AstraZeneca Stock Rating Reaffirmed by Jefferies Group (AZN)

One Response to “AstraZeneca Stock Rating Reaffirmed by Jefferies Group (AZN)”

1. Carlene Bragg says:

   March 17, 2013 at 1:55 pm

   While all of you rich folks are hob-nobbing and celebrating your financial success, in no small part due to AZ., I thought it would be appropriate to let you see just what a financial and physical burden it lays on the victims of Seroquel to carry. I hope every ounce of it is squarely on each of your shoulders. Funny that there is no web address for AstoZenica on line for folks like me to carry our problmes to. All of this happened to and is STILL happening to, ME!!!
   This was going to be sent to AZ but since they don’t have a complaint line, I will let you folks decide for yourselves about AZ’s fortunes:

   “Seroquel. Multi. surgeries, hospitalizations, diabetes, disability, and last but not least, YOU PROVIDING ME, FREE OF CHARGE, Seroquel, even after I told your telephone representative AND YOUR ON-STAFF NURSE WHAT WAS HAPPENING TO ME AND HER/YOUR FAILURE TO WARN ME ABOUT YOUR PRODUCT AND WHAT IT’S DONE TO THOUSANDS OF OTHER PEOPLE JUST LIKE ME!
   From:Carlene Bragg
   PO BOX 174

   14748 NC HWY 53 West

   White Oak, NC 28399

   To AstraZeneca

   Attention: Legal Department Head

   Dear Sir or Madam:

   After years of suffering mentally with continuous, racing thoughts day and night, year after year, Seroquel came into my life. When it had built up in my system and started to work, I truly believed that I had a place that I could call “home” in my own brain again. I thought someone had finally thrown me a lifeline and had given me a peace that I never believed I would enjoy again. I called it my “refuge;” this new found peace in my brain, where the thoughts in my head had slowed from the blinding speed as fast as flashes of lightening with multiple thoughts bouncing off of my inner skull in a frenzy, each thought demanding it be addressed first by violently colliding with another; yet were finally soothed by Seroquel, where my brain eased back to the pace of a brisk walk in the park that put me back in sync with my family, friends, co-workers, and my church family. My prayers had been answered.

   There was joy while I was spending my re-born brain’s life with my family, when I could finally carry on a conversation without deviating to some odd-ball topic. When I went to bed, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, instead of having thoughts spinning around so rapidly because my brain would refuse to shut up and go to sleep. The memory of my brain’s incessant prodding had finally been silently whisked away by the blissfulness of stillness in my cranium. With Seroquel, I went from someone who could talk a hundred miles a minute to being someone who could sit and listen patiently, absorbing everything that was being said by someone else and actually being able to answer back. Being able to do that was a huge milestone in my life.

   Peace had been granted.

   Then all Hell broke out. I had been prescribed Seroquel at least eight years ago, if not longer and I was led to believe that Seroquel is a very safe drug and it did help me enormously…until it turned against me.

   I have learned that Seroquel is highly likely to blame for my severe, chronic, debilitating pancreatic illnesses (and the surgeries to correct that and then the surgeries to correct complications of that and then the surgeries to repair the humongous (11 inches by 14 inch) hernia that they have tried three times to repair, due in no small part to the repeated invasive surgeries I have had to endure.) that have lasted for over three years. I have had so many attacks of excruciatingly painful, severe pancreatitis attacks (with pancreatic and liver enzymes so high that my very life was on the line) they’ve caused me to loose count. There were multiple hospitalizations just to manage the attacks that I have been suffered through. I have also lost track of how many times I have had to be sedated while stints were placed in my pancreas. I don’t know how many CT scans, PET scans, ultra sounds, blood tests,or x-rays have been taken. Feeding tubes have had to placed; both through my nose and permanently implanted through my abdominal wall to allow the pancreas more than enough time to heal before ruling in more surgeries. I have had to endure multiple PICC line placements because I have had so many regular IV’s that those veins won’t even co-operate any more. Add to that, yet another surgery when I had to have a port-a-cath implanted in my chest when PICC lines became unfeasible. I can’t even come close to counting the number of surgeries on one hand anymore where the surgeons tried destperately to save bits of my pancreas. There have been quite a few. In one of the surgeries, the surgeons tried to fashion a pouch from a small length of my intestines, to be able to salvage the tiny bit of secretions from the small remnant of my pancreas, but that too, had to be removed in yet another surgery. I have also had admissions for dehydration, and poor nutrition. And how many days spent as an in-patient? I’d have to guess at least 60 days (a conservative figure, I think.) Just how many doctors I’ve seen is unknown completely. Then there’s the hospital admission when my blood sugar was well over 700 because I was sick and couldn’t get the blood sugar low enough (directly related to my pancreas not making insulin because the Seroquel ruined my pancreas.)(The ambulance’s blood glucose machine wasn’t even able to detect a blood sugar that high as they were emergently transferring me to a hospital.) Bit by bit my pancreas has had to be removed because of the severity of the damage wrought by the Seroquel.) I won’t even hazard a guess as to how many trips I have had to make to Duke Hospital, each of which is a two and a half hour drive one way, averaging traveling up there every three weeks. My car seems to know exactly where to go. It’s 13 years old. I don’t know how many more trips like that it can endure.

