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Arrhythmia or my experience with treatment and cure

Arrhythmia or my experience with treatment and cure

"Medicine that regards only the physical body is too far removed from its primary mission, which is to heal men, because man is primarily a spiritual field."


I will gladly share my personal experience that saved my life. I gained it during my last visit in hospital to which I willy-nilly got when I was... But, let me start from the beginning.

Heart problems followed me from early childhood. Therefore, it was not the first time that I went to hospital. But, at that time I did not much understand that "difficult process of healing". I only know that doctors were trying to discover the cause of why I used to faint throughout my childhood and why my heart rate deviated sharply from its normal rhythm.

The reason why so many doctors "specialists" visited me at my bed is no big mystery to me now. They examined every part of my body , each individual organ. The doctors as if "segmented" my body and tried to treat each part individually. In doing so, they as if disregarded the whole as well as the possibility of finding the actual cause of the disease.

But, then, I perceived the situation quite differently. Unconsciously, fearing the doctors and their strict behaviour demanding respect.

Fear was my companion during my entire childhood. Fear to defy and speak my mind, fear of aggressiveness and severity that I often felt eventually became a matter of course. I got used to it. This habit gradually became a fine web and later it was an impenetrable wall that prevented me from seeing things realistically.

This fear was obviously the cause of my cardiac arrhythmia undiscovered by doctors. A medley of various emotions ranging from desperation to uncertainty that I unnaturally tried to suppress unbalanced the natural rhythm of my heart and then it began to pound wildly like a cornered prey.

What is on the inside will also show on the outside. But I didn’t see it that way as a child. I didn’t think about the fact that if you want good health it is necessary for the entire human being, that is the spirit, the soul and the physical body to be in perfect harmony, otherwise the disharmony inevitably acts upon the physical body and you fall ill.

As a child I had to endure several examinations every day during my stay in hospital, where I was moved from door to door, from one examination to another. I was released after a few weeks of hospitalization with a statement that the cause was undiscovered.

Years passed and my health condition was not improved in any way. I had a couple of nice moments, interlaced with the less agreeable, and also my first "love" came offering a solution for everything. But I was nevertheless controlled by fear, which was joined by the stress at work and since I was not strong enough inside I carried on disregarding that which weakened my heart more and more every day.

There were days when I was completely removed from life, because of my heart palpitations. In these moments, my heart rate reached up to 200 beats per minute. It often lasted even for 8 hours a day. I could feel my heart somewhere in my throat and had respiratory disorders. High blood pressure also set in. There were spells when I had many more days of heart palpitations than days when I could function normally. My heart constantly whispered to me to take a break, overcome anxiety, fear, and to lead a life whose pace would be natural to me. It was whispering to me to bring more joy into my life that comes from within a person and does not depend on life situations that need rushing.

My heart had been trying to tell me all this allegorically for years as it was showing to me with its undue rate how fast I was trying to live. Now I can see under what immense protection I was for all these years.

More than year has passed since my last visit in hospital. Yet this very visit was the crucial moment when I began to see things from a different angle.

For me, it was an ordinary day when I felt sick again. Tremendous heart palpitations accompanied by respiratory disorders. Nothing I had not experienced before, but still I decided to see a doctor. The physician sent me on the spot to a cardiologist where I got ECG test. The results disturbed even the cardiologist. My heart rate exceeded 160 beats per minute even after an hour. I didn’t even know it and I was connected to machines, with infusion in veins and a doctor telling me that had I been a few years older I would be dead.

I could hear the ambulance sirens. When gentlemen from rescue team appeared in the doorway with stretcher I quickly grasped that they came for me.

The pounding did not stop even after I received infusion. They gave me a heart massage in the ambulance to get the heart rate back to normal and I was also given some medicine. Nothing worked.

A moment later I was lying in bed in hospital, connected to machines and the examinations started again. Several doctor were by my bed. They kept looking at the machines that showed the activity of my heart. My condition remained unimproved even after two hours.

After some time, when I began to feel the urge to go to the toilet I kindly asked the attending doctor to disconnect me from the machines and let me go. She explained to me it was impossible, because of my condition and brought to me a chamberpot to use. I was in a large receiving room for patients with constant bustle around. Individual beds were divided only with sheets that either the doctors or the patients kept uncovering to see what was behind them. You can imagine it was not the best of places for doing what I needed to do. I struggled to do it, I really did try. Cramps and bellyache made me call the doctor. I asked her again to let me go, but she insisted. Thinking it’d help she pressed the lower part of my belly to relax my muscles. The incredible pressure nearly made me jump out of bed with a cry of pain. Suffering incredible pain I asked her yet again to let me go, saying it would surely relieve me and my condition would also improve. She scolded me and called me "a snotty spoiled kid". She said how I dare, she said that they know best what’s good for me.

