Journey Of Life » Uncategorized

Ilya’s Treatment – Day 2

admin — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 11:29:56 +0000

By now, the clinic was becoming a familiar and comfortable place. We checked to see if there were many wheelchairs in the quadrant of the room near Stipe and decided to leave Ilya’s chariot outside. It was relatively early still and we had plenty of time to get Ilya’s treatment and head over to Hotel Kompas for the seminar.

One of the things that so separates the methods of this clinic is the prioritising of treatment. There is no first-in / first-out system nor does the fact that you’re sitting near a particular therapists mean that they will be the one to treat you. Here, people are treated on an intuitive basis. Occasionally, someone walks in and is treated almost immediately; others, who seem perhaps quite ill, are kept waiting for hours and are then treated by a therapist on the opposite side of the room to where they are sitting. This seems strange at first but it soon becomes apparent that it works perfectly.

Sitting there amidst so much illness, one would think the clinic would have the feel of a run-down hospital waiting room but instead the whole place is vibrant, lively and full of energy. Seeing very sick people with a look of relief, gratitude or joy on their face is really something special to witness. All patients are treated in the same manner. Whether you come with a minor ailment, feeling a bit under-the-weather or have an otherwise untreatable terminal illness, you wont find tea and sympathy nor hollow promises, just the offer of treatment, no strings attached, no price to pay. It is this that draws people from all over the world.

The music playing in the background, we discovered at the first day’s seminar, is not for the benefit of the patients but for the therapists. As a classical piece finishes and a track from an unfamiliar band begins, Ilya’s name is called by Stipe Domancic. Elena takes Ilya to sit on the middle treatment chair. Each therapist has three normal, but fairly comfortable, chairs just as you would find in a waiting room or at a seminar. This allows them to have the patient seated with their legs up when necessary and for the therapist to be able to sit, also. It is extremely important when treating 30-50 patients per day for the therapists themselves are as comfortable as possible. They are performing many of the techniques over and over again for an extended period and their health is paramount. As in any form of assistance, it is vital that the “rescuer” does not need to “rescued” themselves! The therapists, irrespective of height, all have the same great posture and calm confidence about them.

Following Ilya’s treatment, it’s already 10am and time for the start of the seminar. We scurry off to Hotel Kompas.

Domancic Method Seminar – Level 1

admin — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 17:42:40 +0000

With our gifted paper and borrowed pencil, we now sat close to the side wall with the other English speaking attendees of the Domancic Method Level 1 Seminar. Filling the majority of the seminar area were Polish speaking attendees with Martyna standing at the front translating Croatian – Polish – Croatian. Our rather talented Croatian – English – Croatian translator was Bostjan, the therapist who had treated me earlier that day. I hadn’t intended getting treatment for myself but on the night before our departure from the UK I stepped from the camper. Carrying a drill, I found to my dismay that I had left a large piece of wood close to the door. As my heel hit the wood, though square in section, it began to roll abruptly sending me from upright to prone in the blink of an eye. I cracked my little toe on the tarmac which swelled somewhat but was easily ignored when wearing flip-flops and gained a minor craze to my right knee. But it was not these minor bumps for which Bostjan had treated me. As I landed, my lowest rib had met the corner of a tool box which, like a crocodile, had been waiting silently in the dark for an unsuspecting, rather tired and slightly stupid victim. A loud crack echoed through my chest as I landed and my intercostal muscles along with the rest my back had gone into spasm. As I got up and made my way to side of the camper for support, I realised that I hadn’t taken a breath for some time but it took a while longer to understand that I couldn’t take a breath. Having cracked ribs before, I knew how sore they could be and how long they take to mend properly. Back in 2002, shortly before I departed to Australia and New Zealand with a friend for a year, my sternum had been involved in an argument with the arm of a cast iron bench seat in the early hours of the morning following a nice quite farewell drink with friends. Though I don’t really recall the event, I understand that I fallen over a knee high wall and, upon jumping up to figure out what had happened, had fallen back over the same wall, spinning round in the process with my sternum acting as a rather poorly conceived airbag with my ribs taking the part of equally poor crumple zones. Some months later in Australia, I still felt the twinge of that night each time I coughed, rolled over in bed or carelessly bumped into an inanimate object.

