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The book "Body chaos - when the body suddenly goes crazy" begins with the appearance of mysterious symptoms. This is followed by the struggle with conventional medicine and the description of the path to self-responsibility in order to get a grip on the body that has gone crazy. On her path of suffering, the author learns about and appreciates naturopathic methods and thus comes to her own autonomy of her health. The book is a detective story in the form of a diary and is built up in a linear fashion from the wealth of knowledge concerning medicine and naturopathic procedures. It is complemented by explanatory boxes on the physiology of the human body, biochemistry, the hormonal system and naturopathic procedures such as dark field microscopy, kinesiology and influences from environmental toxins.______Das Buch "Körperchaos - wenn der Körper plötzlich verrücktspielt" beginnt mit dem Auftreten mysteriöser Symptome. Es folgen der Kampf mit der Schulmedizin und die Beschreibung des Weges in die Eigenverantwortung, um den verrückt gewordenen Körper in den Griff zu bekommen. Auf ihrem Leidensweg lernt die Autorin naturheilkundliche Verfahren kennen und schätzen und gelangt so in die eigene Autonomie ihrer Gesundheit. Das Buch ist eine Detektivgeschichte in Form eines Tagebuches und baut sich linear des Wissensschatzes bezüglich Medizin und naturheilkundlichen Verfahren auf. Ergänzend sind erklärende Kästchen zur Physiologie des menschlichen Körpers, der Biochemie, des Hormonsystems und naturheilkundlichen Verfahren wie der Dunkelfeldmikroskopie, Kinesiologie und Einflüsse aus Umweltgiften.
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Seitenzahl: 336
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
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Christina Ellermann
Body Chaos
When the body suddenly goes crazy
© 2023 Christina Ellermann
Website: www.naturheilpraxis-kgs.de
Druck und Distribution im Auftrag der Autorin:
tredition GmbH, Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Deutschland
Das Werk, einschließlich seiner Teile, ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Für die Inhalte ist die Autorin verantwortlich. Jede Verwertung ist ohne ihre Zustimmung unzulässig. Die Publikation und Verbreitung erfolgen im Auftrag der Autorin, zu erreichen unter: Christina Ellermann, Saarlandstr. 4, 76187 Karlsruhe, Germany.
The book “Body Chaos – when the body suddenly goes crazy” is a personal account of experiences and is not intended as a guide to healing procedures, self-diagnosis or the treatment of illnesses. If you are suffering from a disease, please consult a doctor or alternative practitioner.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Foreword
Chapter 1 - Psychosomatic?
Chapter 2 - like in a Madhouse
Chapter 3 - the Horror Never Ends
Chapter 4 - Causal Research
Chapter 5 - New Ways
Chapter 6 - Always in a Circle
Chapter 7 - Blow by Blow
Chapter 8 - Taking Matters into Our Own Hands
Chapter 9 - Upwards
Chapter 10 - New Year - New Happiness
Addendum
Acknowledgements
Glossary
Internet Recommendations
Body Chaos
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Foreword
Foreword
Glossary
Internet Recommendations
Body Chaos
Cover
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Foreword
Body chaos - a "textbook" and an "encouragement book"!
Christina Ellermann has been through an odyssey with our orthodox medical system in recent years. She describes her personal path through the maze of doctors in our health system in an exciting, clear and, for me, extraordinarily comprehensible way. For her, this system repeatedly came to its limits with the words "End of the line psychosomatics". Does this sound familiar to you and is that why you are holding this book in your hand? I was allowed to accompany Christina on her way as part of my educational work on the topic of Breast Implant Illness. This was also part of Christina's illness. I was able to support her in this area with my knowledge and thank her for her trust.
