A husband writes …

It was in October 2015 when we were in Bremen on a dance workshop.

Our son was just five months old, and I went along to give my wife this long-awaited workshop. I was out and about with the little one during the day, and Sylvie danced. We spent the night at a friend’s house. After an eventful day and pleasant conversations, we went to bed and fell asleep, only to be awakened a short time later by a pathetic shaking and trembling in the room. It was my wife, and she had an epileptic seizure. I didn’t know that at the time. It was a shock. I thought she was dying. However, the worst convulsion only lasted 20-30 seconds and was followed by a deep faint. Luckily, our friend came in and was there for us. She called 911 and took us to the hospital.

There Sylvie was examined. The brain CT showed an abnormality, and so an MRI was also done. Diagnosis “suspected astrocytoma (brain tumor).” During the night, Sylvie had another mild seizure. Of course, she was massively medicated and given epilepsy medication for the future. We knew about Germanische Heilkunde and did not let ourselves be shocked by the diagnosis. However, something like this does not pass by without leaving a trace. The doctors sent us home with the announcement to see a neurologist to clarify the further procedure. We had to stop breastfeeding our son overnight because of the toxins in the medication.

How should this go on now? The medication (Levetiracetam) was hard for Sylvie. She felt terrible with it, and her brain didn’t want to function. She was numb. After three days, she stopped taking the pills, and things went up quickly. We didn’t have any medical supervision. An appointment with a GH companion had already been made. We were quite unsettled by now. A few days later, there was another light seizure at night. There was a whole series of seizures during the day from which she could not seem to get out. We called the emergency doctor again. This time there was the full program, with a tube, helicopter, and extra medication. They wanted to operate. First a biopsy and then the brain tumor. There was the only talk of a brain tumor. I said that it was “suspicion of…” but that was of no interest. We left the hospital. There was no snipping at the head. Sylvie was utterly out of it. And she went back on the epilepsy medication. It took a good 4-5 weeks before she was somewhat back to normal. She didn’t remember anything and was tired all the time. But that all went away.

With our GH companion, we found out a lot. I don’t want to go into too much detail and just mention the most important things: There was an extreme trauma in Sylvie’s childhood with the theme of “being stuck” and a strong imprint about “being alone” “being abandoned.” Where was the conflict? About three months after our son’s birth, there was a shocking death in our family, which led to a situation that hit Sylvie right in her theme. Being stuck and being abandoned. It was being stuck referred to being held by our son. The being left referred to me as being unavailable because of the death. It is a tricky situation that I will not explain in detail. We have deduced and analyzed it in detail. The feeling is necessary. How does the person associate? It was obvious. For the next 4-6 weeks, we struggled a lot with the grief for my niece and our messed up situation. Sylvie was not doing well. She was very stressed, slept poorly, and it was also challenging with our son.

Six weeks after the conflict event, we gave our son into the hands of my mother-in-law for the first time for a weekend and a dance workshop. It was a wonderful weekend, and we found our way back into contact and trust. The conflict was resolved. After that, everything got better. We slept better. Our son cried less. We were at peace again. Exactly three weeks later, Sylvie had her first seizure. That was in October 2015.

But the story goes even further. Half a year later, another series of seizures with the hospital. Sylvie did not want to go to the hospital under any circumstances. We had discussed that before. But after seven seizures over 5 hours, I could no longer bear the responsibility and called the doctor. Intensive care in the head clinic. The full program and again we left without operating. And again with Levetiracetam (epilepsy medication). And again, Sylvie phased out and stopped the medication after about two months.

Status Epilepticus

Eight months later, in April 2017, seizures again. And now it gets interesting.

We have come a long way in the meantime and have educated ourselves intensively on Germanische Heilkunde, on supposed brain tumors, on epilepsy. We were also equipped with emergency medications. I also knew that the seizures would not break anything if they did not go too long at a stretch. The limit here for me would be longer than 30 seconds of seizures. With one-time seizures, one can endure far more extended periods without damage. The problem is that the sufferer can’t breathe during the time of the seizure. Sylvie always lay in bed when the seizures came. So there was no risk of injury. Thirty seconds without air is not a problem. And, of course, it’s a marathon for the brain – mega exhausting.

What happened? We were lying in bed, Sylvie, our son, and me. The convulsions were each about 20 seconds long, followed by fainting, followed by profound exhaustion. In conventional medical terms, this would be called status epilepticus. The spacing of the seizures was an hour at first and got shorter and shorter, down to 15 minutes. It went on all night. We counted 30 seizures. Our son was with us the whole time and slept, even though his mother was loud, convulsing, gasping, and I was also always moving. This helped me. Little kids get an extreme amount, and he would have indicated danger. Still, I was always alert to call 911, knowing it would be with us in under 10 minutes. The medics say you can’t get out of status on your own. They say the system has hung up. I administered the emergency medications at one point with no apparent success. Later, I gave very high doses of magnesium. This seems to have contributed to the relaxation, but it is not possible to say for sure.

The seizures changed during the night. They did not get stronger. The way the body spasmed changed. Sometimes only one part spasmed. Sylvie was struggling but not hurting. I hugged her, breathed with her, and toned. This helped her immensely. She was not alone. Her theme is “need help when stuck.” I gave her that to the best of my ability. And I wasn’t alone either. I spent the entire 8 hours that it took on the phone with a friend who is very knowledgeable about GHK and the phenomenon of epicrisis. That was very generous support, without which I might not have gotten through it.

In the morning at 7:00, the last seizures ran out. They became weaker and weaker and finally stopped. Sylvie slept almost through 2 days and was unresponsive.

After that, she was back to herself. Everything was slow and subdued for a while, but she was stable. She was nowhere near as out of it as the times before when she came out of the hospital completely sedated. It took her three months to regain her strength and feel complete back in life fully. Those were the last seizures until today. She has been off her meds for almost two years now (since she stopped taking them in October 2016). Of course, we are still on the subject. The imprinting that makes Sylvie susceptible, the conflicts she has suffered, are stored in the system. And away must be found to avoid further conflicts and to recognize and resolve recurrences quickly. But we have become more prosperous by essential experiences in the last years. Above all, the experience that status epilepticus can be resolved.

These are our experiences. Each person and each form of epicrisis is individual.

PS:

I wrote this report in consultation with my wife. She cannot remember a lot of things. The days of epicrisis have mainly been erased. The remaining memory has returned, fortunately.


Note by H.Pilhar

Impressive!

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