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About Artyom Moiseenko

Vladivostok. The city where I was born. The city where I would live for my whole life if all the things that have happened to me could not exist. Thirteen years ago, a driver who’s car I was driven in, lost control of the car and as a result I injured my spine and became an invalid. I spent long time in the resuscitation department, (I do not remember it myself), and when I came to I could hardly talk. I was just laying and looking at the ceiling. I was thinking about my childhood. How I was playing hockey with my friends and how I was the best goal-scorer in our city. I remembered how I was running on my healthy legs. Remembered how summer began and we ran to swim. Summer was always warm and humid and everyone found something new in summer rain’s freshness. Sensations returned little by little. At first I felt only my head, like there was nothing below it. Then the sensation of the body returned but not the whole and not at once, but very slowly and by parts. Return was painful and unpleasant. Even worse than just unpleasant. When I was massaged it seemed to me that this part I felt, but that one I did not. The most pleasant was the feet massage. I just purred like a cat laying in the sun during the procedure. It was the best I felt then. And I had to feel a lot. My pelvis ached very much. I’ve already begun to believe that some small creatures lived in it and sawed, sawed and sawed it.
I didn’t enjoy my first conversation with my doctor at all. It rather just killed me. Understanding that at 20 you wouldn’t have an opportunity to walk any more was very painful. How is that? I had so many plans, so many ideas. And where was that all? What would happen to my life further? What? The doctor tried to calm me down, told me some stories about people who could walk in time. I hardly believed him. I knew that as a result of injure my blood vessels somehow had clogged up, and it’s not possible simply to surge me and clean it out. In the hospital they told me that they had tried to surge one patient in such way but he only felt worse. Moreover I understood that it was not the main reason. – Doctor, why don’t I feel my legs?
– It’s difficult to explain. Because the current in your spinal marrow doesn’t reach your legs. And perhaps the main reason is your injured spine.
– Doctor, will I walk?
– Maybe.
I was thinking on this “maybe” for a long time. I dreamed about the accident, or rather its pieces, which my memory snatched out, or my childhood and playing football with my fellows. These dreams didn’t give me any joy, I woke up in tears. There was no desire for living.
The doctor raised my hand and told me “hold up”. And when he released it, my hand plopped down on my face leaving a bruise. The doctor frowned and kept silence. I began to heave the dumbbells to learn how to use my hands. All these trainings were very hard for me. But I began to succeed in holding them. At the same time such trainings taught me to hold a spoon and eat. Before it my mother and sister had to feed me. My friends came. But I felt like guilty. They were looking at me, tried to cheer me up, but only compassion was read in their eyes. I didn’t feel depressed, talked to them, said that I would walk again soon and even made plans about our future trips to the islands of the Japanese sea. They listened to me, nodded but then ran away to do their own businesses. And I left face to face with my pain, with distressing thoughts and implacable whiteness of hospital ward.
I spent 2 months in the hospital. I sustained a surgery, which was to help me. But no miracle happened and they told me to go home. At home, lying in bed I was thinking what to do. We had no money, and the medicine expenses ate up all our savings. Some money my farther brought. He worked on a ship for a half of a year than came back home for three days and then left again. This money was enough for several months. Those times my mother worked in a kindergarten and when father’s money ended she hardly made ends meet. And I just lay and didn’t know how to help her. It was necessary to do something, but what? Nothing had changed during the 4 months which I spent at home. Friends brighten up my sufferings, came to play chess and to talk to me. Honestly speaking, monument should be build to everyone who came. How much have they done for me: they’ve helped my Mom to clean the house, have done everything we’ve asked, and haven’t let me shrink into my shell – ant it’s very important. Also I want to thank my neighbours – they haven’t left me. They brought us vegetables, fruit and berries – their gardens’ and vegetable gardens’ harvest. All days I spent lying in my bed. Suddenly I understood that while lying my muscles could atrophy. Just something clicked in my head. I began to look for a place where I they could help me and finally found “The Sad-Gorod”, which is the eldest mud cure resort in Primorskiy region. It was situated in Vladivostok suburbs, on the Amurskiy bay shore. The fact sheet said that: “The basis of its medical treatment is silt mud from the bay, sea-water baths and mineralm water “Shmakovskiy Narzan”. Here You can take a course of mud cure, different baths, hydro-massage, manual therapy, electro light cure, laser therapy, acupuncture”. All that made me interested and I made all efforts to get there. There was an effect. What is “was”? I was happy as a child when I was taught to move on my knees. I could MOVE again. My mother and sister emptied a room for me and left only a bed there. Every morning I crept from my bed to the linoleum and slowly moved from the window to the door and back. Right in those times I decided that “I will walk!” But only a wish was not enough – I began to look for the answer. And where to look? Who could tell me about a magic pill which would make me free of my problems?