For me, Christina Ellermann has written both a wonderful textbook and a book of encouragement. She shows how essential it is for doctors to listen attentively to a patient and to take him seriously. We are an organism that must be understood and treated holistically in its complexity and sensitivity. Isolated evaluations of laboratory values and a limited view of one's own area of expertise, i.e. only individual organs or parts of the body, can rarely lead to a holistic treatment and recovery of a living being. Rather, in my opinion, what happens here is mostly only medicinal symptom suppression, but not healing. This is not to reproach all the caring and interested orthodox doctors who try their best in a health system where only a few minutes of time per patient are available. But it should, in my view, encourage people not to erroneously diagnose patients as "out of treatment" or "untreatable", or even as "mentally ill", to whom this does not apply. Rather, it is my understanding that a medical professional should recognise his or her own limitations and communicate this honestly to his or her patient. I congratulate patients whose practitioners have the time and interest to acquire further knowledge in order to be able to help. Especially in the case of rare diseases or diseases that have not yet been recognised, which are often "non-existent" for a large part of conventional medicine, it is extremely difficult for patients to find support and help. I can confirm this from my own painful experience and years of working with people affected by Breast Implant Illness. Many people go through years of suffering, despair, anxiety, depression, wrong medication and do not find a cure.
And here I like the other important aspect that Christina Ellermann points out in her book: Where a supposed limit is set for you, where you are diagnosed with a "somatisation disorder" or similar, but you feel very clearly that the problem is not between your ears: move on! Go on your way and look for doctors, alternative practitioners or other people who can help you to see and understand your whole system, your whole body. Christina Ellermann points out what we know from our educational work: Look outside the box, do research, question boundaries that are set for you, listen to your intuition when it tells you something is wrong in your body. Find a network that supports you on your healing journey, connect with other sufferers on social media platforms. The frequent accusation that people read about their symptoms there first is rarely true. Rather, networking supports sufferers who have been in the dark for years before. Understand that you are rarely a one-off. Don't accept the "can't be helped" pigeonhole you may be put in, but keep looking. Look for ways beyond conventional medicine when it is necessary, when it reaches its limits - of course, do not renounce it in those places where it is important and necessary.
In her work, Christina Ellermann encourages you to trust your own feelings, to keep searching and finally to find what you are looking for. A difficult, long, exhausting, honest path that I find remarkable and worthy of recognition. I thank Christina for sharing her story and showing how important it is to look at and understand everything holistically and in context.
As for her own career and the knowledge she has acquired herself over all this time, I say: chapeau! To manage all this in such a desolate physical condition shows her strength, her great courage and her trust in herself. An exciting work for doctors, alternative practitioners, patients and their relatives.
Birgit Schäfers, July 2021
Chapter 1 - Psychosomatic?
It was the merry month of May. I was still reeling from the narrowly failed written alternative practitioner exam that took place in March 2018. The shock after the exam was great. I failed because of a wrongly ticked question. I was ashamed in front of my fellow examinees and my teachers. It was mainly because of my own carelessness that I had failed. The stumbling block was a question on the musculoskeletal system. When I handed in the examination papers, I knew that I had ticked the wrong box. Only my laziness prevented me from requesting a new paper and adding the marks.
7. May
Apart from this crucial question, however, there were other small mistakes. To reflect on this better, I watched the current exam discussion video of an alternative practitioner school on YouTube one Monday afternoon. The discussion of the individual questions immediately captivated me and I completely forgot about time and space. It became so much clearer to me how to approach the questions in the future and I became aware of my own thinking errors.
I was so absorbed in this preoccupation that I only came to when I noticed how I felt dizzy staring at the screen. I looked at my hands, which were starting to shake a little. I quickly grabbed a glucose, which was always handy on my desk shelf. I looked at the clock. It was almost 12 noon! I was sure that was why the circulation was calling. I hadn't eaten anything yet, just consumed Diet Coke and cigarillos. After the long birthday party weekend with little sleep and some champagne, I certainly needed something nutritious. The dextrose did not help. The dizziness remained and I became quite dizzy.
Staggering, I got up and made my way to my kitchen. To get there, I had to go up 3 floors. I live in an old, multi-storey house. When I got to the kitchen, I didn't feel well. It was difficult to breathe. I wanted to make some toast, but it seemed to take too long and too much effort. I reached for an apple and took a bite, hoping that I would feel better soon. My chest tightened more and more, as if someone was hugging me tightly from behind and successively taking away my breath.