This argument dragged for a few minutes when at last she disconnected me in anger. They put me into a wheelchair and finally after an hour I was carried away to the toilet. But before that I stopped by her. I told her politely that at times it would be good to also listen to the patient as the patient is the most important since it is he who is treated. It is good to hear what he feels, because the things shown by the machines and monitors are not the man himself, but behind this all there is something else hidden, our true nature - our "self" that knows best what it feels and what benefits it. I obviously took her breath away, because she couldn’t manage a word. When I returned I was reconnected to the machines. The doctor concerned, who came back to my bed, changed her approach completely. She was suddenly polite and kind, as if I had really spoken to her soul and she really thought about it. She visited me several times at my bed asking me if I needed anything.

But my condition was not improving. The heart rate was unchanged. They gave me another infusion, then another, more medication, yet they tried in vain for hours to stop my palpitations. On the contrary, my condition was getting worse! Even after receiving many "miraculous cures" guaranteed to save me. After four hours they didn’t know anymore whether to give me more medication or put something into my veins for the fourth time, since "the expected result" did not appear. The tension was now mounting not only in the doctors, but also in me. I felt kind of powerless and felt like getting rid of all these tubes, infusions, electrodes on the chest and limbs, simply everything and run away as far from here as possible.

When all "good practices" had failed I understood what would be best for me: leave the hospital. Even though I was supposed to be hospitalized for several days.

I informed the doctors that I wanted to sign the necessary documents and leave at my own risk.

As I had told them my request a circus started. First they wanted to fob me off saying it was inadmissible in my condition. Yes, I still had a heart rate of more than 160 beats per minute, but I felt worse than I had upon my admission. But still I insisted.

Another doctor came. Instead of offering me help and some encouraging words, which would definitely have been more appropriate, he made every effort to instill fear in me. I couldn’t take him seriously though, I found him ridiculous. His words did not touch me. Angry, but nevertheless convinced he was right, he wanted to "speak to my conscience" and with a downright suggestive voice he said that if I left I would definitely be back in the evening, but this time I’d end up in ICU care. He said that if I needed assistance after I had left at my own risk they wouldn’t provide it. I did not expect such threats to a patient from a doctor who had sworn an oath of helping the suffering.

When I had felt firsthand how doctors tried to instill fear in people that there is no other option of cure besides theirs I saw what I had been ignoring so far. Fear. They were afraid! But they didn’t fear for my health. They were afraid of failure that would make them admit their own powerlessness, afraid of not complying with the established procedures, afraid of losing the general trust of people to doctors, afraid of losing their job... and afraid of the truth that by giving drugs to the patients that only suppress the disease they often hurt more than help.

About an hour had passed and I could hear them bring the papers that I were to sign. Upon that moment, I felt great relief, my heart as if "switched over" and the palpitations stopped.

They disconnected me from the machines, gave me the documents for signing and released me with a prescription in hands for a "guaranteed cure." The doctor, who managed to change her approach, stopped by me and told me smiling that if I needed help after all they would definitely provide it.

I didn’t bother going to the pharmacy for the prescribed drugs. I decided to heal myself on my own.

People in my life didn’t know about my decision. I felt no need to listen to more reassurances that I’ll end up really bad if I don’t listen to the doctors.

The only person I could confide in was my boyfriend. He stood by me all the time and supported me. He helped me to find necessary information about herbs that really helped me when I was beginning to carry out my decision. He also recommended to me breathing exercises. But I was beginning to be completely healed only after I was gradually becoming aware of what was the real cause of my disease. I was consciously receiving every hint from within and felt exactly what situations put me off balance. In these situations, I was consciously trying to breathe deeply and calm myself completely. It worked every time and everything I couldn’t handle up till then was now a game for me in which I had absolute control. Each life situation was a school to me that was making me a more conscious being, capable of living without fear.

But my faith that it would really happen deserves most credit for my becoming healed. I believed I could do it and that’s what really saved me. Had I given in to fear and doubts I would never have been able to do it. I know it now, because I experienced it and personally got convinced that it really works that way.

Faith in spiritual abilities of man became part of my life. I came to understand that everyone has a key to health in his own hands. My restoration is a proof to me that everyone has responsibility for his own health. Responsibility that cannot be passed on to doctors.



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