Hemorrhage – Germanic New Medicine Testimonial

Hemorrhage: A touching case description that helps those interested in Germanische Heilkunde better empathize with the soul of the affected.

Inspired by the naturopath who cared for my husband in his final weeks (he passed away due to chemotherapy and radiation), I have been studying Germanic New Medicine (GNM) since 2008—unfortunately, we discovered it too late for my husband. With great interest, I follow the testimonials on your website, which have often helped me identify and categorize conflicts. For this reason, I would like to share a recent experience, which you are welcome to publish.
I—RH, no birth control pills—woke up one night with pulling pains directly below my C-section scar. The pains came and went in increasingly shorter intervals and could not be soothed with a heating pad. On the contrary, they grew stronger, and to my greatest surprise, I noticed bleeding had started. My last menstrual period had been just a week prior, but now I was experiencing a hemorrhage like never before, accompanied by severe pains reminiscent of labor. Over the following days, I continued to lose a significant amount of blood. The cramp-like pulling in my lower abdomen subsided after 3-4 days, and the gradually diminishing bleeding lasted about 14 days in total.
For several years now, I have not visited a gynecologist and since my husband’s death I have opted out of all “preventive” examinations, I forgo conventional medical diagnoses and especially treatments. So, I wanted to figure out for myself what had caused this “precipitous birth.” A look at the diagnostic chart led me to the answer: a loss conflict, typically grandmother-grandchild. After some reflection, I remembered what had happened about 14 days prior.

At 52, I am the proud grandmother of two grandchildren, whom I visit once or twice a month. The “older one” is just over 2 years old—a lively little boy who is always thrilled when I visit and devote my attention to him. Recently, I spent another evening at my daughter’s place. The older one and I played and romped around as much and as loudly as possible in a rented apartment. After dinner, both children were put to bed by their mother, not without protests and whining from the older one, who would have loved to keep playing with me. I, too, found it hard to say goodbye and would have gladly sat by his bed a little longer, accompanying him on his way to dreamland. But when I entered the children’s room—where my daughter had just barely managed to get both kids to sleep—she hissed, “DON’T, Mom! He’ll just get worked up again if he sees you!” before I could even turn the corner to his crib. Startled, I said goodbye from the doorway and drove home.

For the next two weeks, I didn’t see my daughter or grandson. I slept poorly, though I blamed it on everyday stress. In the mornings, my left eye was often crusted shut, and I had swollen, sore breasts and a belly so “bloated” that I jokingly told myself I looked somehow pregnant. Then came the day when I took my grandson home with me for the first time for a weekend, having him all to myself. We both thoroughly enjoyed having so much time together, and when I dropped him off with his parents on Sunday evening, he cried big fat tears as I drove away without him—so he must have had a good time with me.

That night, I experienced the aforementioned “miscarriage,” and a stye also formed on my left upper eyelid. What amazed me was how a seemingly trivial incident could affect me so deeply. Intellectually, I knew that—emotionally—I could never truly be separated from my grandson. But biology operates without consulting reason first, and in that moment, I must have felt—spatially—separated from him. A conflict situation I had apparently repressed, which only resolved when I had him with me for an entire weekend.

The stye is no longer inflamed—about three months later—but it’s still there, slightly encapsulated. I haven’t had a menstrual period since then. To avoid reinforcing any psychological pattern, I now visit my grandson regularly once a week, and at bedtime, we calmly say goodbye with a little lullaby before his parents put him to bed. I also take him home with me for weekends now and then. In between, I consciously remind myself of the wonderful feeling that we are connected by a strong emotional bond—even when we’re not together.
With warm regards,
P.T.

Note by GHK Academy

Eye:

Could this really be a stye (attack against the eye)? Why then the crusted eye? I rather believe it involves the tear ducts (wanting to be seen or not seen). Ulceration in the active phase, swelling in the healing phase.
Perhaps the tear gland itself also reacted (being unable to let go of something that wasn’t seen in time). In the healing phase, caseous decomposition (purulent tears).

Uterus:

The conflict—grandmother losing/grieving her grandchild—affects the uterine lining. Cell proliferation in the active phase, caseous breakdown in the healing phase.
A young grandmother who loves her grandchild with all her heart!
Thank you!