I staggered down the stairs with the bitten apple in my hand. I tried to sit down in front of the computer to continue watching the film. Less than three seconds later, my eyes went black. I staggered up from my seat and grabbed my handbag in a daze. Outside, the sun was shining and it was reasonably warm. I staggered dazedly along the street in front of my house towards the tram. I had only one thought in my head: the family doctor. I could no longer control myself. I felt dizzy and everything was swaying. And it was getting harder and harder to breathe. I had left the house so headless that I forgot to close the front door and the balcony door. To avoid panic, I called Mario, my husband. We spoke briefly on the phone and I briefly explained to him how I was feeling and that I wanted to go to the doctor. After a distance of 100 metres, I didn't even have the breath to make a phone call. I was on the verge of collapse. Across the street, I saw a neighbour getting into her car. I spoke to her: "I don't feel well. I can hardly breathe. Can you drive me to the doctor? I can't make it on foot. The doctor is not far from here."
"Sure. Get in!" the helpful woman replied.
She started up. Everything swayed in the vehicle. After only 50 metres I shouted, "Stop the car, stop the car! I can't breathe in here. I have to get out."
I crashed into the road. I dropped the stupid apple I was still holding onto the road. When I went to sit down, I realised I was in no condition to sit. I had to stand up. But standing up was no good either. Everything was spinning. Suddenly an unquenchable thirst set in. My mouth was drying up.
The neighbour had parked the car on the side of the road and rushed to me on the pavement: "Do you have any water?", I asked her. "I am dying of thirst. I can hardly breathe, I'm dizzy and dying of thirst. What the hell is going on?"
The neighbour brought me her opened water bottle, which I grabbed greedily. I drank as well as I could at first. Helpless and worried, she stepped to my side, "What can I do? Should I call an ambulance?"
I shook my head, "No, I think I'll be fine in the fresh air. Just don't panic! I don't know what's wrong with me. It's up and down." No sooner had I uttered that than it got worse. I was forced to the ground, becoming more and more agitated and nervous: "I'm getting less and less air. My hands are getting numb and my legs are tingling. You'd better call an ambulance. I can't take it anymore."
My whole body felt numb. My head was tingling and everything seemed unreal. The neighbour quickly called 112 on her mobile: "Please send an ambulance to Hamburger street, at number 53! Please hurry!"
She turned to me: "The car is coming. Is there anything else I can do?" The good woman was now becoming more and more anxious herself, and I wanted to reassure her: "No, it's all right. Just breathe calmly. Just don't panic. It's going to be all right." I tried to distract myself a little. "I'm definitely holding you up. I'm so sorry." I had to fight for every sentence I forced out. After every sip of water and every word, the rollercoaster spun wilder inside me.
"I called work to tell them I'd be late. That's okay."
That calmed me down a little. Now the merry-go-round started all over again. Everything was swaying and I could hardly stand it any longer: "When will the ambulance finally come? I won't be able to soon!" The restlessness in me grew with every second.
After what felt like hours, a bright yellow ambulance with blue lights appeared on the street. Two paramedics rushed over and bent over me. The neighbour said goodbye and wished me a speedy recovery. I was taken into the ambulance. The paramedics took my blood pressure and did an ECG. Meanwhile they asked me what had happened. "I don't know.
I can hardly breathe, my whole body started tingling and I felt dizzy. Everything is gyrating."
"What do you want us to do with you now? Do you want to go home and wait until your GP opens the surgery?"
I was lying on the gurney and didn't quite understand the question, "The doctor doesn't open for another hour. Should I wait at home until then and keep gasping for air? The tingling and numbness are driving me crazy. So is the thirst. Couldn't you drive me to the hospital? They could take an X-ray of my lungs. Maybe there's something wrong?"
