Epileptic Seizure – Germanic New Medicine Testimonial

A medical professional suddenly understands why she had an epileptic seizure as a child in the hospital.

Natalie & John, thank you for the book!

I read the book during my travels, on the road, in one breath. I cried and empathized; at some points, as a doctor, I didn’t fully agree—my soul was torn between the despair and fear of the parents and the understanding of the doctors, whose calling and duty is to save lives. This is truly more than just a story with a happy ending. The book is both a textbook, a visual guide, and an instruction manual for parents’ conscious confidence based on knowledge, as well as a motivator.
The epigraphs to the chapters were a particular delight! But the most amazing thing is that while reading, I had revelations and finally understood why I once had convulsions in my life—something I had never been able to figure out until now.

Here’s my testimonial about my epileptic seizure:

I celebrated my 11th birthday in the hospital, in the ENT department, where I had already been for two weeks with sinusitis. I had undergone a maxillary sinusotomy (a sinus puncture), had a tube in my nose taped to my cheek, and every day, my sinus was irrigated: you sit with a tray under your chin, a solution is injected into the tube, and it pours out of your mouth and nose along with pus and mucus. On top of that, I was given painful antibiotic injections.
On the day before my discharge, when I was already packing up to go home, they took a control X-ray and instead of releasing me, they told me that now the other sinus was “clouded.” They decided to keep me in the hospital, and the next day, I would have a puncture in the second sinus, followed by more treatment. I was in complete shock—my hope of going home had collapsed. I immediately burst into tears, and I remember the nurse scolding me, maybe even shaming me, and then injecting me with something, supposedly in preparation for the next day’s procedure.
I vividly remember the overwhelming sense of deep despair. I wandered the hospital hallway in utter misery. This feeling was like a separate symptom—some kind of cosmic sadness and crushing weight. To make things worse, I had no one to talk to. My parents only visited in the evenings. In the ward with me were twin girls, younger than me, and their mother, who treated me very warmly, both maternally and like a friend. She was young and cheerful. But on that ill-fated day, they were sent to another clinic for tests and didn’t return to the ward until around 4 PM.
As soon as they came back, I immediately complained to her and poured out all my pain. I think it was a stroke of luck: she found just the right words to comfort me, cheered me up, cracked a joke, and just like that, the oppressive gloom lifted—I accepted the inevitable.
Around 7 PM, after work, my parents arrived. Having already come to terms with the situation, I went down to the first floor, where visits took place, intending to tell my mom and dad that I had to stay and couldn’t go home the next day. But instead of speaking, my lower jaw literally twisted to the side, and I couldn’t do or say anything. My lips and tongue were seized by spasms. My jaw kept shifting, and my teeth ground against each other.
My terrified parents couldn’t understand what was happening and took me back to the department, where full-body convulsions began. My body twisted and bent in different directions, and for some reason, my head jerked back so violently that when they laid me on the bed, I could see the socket at the headboard. While everyone rushed around in panic, my mom kept making me recite the nursery rhyme “Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear, walking through the forest” to try to control my jaw. All I could manage was a choked “Mishkaaa…” before another spasm clenched my jaw so hard that it chipped some of my tooth enamel.
They called not only the on-duty doctor but also other physicians and even the head of the department from home. I remember a tight circle of white coats around the bed and my mom sitting beside me, repeating, “Recite, recite ‘Teddy Bear.'” It all ended with an intravenous injection of Seduxen. Right as the needle went in, the tension released, and I immediately fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning with slight weakness but remembered everything. I felt like some kind of hero who had attracted so much attention from doctors and patients. Of course, the sinusitis suddenly became a secondary concern (it was later treated at home with folk remedies), and they quickly discharged me that same day, just to be safe. They explained to my parents that it was likely a reaction to the drug I had been given earlier that day and that such reactions occur once in hundreds of thousands of cases. My mom didn’t remember the name of the drug: “Something starting with ‘A.'” Both my parents and I believed it was just an extremely rare allergy.
Later, when I grew up, I was even baffled—how could they forget the name? It was so dangerous! When I was a medical student studying ENT diseases at the same department where this had happened, I even tried to find my old records in the archives to figure out what it was. But I couldn’t—they told me patient records were only kept for five years before being disposed of.
I never experienced anything like that before or after, and I have no predisposition to seizures. It wasn’t until I read your book that I realized it was an epileptic motor conflict—the impossibility of escaping, fighting back, or dodging.
Thank you again!

Comment from GHK Academy:

Thank you very much for your review. We always appreciate feedback on our Max-story, especially reviews from the perspective of a conventional medical practitioner. Anyone who has read the book “I WANT MY BABY BACK!” will understand why.
Max’s story takes the reader right into the heart of the events and allows the reader to feel what we felt at the time.
This enables a very deep understanding of the conflict situation, the experience of the conflict, and the corresponding symptoms at the organ level, and suddenly even the own experiences become crystal clear and understandable. Thank you for your detailed story. Your story allows us to comprehend a motor conflict, and especially the crisis, which manifests itself in the muscle DHS as an epileptic seizure. So, in terms of the topic, it’s exactly what had happened to our son back then. You were lucky that your doctors suspected an allergic reaction to there medication at the time and didn’t start looking for brain tumors (cerebral edema) with a brain CT or MRI. Then they wouldn’t have just sent you home. The fact that your sinus infection suddenly became a non-issue and could be successfully treated at home with home remedies is also in line with what we would recommend at GHK.

I don’t even want to think about how many children in hospitals in every country are subjected to terrible conflicts every day, simply because conventional doctors focus only on physical symptoms and ignore the soul.
Thank you again, Elena, for sharing your story with us.