Standing by the camper on the night before departure to Slovenia, I had no assistance with the pain from Jack Daniel’s and his sour mash magic or any other of the multitude of beverages that had graced my lips during my pre-Aus bash. Gradually, I began to take shallow breaths, becoming slowly deeper until I was no longer short of breath but still in pain. This pain would soon subside but be replaced by terrible spasms around the ribs. The drive to Slovenia was fine but at night the spasms would be very painful and left me once again short of breath. Bostjan had treated this area and now writing this, just 2 weeks after the incident I can sleep on my front, back or either side with only very minor discomfort and no spasms at all.

Zdenko Domancic now sat confidently in front of his audience and began to speak. His role here today was not to teach us of his methods but to discuss the philosophy and background to the treatment, to inform us how and why it worked and to demonstrate to those who hadn’t opened their own eyes just what wool had been pulled over them and who had done the pulling. He spoke of the various inequalities and conventions that led to our dissatisfaction with our lives and ultimately our physical condition and illnesses. Some nodded in agreement, some looked personally insulted and others simply confused. Domancic senior now took his leave and invited his son, Stipe, to take over. Stipe, possessing the same confidence and control of the room as his father, looked briefly across the faces of the attendees and spoke in a clear, penetrating voice. “Treatment”, Bostjan echoed.

It was then explained that all diseases were treated using a combination of 7 techniques which, used in varying amounts and in a specific combination could treat anything from tennis elbow to brain tumour. The techniques were then explained and demonstrated one at a time and in isolation with questions being asked in Polish or English with the responses being translated from Croatian. The words of Zdenko were now repeated by Stipe that therapists, and indeed doctors, do not heal the body, only the individual can heal themselves and that our role as biotherapists can be thought of as mechanics working on an energetic, rather than a physical, level. By helping in this way, the body is then able to return to it’s natural state of health.

We then broke for the afternoon with the other attendees asked to return at 18:45.

Walking around the lovely Bled, we decided to find a supermarket to buy some lunch. It seems that all food shops here in Bled are from the same franchise, namely Mercator. We enjoyed yoghurt, cereal bars and some fine sausages by the lake before heading back once again to the fourth floor of Hotel Lovec. Given that we were here for treatment for little Ilya, we got back early at around 17:30 after the clinic had begun it’s second session of the day at 17:00.

Sitting for some time, legs uncrossed and palms upwards as is the convention, we realised that everyone from the morning’s clinic had returned and that these were not different patients. Eventually, Stipe came over, nodded and called Ilya’s name once again. The enormous array of patients from all over the world waited patiently until being seen one at a time for their second treatment of the day. All were greeted upon arrival by Tanja in one of her many languages. Croatian, English, Italian, German and Slovenian – most impressive.

Finally, the last of the patients left and the doors were closed behind them. Domancic senior now took centre stage once again and continued where he had left off. He spoke of science and scientists and recalled being under scrutiny by the University of Zagreb. They had asked him to take part in experiments to qualify this strange method and during the experiment Zdenko Domancic and his therapists exposed aqueous solutions of calcium salts to bioenergy. The results were incredible – to the scientists, at least. The usual crystalline pattern was transformed, as verified by electron microscopy, into a variety of forms – the most stunning of which closely resembles a flower. Now, having shown us all copies of the electron micrographs, this confident, assertive man posed the question, “Do you think YOU could do this?” The blank faces and nervous insecurities of many in the audience were a contrast to those who already understood what was coming. “Of course you can”, he said with a smile, his face now softer and with a look of reassurance in his eyes.

Soon it was time for Stipe to once again take over and we continued with the techniques of this extraordinary method. We learned how the body responds to the 7 techniques and when they should and shouldn’t be used. It was incredible to see the utter simplicity of this treatment demonstrated step-by-step with the assistance of our “guinea pigs”, namely two of the therapists that were not otherwise taking part in the seminar.

With the conclusion of the remainder of the techniques, we were asked to come back in the morning at 10:00 but this time to meet in the reception of Hotel Kompass, the hotel next door to Hotel Lovec where the attendees, with the exception of the Duffin family, were all staying.