"Whatever you say." The paramedic strapped me in and disappeared into the driver's seat. The second paramedic remained sitting next to the stretcher. The strapped-in belts felt very uncomfortable. I was so nervous that I couldn't lie still. When the car started, the roller coaster started again. Everything was swaying like on a ship. I grabbed the paramedic's hand: "Do you think this is because I partied for two days, drank too much alcohol and smoked too much?" The guilty conscience was getting to me. That was the punishment for a wet and merry weekend.
The paramedic reassured me: "No, definitely not. My wife had something like that once. Then they found a rare tumour in her kidney. Now get yourself checked out!"
The 10-minute horror ride came to an end. The car stopped and the rocking inside me slowly died down. The car stopped at the emergency room. I got out and dragged myself to the registration desk. I handed in my health insurance card. At the registration desk, I was asked to take a seat in the waiting room. The corridor swayed more violently with each step. I couldn't sit still for two minutes in the waiting room. Fortunately, breathing became easier again. The restlessness and the tingling in my body were unstoppable.
After a seemingly endless wait, I was called into the treatment room. I sat down on the couch. A nice nurse took my blood pressure: "The doctor will be right in." Now a young man came in: "I'll be right with you" and disappeared. The youthful appearance astonished me. "Either I've grown old, or the doctors are getting younger and younger. One day the doctor will come in with a comforter."
The nurse left the room. A short time later the young doctor came in, sat down at the PC and wrote my details straight into the keyboard. I described my symptoms to him. The doctor asked briefly, "Do you consume nicotine and alcohol?" "Yes, but not much. I stopped smoking cigarettes 10 years ago and smoke cigarillos, but not on lung. I puff them."
The doctor looked at me disdainfully, "Not smoking on lung, there is no such thing. So, you smoke! Have you had this before?"
"Never. I had a burnout years ago. But I've never had anything with my breathing. It's just lately I've been noticing that there's something wrong."
During the case history, the nurse came and drew blood from my earlobe.
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm preparing for the alternative practitioner exam. I failed the first one in March. Before that I did a hypnosis training with a focus on relaxation and fantasy journeys. Maybe I could have an X-ray of my lungs to see if everything is OK? The heart was recently examined in a check-up. Apart from a few extrasystoles, there was nothing. It could be a “faechromo?"
The doctor wrinkled his nose and stared at his screen: "Everyone has extrasystoles. And what do you mean by faechromo?"
"I meant the tumour of the adrenal glands."
"It's called a pheochromocytoma. And that is rather unlikely in your case."
The nurse came in with a piece of paper in her hand. The doctor glanced at the paper and said, " That's what I thought. You had shallow breathing due to hyperventilation and therefore too little CO2 in your blood. That also explains the dizziness and the tingling all over. You don't need an X-ray, you need psychotherapy. You will have had a panic attack. "
Now a young woman entered the room and talked to the doctor.
"But", I replied, "wouldn't I have had to have panic first for a panic attack? I was sitting at the computer and everything was fine."
"Maybe you saw something that upset you? To reassure you, we're not very busy in the emergency ward today. This is a new colleague. I could explain lung listening and palpation to her on you."
The doctor listened to me over my clothes. If I had auscultated the lungs like that in my exam, I would have failed immediately. Then he did the palpation. During the deep palpation I felt pain near the bladder area. I had to cry out in shock for a moment. The doctor looked at me disapprovingly, "Why are you making such a fuss?"
"Why? Because that hurt."
He pressed on the spot again. It hurt, though not so surprisingly now. "Does it really hurt or are you just pretending?"
"No, it really hurts. But I also have a full bladder. Maybe that's the reason?"
"Then go to the toilet!"
Even with an empty bladder, I felt the pain. He had the ultra-sound device brought in and took a closer look: "I see a small mass and residual urine in the bladder. But I am not a urologist. The best thing for you to do is to go over to the urology department and have it checked out."
An orderly the size of a cupboard took me to the urology department. There I registered again and waited.
