I was born in May 1970. During the first check-up, a pediatrician suspected that something was wrong with my hip joints. In the early 70’s, babies were not x-rayed until they were at least six months old, so the doctor sent us home and advised my parents to wrap me as wide as possible to positively affect the small, soft bones. My parents followed the advice and after half a year they went to the doctor again, who ordered an X-ray examination. This examination confirmed the suspicion, I had been born with a high-grade hip dysplasia. Another six months passed with the order to my parents to continue to wrap the child wide and wait for the development of the joints. However, the joint situation did not improve and the doctors gave my parents little hope that I would ever learn to walk.
I went to the clinic and my joints were wired and plastered. As soon as the wires and cast were removed, they “jumped” back to their poor baseline. The whole treatment lasted just over a year and I spent the entire period in the clinic. The result of the treatment was that one hip joint remained in the desired position and the other was surgically repositioned for the first time at the age of just under two years.
After this operation I learned to walk for the first time.
I lived with more or less limitations, with regular checks of my joints and the awareness that a fall could put me in a wheelchair forever.
During a check-up at the age of six, my parents and I were informed that due to my growth, both joints were once again in a conceivably bad position for further physical development and that a rearrangement osteomy of both joints was absolutely necessary. The doctor suggested surgery before school enrollment and another the following year during summer vacation. According to the motto the sooner of it, the sooner of it, I asked to perform both operations immediately one after the other. My parents supported my request and so I spent the next six months in the clinic again, learned to walk for the second time in my life and, according to my wish, was enrolled in school the next year without crutches.
Until I was sixteen, my joints carried me with sometimes more and sometimes less physical discomfort and limitations. From one day to the next, the complaints became worse and the visit to the orthopedist ended with an immediate admission to the clinic. Once again a joint was surgically rearranged, once again it was a matter of learning to walk again. The operation was a success in the eyes of the doctors, but not in mine. The pain remained and got worse in the following time, also the other joint started to hurt increasingly as well. I started a professional training and after work I spent a lot of time with various doctors, with physiotherapy and in various clinics. I was told over and over again that I should be glad that my health had been so good in recent years and that I should now learn to live with the pain. Between 1991 and 1998, five more conversion osteomies followed, five times learning to walk again, five times hoping that the pain would at least become bearable again. Despite taking medication, I was in constant pain and, in addition, suffered from the side effects of the painkillers. A “normal” life was not to be thought of at all. Nevertheless, during this time I still completed a technical college degree, filled a new job, and overcame a personal family crisis. (In terms of strength, I probably lived in the fast lane and therefore sometimes felt very old). In 1999, I had an artificial hip joint implanted on my right side. I looked forward to this operation with hope, now finally there had to be an improvement. The surgery was clinically free of complications, but learning to walk was tedious and after about a quarter of a year I was still in pain and could not walk without forearm crutches. Sitting on a chair for a long time was torture, walking for a long time was also torture and standing (still) was not possible at all. So the next few years passed until the second hip joint was also so destroyed that I was also implanted with a total endoprosthesis in a further operation on the left.
I continued to spend the next few years with pain, medications, all sorts of doctor consultations, and a “somehow- it- will- go- on.”
In 2006 I received my first Reiki initiations through Monika Peter. I struggled through the seminar. Sitting still for a long time was only possible in pain, and by the afternoon of the first day I was mesmerized and contorted in pain. The following day, even more fascinated and even more distorted with pain. I went home then and did what I had learned- hands on the body
I don’t know when or where, at some point I didn’t need my crutches anymore, the pills became less, at some point I stopped taking them daily. My supports no longer accompany me in my hands today, 2008. Just as naturally as they accompanied me for many years, just as naturally I put them in the corner at some point because I simply no longer needed and need them. (Granted, just in case, there are still three pairs in strategically chosen places- but I think more as a reminder so I don’t forget to behave responsibly towards my body).
Finally, a comment from my orthopedic surgeon of many years:
During one of my last (check-up) examinations, he looked at me and told me that he could not explain why this fundamental improvement in my health situation had occurred and that not only my subjective sensation but also the range of motion of my joints had improved.