Name of Victim: Lendle D. Stockstill
Age of Victim: 48
Sex of Victim: Male
What Is This Testimony About: Hospital Protocol Death
State: OK
Name of Hospital(s) victim was admitted to (List All that apply): SSM Health Shawnee OK
Did the victim survive? No
Date of Death: 09/28/2021
Contact Name: Rhonda Stockstill
Relationship to Victim: Wife
Was the victim a military Veteran? No
Was the victim considered special needs, or did they have any kind of disability? No
Was the victim admitted to the hospital? Yes
County Hospital is located in: pottawottamie
Date Admitted: 09/17/2021
Was the victim isolated at any time during hospitalization? Yes
Does the victim or family feel they were treated differently by hospital staff as a result of disclosing their vaccination status? Yes
Was the victim or family pressured to sign a Do Not Resuscitate? No
Was the victim physically restrained? No
Was the victim deprived of food and water while in the hospital? Yes
Was victim placed on a ventilator? Yes
What medications were administered to the victim by doctors or hospital staff? Albuterol, Antibiotics, Anxiety Medications, Ativan, Azithromycin, Lovenox, Morphine, Oxygen, Pain Killers, Paralytics, Propofol, Remdesivir, Sedatives, Vancomycin
What medications did the hospital explicitly refuse to administer to the victim? Budesonide, Hydroxychloroquine, Ivermectin, Regeneron, all front-line doctors protocol meds.
Has this incident been reported to any agency such as VAERS, HHS, JACHO, Medical Board or others? no
Place of Death: Hospital
Would you be interested in participating in podcasts or other media? Yes

When Protocol Replaces Care: Lendle’s Story

Lendle D. Stockstill was just 48 years old—a husband, a man in the prime of his life, someone who should have had decades ahead of him. To his wife, Rhonda, he wasn’t just a name on a chart or a patient in a room. He was her partner, her stability, her life.

In September of 2021, Lendle was admitted to SSM Health in Shawnee, Oklahoma. What began as a hospital visit quickly became something far more troubling—something Rhonda would later come to understand as a system that seemed to follow a pattern, not of healing, but of harm.

From the moment he was admitted, the foundation of their fight was taken away: they were separated.

Lendle was isolated from Rhonda—cut off from the very person who knew him best, who could advocate for him, who could question what was being done. This isolation wasn’t just physical. It created a barrier to truth, to transparency, and to accountability.

Inside those hospital walls, Lendle’s condition began to decline. But instead of open collaboration with the family, Rhonda experienced something many others have described—a growing sense that decisions were being made for them, not with them.

Despite requests for alternative treatments widely discussed and used by front-line doctors—those treatments were refused. Medications like ivermectin, hydroxychloroquine, and others were not allowed, dismissed outright without meaningful discussion.

Instead, Lendle was placed on a rigid treatment path.

He was given a combination of powerful drugs, including remdesivir, sedatives, and eventually medications used for deep sedation and paralysis. These are not minor interventions. They suppress the body, shut down normal responses, and often remove a patient’s ability to communicate, advocate, or even breathe independently.

As his treatment escalated, so did the level of control.

Rhonda learned that Lendle had been deprived of food and water—a devastating detail that raises serious questions about basic care. Nutrition and hydration are fundamental human needs. Their absence is not just neglect—it can accelerate decline.

Then came one of the most critical turning points: ventilation.

Once placed on a ventilator, Lendle was no longer able to speak for himself. Sedated, restrained chemically by medications, and completely dependent on hospital staff, his fate was no longer in his own hands—or Rhonda’s.

Throughout this process, Rhonda also felt that Lendle was treated differently because he was unvaccinated. That perception—shared by countless families—adds another layer to the story: one of discrimination, where medical decisions may have been influenced not just by condition, but by status.

Over the course of just eleven days—from September 17 to September 28—Lendle’s life slipped away.

Eleven days.

That’s all it took for a man who walked into a hospital to never walk out again.

He died alone, in a hospital room, without the comfort of his wife by his side.

A Pattern Too Familiar to Ignore

What Rhonda witnessed was not random. It followed a pattern that has emerged across thousands of testimonies:

· Isolation from family and advocates

· Refusal of alternative or early treatments

· Administration of powerful sedatives and protocol-driven drugs

· Escalation to ventilation

· Withholding of basic care like nutrition and hydration

· Limited communication and lack of transparency

These are not isolated events. They are repeated elements in story after story—raising serious concerns about systemic failures and the abandonment of patient-centered care.

The Aftermath: Grief, Questions, and a Search for Truth

For Rhonda, the loss of Lendle did not end when his life did.

It marked the beginning of a painful journey—one filled with unanswered questions, with medical records that need to be reviewed, with decisions that don’t make sense, and with a lingering feeling that something went terribly wrong.

Like so many others, she was left to piece together what happened—after the fact—without the ability to intervene when it mattered most.

Why These Stories Matter

Stories like Lendle’s are not just personal tragedies. They represent something much larger—a breakdown of trust in the very institutions meant to protect and heal.

These are egregious crimes against humanity that must be exposed, acknowledged, and stopped.

That is why Betrayal Project USA exists.

Betrayal Project is a victim-led organization built by widows, widowers, survivors, and families who have lived through similar loss. They are providing a platform for voices like Rhonda’s to be heard—voices that were silenced in hospital rooms across the country.

Their mission is clear: to document these stories, pursue accountability, demand reform, and build a community of support for those who have suffered institutional betrayal.

Because justice begins with truth—and truth begins with telling these stories.