Now blood was taken and a catheter was inserted. Then ultrasound! Everything was fine in the urogenital tract. I was only asked to clarify a spatial formation in the uterus that looked like a cyst.
The urologist sent me home with all my findings.
When I read the young doctor's report, I could not believe my eyes. He had completely distorted the information I had given in my medical history and noted that I regularly had shortness of breath and that I could help myself with hypnosis. He recommended that I should seek psychiatric treatment.
The conclusion of Dr. Romper suit made me really angry. As if I were a "mental wreck".
10. May
A week before leaving on holiday, I started having severe abdominal pains. It felt like someone had plunged a dagger into my stomach and turned it around three times. Tears were running down my cheeks. The next day, a day before departure, the pain was still there. I cried out with every step. I could hardly walk. I thought of the cysts in my abdomen that could possibly be causing the pain. As it was just before the holiday, Mario preferred to drive me to the Magdalena-Clinic for a check-up. I didn't really want to, but I gave in to his urging. I tend to think, "It'll be fine, it's not that bad."
I still knew the Magdalena-Clinic quite well and had fond memories of it. When I had problems with my breast implants three years ago, the doctors and staff took very good care of me and spared me an explantation. At that time, just like that, my left breast swelled to three times its size. I had a high fever. Despite the acute symptoms, neither local gynaecologists wanted to help me - the receptionists turned me away - nor the gynaecological department in the community hospital. I was turned down there because I didn't have an appointment.
At the Magdalena-Clinic they took care of me. They gave me a bed because they wanted to remove the implants first. They gave me antibiotics from the drip. They were going to operate in the morning. But I felt better. The swelling and fever were gone. The senior physician decided against the operation. Such an intervention could do more harm than good. So, I was sent home.
Since then I had great confidence in the Magdalena Clinic. It was my first address. Fortunately, it was not very busy and after a short wait I was examined by a young doctor.
"Last week I had already been to the community clinic. There they found a mass in my abdomen. Since yesterday I've had unbearable pain, so that I can't even walk."
"Apart from a few cysts, everything is fine."
12. May
The next weekend there was a hypnosis training. During a demo hypnosis, the symptoms of dizziness and shortness of breath started again. The pressure on my chest got worse and worse. I got cold and sweaty hands; the body started to tingle again.
What was wrong with me? Was I really so psychologically devastated? Was this Dr. Romper suit, right? And I just didn't know it?
During a short break I turned to the lecturer: "You know, I don't feel well. I feel dizzy. I'm shaking and it's hard to breathe. No idea why? It was like this a few days ago. I don't know if I can do the exercise like this."
"Sounds like a panic attack." She raised her hand and asked me to look at her fingers, which she waved back and forth evenly: "Look at my fingers!" I followed her gestures with my eyes.
After a few movements, I was asked to breathe in and out deeply with my eyes closed. It got a little better, but the improvement didn't last long. The drama started all over again.
During the next break, I went to her again: "It's not getting better. I can do what I want. I've been to hospital for that too, but they thought I was psychosomatically ill."
"I understand. Doctors are quick to do that. Especially when you're visually out of the pattern. Tattooed, pierced, anyone who does something like that voluntarily must be mentally ill and then falls into the psycho category. I have often experienced that when I was still working in a hospital myself. Thomas is a physiotherapist. Maybe he can check your back. You're not the type who tends to have panic attacks. I can imagine that it could also be your ribcage."
Thomas was a participant in the course. I approached him and asked if he could check my back. The good thing is that therapists help each other.
I lay down on the table in the next room. Thomas looked at the length of my legs and checked my pelvis. My ribcage was just as crooked and lopsided as the rest. After a few targeted grips, it cracked and I felt better. It was already a difference like day and night. I could breathe much better than before.
After the seminar Mario picked me up and we went shopping. One more day of seminar, then we wanted to go on a well-deserved holiday. We both needed it.
In the supermarket - I was still fully packed and heading for some noodles - I noticed how everything started to sway. With every step I had to concentrate not to drop anything. Everything felt like it was made of cotton wool and the world had become unreal. I pulled myself together and didn't let myself notice anything.