As we walked 45 minutes back to the campsite around the lake in the cool, damp air, we were thankful to all the people who had made our visit here possible and to those who had shown us such generosity now that we had arrived. Tomorrow would be a good day.

The Clinic – Day 1

admin — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 13:18:15 +0000

Our walk around the stunning Lake Bled was wonderful as the light mist and clouds parted a little but our minds were elsewhere as we were just hours away from treatment for Ilya.

We made our way to the 4th floor of Hotel Lovec to the conference hall that for 9 months of the year is the clinic of Master Zdenko Domancic and his therapists. As we neared the open door, the sound of classic music could be heard lightly dancing in the air. There stood 5 therapists, all slim, upright and with the look of utter confidence on their faces. They each had a patient with them, some old, some young, some in wheelchairs, some with nothing obviously the matter but all with a look of gratitude and relief on their faces. To the left of the door was a large desk with files, papers, phones and all manner of organisational materials being expertly driven by the tall, slender figure of Tanja Domancic, wife of Zdenko Domancic who treated his own patient a short distance away.

The atmosphere in the hall was like nothing I have experienced. For over 2 hours, I felt exhilarated, like I had just jumped onto a steep water-slide on a hot day. We were greeted with smiles as we explained who we were and what we were here for. Tanja directed us to the far corner of the room where Stipe Domancic, son of Master Zdenko was treating patients.

We watched as one by one patients were called to their therapist and they explained in Croatian, Slovenian, English, German, Italian, Polish or any one of a multitude of languages, what their diagnosis was. Domancic Therapy does not practise diagnostics (for a very good reason that we’ll explain later) so patients must be able to tell their therapist just what the problem is. This might seem a little odd given that they must first visit their doctor to get a diagnosis but we weren’t the only ones there for whom orthodox medicine had sadly drawn a blank.

Visitors to the clinic sit patiently for hours while they wait their turn, legs uncrossed with hand open, palms up in the lap. This open posture is very important and the open, group approach to healing is not accidental. This approach provides utter transparency as the “believes” and the “sceptics” sit side by side awaiting a slot. In reality, it doesn’t matter whether one accepts what is happening or not as it is simply fact and does not require any form of “faith”, unlike many alternative treatments. A few moments into the treatment, the therapist begins moving their patient using psycho-kinesis which is used both as a useful indicator of the patient’s condition and as a proof of concept for those that need one. Seeing a patient be moved by an “invisible force” is one thing but when you are being moved by an “invisible force”, that is something altogether. Tall, short, big, small, young and old, all are “magically” bent first backwards, then forwards. Some bend a little, some bend a lot but all move based on the apparent will of their therapist. Obviously, the infirm, the disabled and the very young are not subjected to this for their own comfort but seeing a 6′5″, well built young man bend double following the hand gestures of a 5′6″ therapist who has not come into physical contact with them is rather convincing.

The therapy then continues with the waving of arms and occasional holding of the head, chest, limbs or torso. Each disease has a different combination of movements and these expert therapists need only know the name of the diagnosis.

Finally, Stipe Domancic turned to us and with a nod and a wave, let us know it was Ilya’s turn for treatment. Treatment is carried out at the clinic twice a day as many of the conditions seen here are extremely seriously. Many come in the days before amputation or major surgery takes place in a last attempt to save their limb, breast or bowel. Others, like us, come with degenerative diseases for which medicine is unable to help too much with. As Lena took Ilya and walked over to sit in front of Stipe, a huge lump hit my throat and I choked down my tears. This soon gave way to a huge smile as Ilya sat there receiving treatment at the Clinic of Zdenko Domancic, thanks to the love, support and generosity of the countless friends, family and complete strangers who helped us so much in our journey to Slovenia. Ilya sat, fairly quietly receiving treatment sat in his Mum’s lap soon, it was all over. We were told that patience was the key and to return for the evening clinic and both clinics for the following 3 days. in addition, we were also told that his temperature may go up to fever point but this is normal and expected as the body is kick-started into action.

As is normal at the clinic, patients usually return to their seats after their treatment to bathe in the collective group energy and rest a little before heading off back to their hotels, camp-sites and friend’s house’s where they will be staying for the coming days of the clinic. As mentioned, treatment is for 4 days, twice a day and as people have come from al over the world for treatment, the hotels and accommodation of this region of Slovenia do not suffer the usual out-of-season blues as is common with many tourist destinations.