   Since the vast majority of my pancreas was removed over several surgeries, (my most recent surgery was just a few months ago.) Seroquel is directly related to causing surgically induced diabetes, my life now depends on a minimum of five shots a day of two different insulins, the doses being established by what my glucose level is when I prick myself five times a day to get the blood tested to go by.

   I have not been able to work in three years between the frequent pancreatitis, the constant horrific nausea and the ever-present pain. I was forced to apply for Medicare to be able to survive after I maxed out on Medicaid. I had to spend my life savings because of this. I am broke and living hand to mouth, and I have to live with the fact that a medicine that I thought was safe (Seroquel) has brought me to my knees physically, emotionally and financially. I am not taking some of my life saving medicines because I simply cannot afford them. Programs to help folks like me deem me unhelpful because I make $77.00 too much a month in disability for their assistance.

   Financially? Yeah, I’ll save that one for another day.

   I rattle when I walk because of all medications I have to take because my pancreas is now just a tiny stub of flesh, it’s counterparts removed in a string of surgeries in an effort to keep me alive, is just sitting there now, utterly useless. Medications like Creon 36,000 units with each meal to help aid digestion, and 24,000 units if I have a snack. Reglan, four times a day to increase motility. (Note that one of my doctors is in the process of ruling out Reglan as the cause of a tentative diagnosis of tardive dyskinesia due to the Reglan.) I take, depending on my pain level, everything from Neurontin to Motrin to Norco to oxycodone to Dilaudid. I will never wish that type of pain on anyone. EVER. There are a lot of other medicines, but pharmacy records can sum them up with a mere key punch. Month before last I was even overdrawn at my bank because I HAD to have some pain relief. Usually at the end of the month I am barely squeaking by, managing to stave off financial ruin by doing without things like Band-Aids, milk and bread. For quite a while the vast majority of sustenance for me is a can of Glucerna three times a day. Wal-Mart sells six cans for $10.00. You figure out how much that costs a month. Almost every food I have tried to eat comes back up. (Despite taking Phenergan, Zofran and Marinol.) I tried to go without them, but all I did was vomit for four days straight, forcing me to return to all the anti-emetics. Some life, huh?

   My most recent trip to Duke Hospital was a couple months ago for a post-op check up and my labs still reflects high white blood cells and some electrolytes are still off. Liver function is minimally off balance. I stay exhausted all the time and my mental health has taken a massive blow. My pre-Seroquel thought processes are back and hinder me 24 hours a day. Just writing this letter has taken me four hours so far. Sometimes I feel like I am circling the drain. Some days I wish someone would just pull the plug and let me go down that drain.

   Your company manufacturers Seroquel and you were providing me the Seroquel for free as I could not afford it. I made it a point to thank your representative on the phone every single time I called to reorder. I was so thankful that someone cared enough to let me get the medicine I needed so badly, without any strings attached. However, one time when I called for my monthly refill order, one of the representatives routinely and politely asked me how I was doing and I mentioned that I had been having trouble with my pancreas, told her about all of my symptoms, everything. That resulted in me being transferred to a nurse on staff, and I was asked to repeat everything to her. I gave her complete, detailed accounts of just how sick I was. I mean I told EVERYTHING, to the smallest degree. I was told by the nurse that she was writing down everything to put in my file. She did not mention a single thing about other people having some of the same issues I was having, so I did not even think to ask her if I should be worried about the Seroquel. I continued to receive monthly supplies of Seroquel with no further information asked of me and certainly no information provided to me on the risks of me continuing the Seroquel. No follow-up calls were made to me to check on my progress.

   It was also never revealed to me that there have been a multitude of pancreatic problems in other patients taking Seroquel. During that time frame, had I been informed by you of the pancreatic adverse reactions occurring repeatedly involving Seroquel, I may have had a chance to prevent further damage to my pancreas and could possibly have completely avoided even a single blood draw. Instead, your and the rest of your staff failed to inform me as a consumer that there’s a significant probability that Seroquel could have been the cause of my failing health, thus I have paid the ultimate price due to your negligence. Had your company acted in a manner of protecting the public, a far better outcome would have come to pass for everyone, including your company. I was eventually taken off Seroquel by a doctor at Duke Hospital. Too little, too late.

   The future of my health is not looking good at all right now. “Happy and Healthy,” are definitely not in my vocabulary. Instead, I am side-lined by something that turned my body toxic and your company knowingly turned it’s collective back on me. You knew what could be happening yet you allowed it continue. I find that inexcusable, deceitful and shows a complete lack of any common sense or morals. Those in the medical field are bound by an oath to do no harm.

   Why the nurse did not inform me of the dangerous findings about Seroquel, that you so clearly knew about, is beyond me. It’s also inexcusable, deceitful and lacks any common morals. Those in the medical field take the oath to do no harm.

   Well, I was harmed. Badly.

   We can either handle this as adults and have it over with quickly (I’ll be glad to gather up all my medical records from three hospitals, multiple specialist and and a wheel barrow full of charts from DUKE HOSPITAL, or we can go to court and handle it that way. I will leave that up to you and yours. My address is at the top of this letter. You can reach me with it. I shall anticipate a prompt answer or I will pass this information to the first lawyer I can find and you will be able to get multiple reams of hospital, doctor and ambulance reports from him or her instead of me.

   Sincerely,

   Carlene Bragg

   Date of Birth 5/25/1958

   SSN 241-15-8270

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