Once home, I developed an insatiable ravenous appetite. I cooked asparagus with potatoes. When they were steaming on the table, I greedily took the first bite. And it got stuck in my throat. I felt so sick that I ran to the toilet and tried to throw up. But despite all my efforts, nothing came out.
Back to the table! Just looking at the delicious asparagus disgusted me. I couldn't get another bite down. Suddenly an insatiable thirst set in. I had been drinking two litres of water all day, which was not unusual at seminars. The next litre was quickly gone and the thirst did not stop.
There were also some alternative practitioners in the hypnosis WhatsApp group. I described my symptoms and asked for help. I quickly received a reply from a naturopath who had been practising for many years. According to her, I should be tested for diabetes. She wanted to bring a quick blood sugar test to the class tomorrow.
13. May
The last day of the seminar was approaching. Sober - without coffee - we did the blood sugar test. The value was slightly in the upper range. A hint to have the doctor check it. The physiotherapist checked my back again and gave me a tape. So, the day passed without any special incidents. In the evening, I stubbed out my last cigarillo. I wanted to be smoke-free for the holiday.
On 17. May, I went on holiday to Mallorca. One week "all-in" to relax. Not smoking was easy for me. To support myself, I did some self-hypnosis and gave myself a quit anchor. Whenever I was overcome by desire, I pressed a special finger movement, which reduced the desire to smoke. It worked quite well.
When I put on my make-up in the morning, I noticed brown spots on my forehead. They hadn't been there recently. They looked as if the skin had turned brown in some places, but otherwise remained light. I had never had skin problems before.
And two days before I left, something stung my neck so badly that the whole upper part of my neck swelled up red. All the vertebrae in my neck hurt.
24. May
Back home in Germany, the familiar game began: Mario complained about how much weight he had gained. Like after every holiday. No wonder, when you stuffed yourself to the brim at the buffet. I stuck to salad most of the time. So, I wasn't too afraid of the scales. Unfortunately, this time it was the other way around. My husband - who had eaten for a week and a half - weighed a ridiculous 2 kg more. And me? A whole 9 kg! My weight had gone up from 56 kg to 65 kg. I'd never weighed that much before.
I got out the trouser suit I had worn to the birthday party three weeks ago. I couldn't fit into it any more. And the suit was made of a stretchy material. I looked like a swollen sausage. The first sentence I heard from my husband on the subject: "You've also stopped smoking. You put on weight."
Yes, of course! About 5 to 10 kg in half a year. It depends on how you compensate. But not 9 kg after one week of not smoking! What a stupid argument. Then I'd rather smoke than throw out my entire wardrobe.
26. May
I didn't want to let the 9 kilos sit on me. With my typical ambition, I got on the ergometer in our basement and rode comfortably at first to warm up, then I increased the resistance. After 23 minutes I couldn't breathe, my hands were tingling and the pressure on my chest was back. I felt dizzy and had to get off the bike. In a daze, I walked up the four floors from the cellar to Mario, who was sitting at the table watching TV. "You know, I can't breathe," I gasped. "There's something wrong with me. We have to go to the hospital."
That's what always has to happen at the weekend, when there's no family doctor to be found and the emergency rooms at the hospital are full. I didn't want to go to Dr. Romper suit at the community hospital any more. We drove to Sankt Bernhard.
When we arrived, I was gasping for breath. The admission nurse was very friendly. I was allowed to lie down straight away. Luckily it was not very busy on Saturday morning. Blood was taken straight away. I was connected to a blood pressure monitor that pumped up at regular intervals.
In time I had to go to the toilet. When the orderly came in, I asked him if I could stand up. "No, you stay lying down and don't walk around! We suspect you have a pulmonary embolism. I'll bring you a loo chair."
Pulmonary embolism! Great! I could have guessed that. What was I learning differential diagnosis for? At least it's better than Dr Romper suit´s psychosomatic medicine. I know many people who were sent home with minor pulmonary embolisms until the major occlusion occurred. If the suspected diagnosis was confirmed, I could not have ruled out suing this Dr. Romper suit with his arrogance.