Sitting there peacefully following Ilya’s treatment, Martyna came over to speak to us. She said that she had spoken to Master Domancic about a place at the beginner’s seminar, starting right after the close of the morning clinic session. A few moment’s later, the man himself came over. His intense eyes, Mediterranean looks and deep voice give him an imposing demeanour but he had come not to challenge but to offer us a gift. Free places for us at the 4 day seminar, starting immediately.

This was more than we could possibly have hoped for. Places are limited and expensive as only those serious about the seminar are really wanted. Martyna, still sitting next to us, smiled and remarked that, though and imposing figure, Master Domancic was extremely generous.

With Ilya’s first treatment complete, we borrowed a pencil and some paper from another seminar attendee and started writing, “Domancic Therapy Seminar, Day 1″.

The night before the clinic

admin — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 13:11:33 +0000

Bearing in mind our epic journey to get to Bled, we thought it would be worth checking out Bled to make sure that we knew just where the clinic was and get as much info as possible. We had been in touch with the wonderful Martyna Fon, who arranges English speaking seminars and treatment at the clinic in addition to translation, via Facebook. It was Martyna who advised us the clinic was no longer held in Bohinj but in Bled and Martyna who had offered us one of her places for treatment in the likely event that we could not get a place. The clinic doesn’t charge for treatment but there are waiting lists of around 6 months as some 200 patients per day come in search of treatment. It was Martyna who we now saw for the first time standing with her group in the reception of Hotel Lovec on the night before the clinic.

We recognised Martyna from her Facebook photo and smiled and, after a very brief pause, she came out to greet us. She explained the format for the next day and we had a chat before heading off, thoroughly thrilled, back to our campsite some 45 minutes walk away.

Photos

admin — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 18:44:02 +0000

Austria & Slovenia

admin — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 17:55:42 +0000

We woke and had breakfast at what must be the most stunning surrounding I’ve ever seen at a motorway service station. With mist hanging in the forest and high peaks around us, the blinkered night time view of yesterday had opened into the most stunning vista and we soon wanted to get underway to enjoy the drive. We were very close to the Slovenian border and after just 45 minutes crossed over. Almost there. We stopped to swap over maps. TomTom, if you are reading this, you seriously need to remedy this ridiculous situation. Our TomTom came with a map of Western Europe when we bought it over a year ago. For this trip, we trip to buy just Slovenia as our destination, Bled, is very close to the border. Not only did we have to buy the whole of Central and Eastern Europe but had to wipe the entire device to add what is only an additional 40km or road. Why can’t we simply remove Spain or Sweden and add Slovenia instead? I’m fairly certain that this used to be the case. Anyway, TomTom, thanks for great maps and a lousy touch screen and user interface!

After buying the Slovenian Motorway Disc or Vignette, we headed off. One more tunnel, the Karawankentunnel, this time 8km long and we were on the home straight. With just 20km or so to go, we passed the turnings for Kranjska Gora and Bohinj, the old locations for Domancic’s Clinics. As it happens, the signs in Slovenia are excellent and we soon turned off the motorway and arrived in Bled. Passing Hotel Lovec on our left, the location of the clinic, our eyes turned to the stunning Lake Bled, it’s island chapel and cliff-top castle. We passed around the lake and soon saw the welcoming sign for Camping Bled. It was noon. Tomorrow we would go for biotherapy treatment at the clinic of Master Zdenko Domancic.

Germany & Austria

admin — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 17:52:58 +0000

We knew today would be a day just eating up the miles with the huge cities of Frankfurt, Stuttgart and Munich on our radar as we chugged toward the Austrian border. But first, breakfast! Travelling by camper has so many advantages. You bring your own comforable home with you without having the inconvenience of a giant trailer behind you; you have your own loo which we have chosen to use for “minor” visits only saving “major” visits for any one of the many ultra-high quality facilities on the way; your own bed and bedding to aid your restful night and (most importantly!) your own kitchen. It’s great to have a cuppa in your own cup in the morning and your own choice of cereal, all bought for supermarket prices, aids your preparations for the day.

