My Mission
I'm fighting for my rights so you and your children don't have to. Children don't need drugs—they need hugs, attention, and adults who listen. When we let hospitals turn our kids into profit centers, we fail as a society.
This case isn't just about me. It's about every parent who's been told their active child needs medication. Every teenager labeled "defiant" for questioning authority. Every person whose pain was easier to drug than understand.
Maybe if I can fix this world, I'll change my opinion about having kids. But for now, I couldn't bring a child into a world where asking for help gets you beaten, drugged, and ignored while having seizures.
The Three Stones
I'm Eric Andrew Stone, but my Boy Scout father called me Pebble—the youngest of three brothers nicknamed Boulder, Stone, and Pebble based on our sizes. A family raised on camping trips, honor codes, and the belief that help comes when you need it. That belief nearly killed me.
February 3, 2018: The Last Free Ride
I'd been longboarding the same mountain trail 3-4 times a week since 7th grade. That day, I decided to add an extra half-mile. Before heading out, I made a sarcastic video toast: "Here's to hopefully a successful ride, and if not, you'll see me in the hospital or the morgue."
Dark humor about extreme sports. Not a suicide note. Not a cry for help. Just a 22-year-old making a joke before doing something I'd done thousands of times.
The gravel had other plans. I crashed, hit my head, got visible injuries down my entire right side. Classic concussion, obvious road rash. But that video—edited by someone who already disliked me, context removed, shown to my father 24-36 hours later—would become the excuse to destroy my life.
The Deputy Who Couldn't Spell
Deputy Morales arrives for a welfare check. I was completely sober after my longboarding accident. In the backyard, the deputy told me to relieve myself outside. When I turned to face him while he was talking—basic human respect—I accidentally urinated on him. This was a classic concussion symptom: loss of bladder control with spatial disorientation. But he never documented that part. Just his anger.
AMR's own report shows me sitting calmly in the front yard without the deputy needing to restrain me. I had moved from the backyard to the front yard freely. Yet AMR applied 5-point restraints to someone sitting peacefully. This excessive restraint proved they already knew about the incoming 5150 and that I was resisting transport from the start. No immediate danger existed—the deputy let me walk unrestrained from backyard to front.
After being forced into the ambulance with 5-point restraints, I eventually made them stop at a red light and exited. I then ran a quarter mile. Try explaining how someone "extremely intoxicated" can navigate traffic and run 1,320 feet without falling. The truth? I had a concussion, and every symptom the deputy documented—confusion, disorientation, unusual behavior—perfectly matches traumatic brain injury, not intoxication.
The Profitable Pipeline: San Antonio to Canyon Ridge
San Antonio Hospital "simply played parrot to the cop." No real evaluation with a qualified professional—just an Emergency Department visit. They ordered X-rays and CT scans, but didn't listen to me or my story. They didn't care that I had visible injuries from a longboarding accident. They already had a destination planned for me.
All they did was rubber-stamp the deputy's assessment and prepare me for transfer to where the real money was made: Canyon Ridge Hospital. No psychiatric evaluation. No consideration of my concussion. Just process and profit.
At $1,800 per day, Canyon Ridge had nearly $100 million in annual motivation to transform medical emergencies into psychiatric imprisonments. I was worth $12,600 for 8 days. They didn't even give me a discount for arriving partway through February 5th.
The Pattern: Fighting Since 14
This wasn't my first time dealing with psychiatric abuse. I've been fighting this system since I was 14 years old. After my 2012 stay at Canyon Ridge, I drew a skull and later had it tattooed on my chest with "5150" on its forehead—my promise of "never again."
The tragic irony? The tattoo I created as a symbol of survival, as a promise to avoid that exact hospital, became their excuse to see me as a profitable repeat customer. As I said then: "They eventually got their greedy hands on this young profit center."
The Fraud: Manufacturing Non-Compliance
I told intake nurse J.D. about my Haldol allergy. She said "uh-huh, alright" then wrote "No Known Drug Allergies." When they forcibly injected me with Haldol despite my warning, I had seizures and respiratory distress—exactly what I told them would happen.
I asked for my attorney. They said no. I asked for a manager. They said no. I walked to my room to de-escalate. They attacked me from behind at 18:15, forcibly injected me with drugs I was allergic to, applied restraints, then claimed I attacked them.
Just 5 minutes after drugging and restraining me, they made their first documented re-attempt to get my signature at 18:20 (they had already tried during intake). They would attempt multiple more times that night, even as I was having seizures from the Haldol they forced on me. I refused to sign anything—how could I when they were questioning my competency and I was drugged out of my mind from medication they knew I was allergic to?
10:07 AM: Medication ordered for 9:00 PM (10 hours 40 minutes later)
10:16 AM: F.C. acknowledges the order
10:20 AM: F.C. declares me "non-compliant" with medication
They gave me 13 minutes to be non-compliant with medication not due for 10 hours and 40 minutes. This impossible timeline was used to justify extending my hold.
Every single day, treatment notes state I was "compliant with medication." Yet they used "medication non-compliance" to justify the extended hold. It's like citing someone for speeding while their car is parked.
The Cost: Everything
What They Gained vs. What I Lost
- Their 8-day profit: $12,600
- My Second Amendment rights: LIFETIME BAN
- Job at Bass Pro Shops: TERMINATED
- Ability to teach nephew shooting: STOLEN FOREVER
- Trust in medical system: DESTROYED
- Faith in having children: GONE
The Cover-Up: 158 Days of Obstruction
When I requested my medical records to prove this fraud, Canyon Ridge ignored me for 158 days—violating California's 15-day law. When they finally produced documents, someone had scanned them at 3:00 AM on January 10, 2025, just 72 hours before our court hearing about document preservation.
The medication refusal stamps present in my 2012 records? Mysteriously absent from 2018. Not removed—the entire protocol had been eliminated. They changed their system to remove patients' ability to document medication refusal, enabling forced drugging for profit.
The Cover-Up Continues: 2025
Evidence Destruction Accelerates
- • UHSINC private EMAIL thomas.cooper3@uhsinc.com removed from email chain after firearm inquiry
- • 310 pages (48.8%) vanished between February and April productions
- • Website redesigned to destroy August 2024 contact logs
- • Documents split and reorganized to hide removal
Desperate Legal Maneuvers
- • Attorney tried to get protection order preventing Medical Board complaint
- • Attorney tried to get protection order preventing State Bar complaint
- • Judge DENIED both attempts to silence legitimate oversight
- • Defense claims they "never received" critical motions
What They Accidentally Revealed
- • 2012 records show medication refusal stamps existed
- • 2018 records contain zero refusal documentation
- • They eliminated patient consent protocols between stays
- • Their attempt to overwhelm with documents backfired
This Is My Fight
From the youngest Stone brother to the plaintiff exposing a $98 million fraud machine. This isn't about money—it's about making sure no other Pebble gets crushed by a system that sees concussions as profit opportunities.
See The Evidence Join The Fight