I had to go for an X-ray. I was glad that finally someone had the idea to take an X-ray.
I had wanted to all along. I felt that something was wrong. And it had nothing to do with my psyche. The X-ray was relatively quick. I only found it difficult to follow the instructions, "breathe in deeply - hold your breath, breathe out". That didn't work quite so well.
Then I had to wait. After 2 hours the doctor came and gave the all-clear: "We could not detect a pulmonary embolism. The blood results are also normal so far. We only found hypocapnia. Too much oxygen in the blood and too little Co2."
"But I didn't have a panic attack, I was on the ergometer normally. I even stopped smoking."
"You don't have to. As I see it, you are simply incredibly tense, so that the chest cannot expand properly and you therefore breathe shallowly. So, I advise you to see a chiropractor."
This was also a new lesson for me, that tension can be so strong that it takes your breath away. The mystery of the shortness of breath was solved. Dr. Romper suit´s psychologist would have helped me a lot, I would have had to go to a physiotherapist.
28. May
The next Monday I had incredible back pain, so that I could hardly get out of bed. Every movement hurt. A hypnosis colleague recommended a practice to me. I called them right away: "Hello, I need an appointment. I have acute back pain and can hardly move." The receptionist asked, "Have you been to our practice before?"
"No!"
"We only take private patients."
"That's me."
"We only take regular patients, no more new ones. I'll have to check with you first and if necessary, I'll get back to you."
The acute pain made no impression on the receptionist. But I still had an acquaintance who had introduced me to the Dorn-Breuss massage. He had always helped me so well that I was completely enthusiastic about Dorn therapy. And he also had time for emergencies.
The atlas vertebra was blocked and inflamed. I had also noticed a small swelling on the spinous processes from the outside. Not every therapist dares to touch the atlas vertebra. But he was familiar with cranio-sacral therapy. After an hour of complete treatment of every single cranial bone, including the jaw, I was symptom-free.
7. June
The beautiful pain-free happiness did not last long. The next round on the ergometer started all over again. No air and dizziness. Everything was going around in circles.
Now I called Mario's chiropractor. Luckily, he practised nearby and could be reached by bike. I didn't dare drive with my breathing problems. Especially as for the past year my circulation had been crashing whenever I was actively driving. Sometimes also when I went for a walk, which is why I didn't do any bigger rounds in the field.
Whatever the reason. It had never been clarified until then. At the time, I blamed it on the stress of building a house and diagnosed myself with burnout. My family doctor at the time concluded from a blood test that I was in good health. However, the symptoms remained. Since then I have not driven a car at all. And that for three years. In order to have a more comprehensive check-up - especially at over 40 years of age - I looked for a new GP who not only took blood samples, but also had a colleague examine my heart and thyroid. Apart from the extrasystoles and a small mitral valve prolapse, he found nothing abnormal.
Fortunately, I was told to come straight over. I got on my bike and tried to ride down the road as slowly as possible. Fifteen minutes I had to get over. The feeling of almost suffocating or fainting grew with every metre. Now I also had to climb a hump, which was even more exhausting. I counted the house numbers and fought the shortness of breath.
After what felt like hours, I reached the doctor's office. I felt so bad that I couldn't even lock my bike. On all fours - gasping for breath - I crawled up the three flights of stairs and crawled towards reception. Now I realised that I didn't have much time left. I was on the verge of suffocating. But the body seems to be tougher than one can even imagine.
"I..ie..h ha..called. C..a..e l..air," I stammered. The chiropractor came immediately and asked me into one of the treatment rooms.
A young woman took over. I had to undress and lie down on the couch. Now the shortness of breath was better. The young doctor took a medical history, checked the leg length difference and the pelvis. Then I had to go for an X-ray to make sure that everything was all right with my spine.