We hit the road and soon signs for the impressive Frankfurt Airport began looming up on us. Frankfurt, like Heathrow, is one of the main hubs for Europe and there were extensive building works going on when we passed almost a year ago on our way to the UK from the Czech Republic. The enormous construction works were not yet complete but bearing the scale in mind, I’m not too surprised. It seems that the huge building to the left of the motorway as you drive South-East is being built from the centre out. Finally, we cleared Frankfurt and the roads quieten down a little as we left the commuter areas and rush hour behind.

We have a good German friend who, apart from being very switched on, is an endless fountain of knowledge, support and wisdom. He advised us that Germany would likely be the best place to get provisions for our stay in Slovenia. We checked our TomTom for the closest supermarket and found an Aldi within 5km. When we got there, much to our complete indifference, it turned out to be a Lidl. Once you get past the no-frills style, there is some brilliant food available. I’ve never been into a Lidl in the UK and am not sure if it stocks the same foods or not, but here in Germany we found the most wonderful gourmet salami, sausage, cheese, yoghurt, fruit and veg. We left with a huge stock of food for two weeks for far less that our usual weekly food bill and hit the road once again.

Finally, the Austrian border came upon us and we had a choice to make. In Austria, much like the Czech Republic, you must buy a special ticket to use the motorway. This is something like a tax-disc and is available for 10 days, 1 month or a year. We checked the TomTom once again for a non-toll route and were presented with a viable option. The distance was about the same but the time was much, much, much longer time. We decided to use the motorway and buy the toll-disc which was only €7. So far, so good. Crossing this slim part of Austria didn’t take long at all and we soon got close to the border with Slovenia. Before the border were a series of tunnels through the mountains for which an additional toll must be paid. We decided to check the TomTom again for another route and this time decided to give it a try. With the light now gone, these tiny village roads were extremely slow going and, spending most of our time in 3rd gear, we soon realised that this was certainly going to be a false economy. We reversed ourselves and finally made it back onto the motorway and 5th gear. We arrived at the toll to find it was just €9.50 for the tunnel. The tunnel turned out to be over 4km long. If you’ve never driven through a seriously long tunnel, it’s a little odd at first especially if they are more or less straight like this one. The fumes hang in the air as the enormous fans fail spectacularly to vent the exhaust gases and smog sits in the air as the headlights cut creamy cones into the darkness. Another tunnel, this time shorter at only 3km, and it’s time to pull over for the night.

Dunkerque

admin — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 17:48:57 +0000

Bonjour! We’ve arrived here in France and it’s all road from here on out. We still have 1600km to go but with 400 miles under our belts from the journey up from Cornwall, we’re not daunted by the distance; we’re going to take it easy with plenty of breaks for little Ilya.

Our TomTom took a while to figure out the route once it realised we weren’t in Dover anymore but finally we were underway and heading towards Belgium. The port area around Dunkerque is pretty industrial and it’s not the nicest place to drive through. It also gives you a pretty bad impression of France and for those who haven’t ventured further a field, it’s hard to believe that the Loire Valley, the Mediterranean Coastline and Les Trois Vallee are also in this country. They are, however, not on our route so we’ll have to make do with industrial ports.

The van’s running smoothly and eating away at the tarmac as we leave the industrial and emerge into… the industrial, but this time we are on the Belgian side of the border. This would be soon mark the end of my already limited communication skills we gradually passed from French to Flemish.

We’ve been on the road in Belgium now for some hours and finally the industry has given way to the urban, the city, the town and finally, the rural. With the flat surroundings and slightly raised roads, this makes the drive far more scenic.

Just as things start to get more urban once again – BANG!!!! A sudden jolt and a change of handling tell us something is not right at all. It looks from the side mirror that the tyre has blown as we pull onto the hard shoulder to investigate. I always thought that some of the European driving regulations were a little over the top but as I step out onto the hard shoulder in my luminous yellow vest, carrying my warning triangle, I am pretty glad that they are with us. I walk back to place the triangle the regulation 50m behind us as the never ending train of Euro trucks thunder past. Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, Greece, Romania, Slovakia; they’re all on their way back home to their families after delivering to the UK, France and Belgium. I wonder how much fuel could be saved by eating and using only local produce and materials but as I am driving an Italian van 2000km across Europe myself, I can’t be too critically.

