The Venturi Effect, Cardiovascular Insufficiency, and the Puzzle of Pneumonia

Here's A Speculative Exploration Of Pneumonia

A Pilot's Lesson in Fluid Dynamics

I first encountered the Venturi Effect at 16, while training for my private pilot's licence in New Zealand. For a brief, proud moment, I was the country's youngest pilot — a title that fuelled my fascination with how things work. My instructor explained how the Venturi Effect lifts a plane's wing: air speeds up over the curved surface, dropping pressure to pull us aloft. He also explained how aviation sensors, like those for wind speed, harness this principle, using tubes with openings on the fuselage to measure the sucking effect of wind flow, as it rushes by.

That lesson stuck with me, and now, as a health practitioner, I find myself wondering if this same interplay of fluid dynamics could tie cardiovascular insufficiency — like hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (hcm)—to blood flow glitches in the lungs, fluid buildup, and even pneumonia. Since COVID-19 and the spike protein vaccines emerged, I've noticed a most unusual surge in pneumonia cases, often untethered from typical triggers like influenza. Infections follow naturally, but I suspect a deeper story. Let me share my speculative journey.

The Venturi Effect Within the Body

The Venturi Effect describes how a fluid — be it air or blood — speeds up through a tight space, lowering pressure in its wake. Pinch a hose, and the water jets out faster. It's the same idea. But here's where I've been rethinking things: in a healthy heart, blood flows briskly through the lungs, and I suspect the Venturi Effect plays a role there too. As blood moves swiftly through the pulmonary capillaries, the speed creates a subtle suction, wicking fluid away from the delicate alveoli — the tiny air sacs where oxygen swaps places with carbon dioxide. In HCM, or any condition weakening the heart, the heart's overall pumping power fades, and the speed of blood through the lungs drops. With a weaker Venturi Effect, that suction falters, and fluid starts to linger in the lung tissue instead of being pulled away. Over time, this buildup — what we call pulmonary oedema — taxes the system, a pressure dynamic I first grasped as a teenage pilot, now playing out in flesh and blood.

This video explains the Venturi Effect and think about how this creates a suction effect in the lungs as the blood flow speeds up as it enters the tiny cailliaries of the lungs and then slows as it leaves the lungs, oxygen-rich, draining into larger blood vessels, back to the left side of the heart to then be pumped around the body. By the way, similar effects happen everywhere in the body where there are capillaries and there's poor or sluggish flow. For example, this may, in part, explain fluid build-up in the legs.

When the Lungs Get Soggy

A faltering heart, struggling to push blood forward, slows the whole pulmonary circulation — the network ferrying blood through the lungs for oxygen. In HCM or other heart failure scenarios, this sluggishness reduces that vital suction I mentioned. Fluid seeps into the alveoli, leaving the lungs wet and gasping. This accumulation is the seed of pneumonia — not yet the infectious kind, but a breathless discomfort begging for trouble. That fluid is a perfect Petri dish, though — ideal for growing bacteria, yeast, fungi, or viruses. What starts as a mechanical hiccough can turn microbial fast, and when it does, pneumonia can shift from a nagging issue to life-threatening within hours.

Uneven Flow and Hidden Risks

Blood flow through the lungs isn't just about volume — it's about maintaining that healthy pace. If a weakened heart slows the flow, disrupting the Venturi Effect's suction, the lungs might not clear fluid evenly. Some patches could stagnate while others struggle, weakening natural defences like the cilia that sweep out debris. This unevenness could prime the lungs for infections that seem to strike out of nowhere, turning a slow drip into a full-blown crisis.

The Spike Protein and Mitochondrial Damage

Now, here's what's nagging me: since COVID-19 and the spike protein vaccines arrived, pneumonia cases have surged in my practice, and they don't always follow the script. I'd expect influenza or a cold to kick things off, but many seem to start elsewhere — infections tagging along after the fact.

I'm seeing convincing evidence that the spike protein — whether from the vaccine or the infection — is causing lasting damage to the mitochondria, those delicate organelles that are, incidentally, inherited from your mother! This goes to the very heart of explaining what we're seeing, especially heart dysfunction and related conditions like pneumonia. Mitochondria are the powerhouses of our cells, tirelessly churning out energy in the form of ATP — adenosine triphosphate — by burning oxygen and nutrients through a process called cellular respiration. In heart muscle cells, they're the unsung heroes keeping the pump strong and steady.

This chart that follows is of lab tests showing the difference between healthy and unhealthy mitochondria. By the way, anyone who feels that they may have suffered harm from any of the COVID vaccines, or have lingering post-infection symptoms (Long COVID), should have this test done (contact me for details).

Spike protein, be it from the infection or the vaccine, I suspect, throws a wrench in this delicate machinery. It might infiltrate cells and stress the mitochondria, disrupting their membranes, or gumming up their energy production — through inflammation or oxidative damage. When these maternal gifts falter, the heart weakens, losing its vigour.

That sluggish blood flow I mentioned earlier? It could stem straight from this mitochondrial hit, amplifying the loss of that Venturi suction and setting off the cascade to fluid-filled lungs.

A Perfect Storm Brewing

Picture it: a heart losing steam because its cellular engines — those precious maternal mitochondria — are sputtering, blood flow lagging, lungs swamped with fluid, and then a bug seizing its chance. It's a perfect storm.

https://www.garymoller.com/post/understanding-the-perfect-storm

I lack hard proof — yet — but the patterns I'm seeing demand questions. Are we witnessing a new pneumonia breed, born not from germs but from physics, physiology, and a modern twist from COVID's legacy? That teenage revelation about the Venturi Effect — learned in the cockpit and reinforced by tools like those fuselage sensors — keeps resurfacing, now layered with this mitochondrial angle. Could it be a quiet thread, weaving spike protein-induced heart woes into lung collapse in ways we're only beginning to untangle?

Charting the Unknown

For now, it's a hypothesis — a spark from observation and a lifelong itch to connect the dots. But as these cases mount, I'm convinced there's more to explore. The body, like an aircraft, thrives on balance, and sometimes, a subtle shift — like a lost suction or a damaged organelle — can lift it up or send it crashing. I'm still charting the course, one thought at a time.