Now came the chiropractic intervention. The petite woman took me in her arms and bent me. There was a crack. "You have a crooked pelvis, the length of your legs is wrong, 3 thoracic vertebrae are out, also the first rib. No wonder you can't breathe and tend to hyperventilate."
"Well, I'm glad. A doctor told me I had something wrong with my psyche and that's why I was hyperventilating."
"That's what people usually say. But often it's the musculoskeletal system."
I was given three more appointments at monthly intervals.
Now I was told not to ride the ergometer for 4 weeks and to do without high heels. I'd never had that before. Is that what happens when you get over 40?
14. June
With a straight back and plenty of air, we went to Munich for the weekend. A mix of city tour and one day of seminar. The shopping in the city was necessary because I needed more stretchy clothes. I didn't fit into anything anymore. S or XS now became M. What a pain in the ego!
After we had checked into the hotel room, we got ready to go out for dinner. When I got out of the skirt - and out of the flat shoes - I looked at my legs. They were swollen thick. Both feet looked like they were about to burst. I had never seen that before. It was completely painless. When I pressed into the skin with my fingers, there were no dents. I had to take photos of it. Nobody believed me. I had the feet of a hundred-pound woman. The legs also no longer decongested.
The monster knuckles lasted until Sunday evening. On the way back, around Stuttgart, it got a little less around the ankles. On Monday, the spook was over. Only a few tighter calves were still slightly visible.
On Tuesday, 19 June, I completed a kind of marathon. I had to see the chiropractor and then the dermatologist at lunchtime. The brown spots were getting on my nerves. They were hard to cover up and not really pretty. The dermatologist was supposed to laser them away. But above all, I wanted to know what they were.
"They're melasma," he mumbled from behind his huge magnifying glass. "I'll take them away. No problem. They're caused by a combination of make-up, sun and estrogens."
No matter. The main thing was to get rid of it. The dermatologist lasered off the forehead in seconds. A little sunscreen on top and the melasma was gone. Or so I thought.
Thanks to regular exercise over the last three weeks, I also lost 2 kg. I now did gymnastics and went jogging. I gave up the ergometer because of my back. Things were looking up. The breathing was there, the brown spots were gone and the weight normalised. Now I had a week's holiday in Italy ahead of me. The last thing I needed was for my training success to be ruined by yo-yo effects.
20. June
The next morning, I started comfortably in bed with my traditional cup of coffee. Suddenly I felt my heart start to race. I thought it was the coffee, but I had just taken a sip. I put on my heart rate monitor. The pulse read 110 at rest. My breath caught in my throat. The chest was pressing, even though I had been to the chiropractor yesterday. The pressure was getting worse and I didn't know where to go. Headless, I walked down the small spiral staircase from the bedroom to the dressing room. As quickly as I could, I tried to get dressed. The pulse and the heart were hammering. The extrasystoles, which often startled me, came one after the other.
I left the house in a daze and staggered towards the tram. I didn't know if I would get there. An elderly lady was trying to unlock her car. Gasping, I stopped: "Can you give me a lift to Dr. Enges? The surgery is just down the road."
The lady shook her head, got into her car as quickly as possible and drove off.
Fortunately, the tram was approaching. Five stops further on was my former GP surgery. My new GP was on holiday. I briefly described my complaints, then I was accompanied by the doctor's assistant to the treatment room, where there was a couch. An ECG was connected and my blood pressure was measured.
After that, the doctor's consultation took place. The ECG did not show any special values. The blood pressure was also normal. The doctor sent me home with the words "everything is fine".
I walked there. I had another business appointment and had to change. To my horror, the trousers I had been wearing a few days ago no longer fit.
The weight, however, remained constant at the 62 kg where it had settled. How could it be that after one week I had gained so much weight that I was bursting my clothes and yet the scales showed the same weight?
The whole thing became more and more puzzling. In addition, I was overcome by an unusual thirst and a restlessness set in. I had to run back and forth in the kitchen and drink a sip of water every now and then. After half an hour, the thirst and restlessness were gone.
23. June