Back at the the tyre, I see a rip so large that I could likely climb in should I wish. I drop the spare out from under the van. We had been attempting to replace the spare for a couple of weeks as it was almost completely bald, much like myself. Each place we had visited had told us either that they could order one for us but didn’t know when it would be in or that they didn’t stock that size. The van, unusually it seems, has 16″ wheels and not 15″ wheels as it normal for it’s type. This meant that the spare had slipped through the net during our preparations and maintenance and so now, as I knelt by the side of the motorway, I placed our perfectly smooth spare onto the camper.

For fuel economy, we had chosen to drive around 60 mph for the whole trip though the van will comfortably do 85-90 mph (speed limits permitting) without issue. Now, as I folded the warning triangle, clambered back into the driving seat and started the engine, I glanced back in the side mirror at the baby smooth tyre now adorning our camper. 60mph seemed a little quick for such a veteran and we realised now that with such a poor tyre and no spare that we needed to find the closest tyre service and rectify this somewhat uneasy situation.

After stopping at the first motorway services, we were told that there way nothing like that anywhere near here. It seemed strange that Belgians, with their lovely cars and frequent trips, had no need for such a service. The second service station yielded almost the same result until, about to leave, we were told to try the next exit about 10km away. We pulled off the motorway and stopped again, this time at a small, local petrol station. They were far more helpful and even drew us a map and wrote down the name of our destination along with directions. Sadly, our destination was not so helpful. They did not stock tyres for commercial vehicles at all but said to try around the corner and along the road a few kilometers.

Finally, we pulled in to the biggest tyre stockist we’ve ever seen! They had 1 kind of tyre available in our size but two of them in stock – our worries were over (apart from the bill!) and they were even good enough to rotate the tyres for us so they the new tyres were on the front drive wheels and the most worn tyre became the new spare. We wouldn’t have chosen to have such decadent tyres as Goodyear Cargo had we got them back at home but with Autumn well under way and our destination in the Julian Alps, it’s very nice to know that we have them.

At last, we were under way again and crossed the border into Germany with another country under our collective belt. I love driving in Germany, perhaps because in the past I’ve always taken it easy on the autobahn and not been tempted to go flat out. We cruised along with the lorries, going slightly fast than them, pulling out just to overtake occasionally. Although it must be fun for a while hammering along in your Mercedes S Class or Audi R8, it must add so much unnecessary stress to your life. I remember my days of being on the road in the UK visiting various customers and being expected to clock up huge distances in a day. The stress eats into you until it feels like it is part of who you are. You find yourself enraged by the smallest thing and utterly driven by the unnecessary material items that make up your “life”. We count ourselves as lucky to have been though an experience so “real” that it provides a lasting filter to sieve out the rubbish from our lives. Loosing a child must surely be the hardest thing anyone can experience but at the same time you are blessed with a gift to see what is truly important.

As the sun set we stopped for a break and decided to drive a while longer before stopping for the night. In Europe, you can stop for the night at the side of the road or at a motorway services every 10 miles or so. The UK now has a limit of 2 hours at most motorway services meaning that if you are travelling with a family, you must balance your time between caring for them, checking your vehicle and getting some rest. After 2 hours you must pay for the privilege of sleeping in your own car – unbelievable.

We stopped at Bad Camberg services for the night en route to Frankfurt, Munich and ultimately Slovenia.

Sweet dreams.

On the ferry.

admin — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 04:52:03 +0000

The wonders of technology! Here we are on the ferry using Norfolk Line’s free Wi-Fi!

Catching a ferry (or a fiight) always makes me a bit unsettled. Though I’ve never missed either, I always worry about getting to port with plenty of time to spare. We got to Dover at 2am at took the oportunity to grab a couple of hours sleep before check-in. The new bed was really comfortable but soon the 4am alarm sounded and it was time to fire up the kettle for a swift brew.

Ferries are usually pretty uncomfortable but we found a great little spot here full of cushions and more the kind of place you’d expect in a tea house.

We should be at Dunkurque around 8am our time – 9am local time. Looking forward to breakfast in France

More soon, folks!

Little man’s new throne

admin — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 22:28:37 +0000