resigned last year over the pressure to push for boosters, Paul says their parting letter didn’t pull any punches. The danger was not just to the credibility of the COVID-19 vaccine, these officials claimed, but to the credibility of all vaccines. Paul believes they are right, and that accountability is coming, even if it’s slow.


Meanwhile, his trust in the government, medicine, science, journalism and the media has been destroyed. He carries a sense of disgust that many of us have already carried for some time, and he is adamant that we have to rebuild our institutions from the ground up. We need true science, true integrity and an end to conflicts of interest.


“Public-private partnerships sound great until you put a jackboot on it,” he says.


Most of all, he insists, we need bodily autonomy.


“If we don’t have bodily autonomy, we are already enslaved.”


‘A coincidence theorist’


Paul tells me that he is not a conspiracy theorist but rather a coincidence theorist. I laugh, only because the name of my book, which he hadn’t known, is “An Unfortunate Coincidence: A Mother’s Life inside the Autism Controversy” (Skyhorse 2016).


Both of us notice the coincidences. When they become less and less probable, “you start to think, maybe this is the way reality actually works.”


We commiserate for a little while over the figurative costs of being in this fight, and how neither one of us could have ever imagined being a part of it, or really ever having needed to be.


Science was once sacred, I remind him. He agrees, but pushes back.


“The fight is here. It’s now,” he said. “The ultimate battle is here. And as big as the cost is of speaking out, the cost of not speaking out is exponentially larger. And the cost gets greater every day that passes.”


I am inspired again to pick up my proverbial sword. It has been almost six years since I have actively spoken out or regularly written anything. Fifteen years in the fight prior affected me in profoundly personal ways that required a reprieve.


And yet, I know he is right. The fight is here. It is time to get back in the ring. I thank him for reminding me of that and all he is doing.


“For decades, I have fought for everyone’s lives, and I’m still doing it. I’m not doing it in the operation theater, but I’m doing it on a different scale now. The only way you can protect those closest to you is to end this for everyone.”


Paul and I finish the conversation. It is late for me in Chicago while he is in Sydney. Once again, he is in his living room over a computer screen, in the same space where he lost his medical license and then took on the Australian Supreme Court to regain it.


In the same place he intends to save many more lives.


Even in his pajamas.

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