Caroline Herring
Here is my story...In 1988 I had a serious car crash. As a result of my seat belt failing, I was smashed into the roof at 60 m.p.h. I suffered head injuries, serious whip lash and back injuries. I had to leave my job as an industrial chemist because I was confined to bed for nearly 9 months. I am still suffering to this day.
I turned to osteopathy nearly a year since the crash. I had not heard about it before. The first cranial osteopathic session I had was an incredible experience. I felt my blood rush through my head and around my body as if a damn had burst. I was brick red and sweating but felt liberated temporarily from the constant pain that has become a daily feature of my life. This treatment was a revelation and gave me the hope to keep going, because at the time I had become seriously depressed.
Cranial osteopathy is my favourite procedure. I can still feel exactly which bones in the cranium were damaged to this day because their movement is still restricted.
I also have traction to release the bones in my neck and take the pressure off my skull and spine. I feel as if a huge weight is being lifted from my shoulders each time I have it done. I believe that I am a few centimeters taller when I leave each session.
I also have manipulation of the thorax, lumbar and sacral bones in my spine because they are twisted against the side impact of the crash.
I cannot go 2 months without seeing an osteopath, the build up of stress and pain within my skeleton is too great to bear. My relationship with my osteopath is an important one, only he understands what I am going through physically every day because he keeps trying to fix it and make my life tolerable. My osteopath is someone who makes you stop and listen to your body, a very necessary task that doesn't happen as much as it should. He is a witness to my physical distress that I cannot share with anyone else, due to the nature of his job.
In short, osteopathy helps me to lead as normal life as possible and I am happy to continue with it for the rest of my life.
Caroline Herring, November 2009