And I had many problems, for example I couldn’t control my urination. You want to pee – but can’t make yourselves do it, or you don’t want – but pee. The same was with my bowels. Strange things happened to my body. I didn’t feel my skin. As if it exists, you look at it – of course, here it is; but you do not feel it. So, I began to look for the answer. I understood that I needed to communicate with clever and competent people. And where could I find them? Everything turned out very simply. – Artyom, why are you lying and lying, read something.
– What for example?
– I don’t know – something you like to read, - mother frowned.
– Try something medical. Maybe you’ll find something interesting.
I began with alternative literature, because it seemed that classical medical books wouldn’t give me any true knowledge. And I knew for sure that I should dig in other places.
1. The first thing I’ve read was a book by Fereydoon Batmanghelidj “YOUR BODY'S MANY CRIES FOR WATER”, from “Health and Alternative medicine” series. Some parts of this book I remembered for my whole life: “Your organism needs minimum six-eight glasses of water a day. Alcohol, coffee, tea and other beverages containing caffeine do not replace water. The optimal time for drinking water (as a result of patients having stomach ulcer clinical observation): one glass half an hour before the meal (breakfast, dinner and supper) and one glass in two hours and a half after the meal. This is the minimum of water your organism needs. After a
hearty meal and before sleep it’s recommended to drink one more glass of water.”
2. I don’t remember who has recommended it to me, but I had a book “Forever You” by Lobsang Rampa. To be short, there are thirty lessons of mental development , taught by Tibetan lama, a great master of occultism and wonderful author. This book is about things, often called preternatural. I’m not speaking about aliens or Voodoo magic. I tell you about karma, aura, astral and understanding of who you are and what is your subconsciousness.
3. Levshinov Andrey “Stomach is life. Lessons of health.” How is it possible to cure many diseases sitting at the dinner table? How to strengthen your family knowing your “taste of love”? How to become rich using the rules of meals?
Harmony – this is the main theme of this book. Physical and spiritual food turns out to be inseparably linked, and body and soul support and heal each other.
4. Luule Viilma “A Teaching of Survival”. The author of series of books, many years experienced specialist in medical and spiritual practice, tells about her doctrine. Its main idea is that after learning to think in right way and to forgive yourselves in the widest sense, a person finds health, happiness and peace of mind.
5. Arthur Freeman, Rose Dewolf “The 10 Dumbest Mistakes Smart People Make and How to Avoid Them: Simple and Sure Techniques for Gaining Greater Control of Your Life”. This book is a real treasure. As the authors think, there are ten main mistakes that people make:
– Syndrome of a Little Chicken. There is a fairy tale: a nut fell down on the Little Chicken from the tree but Little Chicken thought that the dome of heaven fell down on it. People often draw a disastrous conclusion, not thinking if they appraised the situation right; fear often petrifys a person.
– Thought-reading. This mistake includes two parts. At first, we are often sure that can read other’s thoughts. Secondly, we are sure in other’s abilities to read out thoughts (“She (he) might have known it!”)but the person himself can even not think that we are waiting for some special movements from him, and his “wrong”
(from our point of view ) behavior leads us to a deep disappointment.
– Propensity towards taking everything as referring to yourself. Many people are ready to bear personal responsibility for everything that happens around them. When something goes wrong they naturally become very sad. – “Confidence in your press secretary”. Rest on one's laurels, excessive optimism, which turns into a self-conceit. Confidence that success in one sphere automatically makes us successful everywhere without any efforts.
– Confidence in critics. It is to take seriously any criticism concerning you, without thinking if it is true.
– Maximalism (perfectionism). It’s a desire for perfection in everything, excessive self-exactingness.
– Painful comparison. It’s paying attention only to those differences which are not in your favour.
– “What if….”. In this case a person is worrying about something that maybe doesn’t exist at all (or the probability of it is very small).
– “You must!”. If you use it to yourself too often it’s a mistake.
– “Yes, but ....” Searching around for some negative aspects that outweigh the positive. Rejecting any proposals leading to the way out from a difficult situation.
Writing of fantastic excuses for any negative consequences. More about these mistakes in the book.
6. Robin Sharma “The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari ”. “This exciting book delights and teaches at the same time”, - Paulo Coelho about Robin Shrma’s book. I can only agree.
7. Bodo Schafer “Money or The 1x1 with the money” (original name Bodo Schafer Money, Oder 1x1 des Geldes). It is a manual, which tells how to become rich playfully. Money or the 1x1 with the money is written if form of a story. Lessons from “The path to financial independence” were also used there. The story describes problems encountered along the way, and what comes out of it. Money - it is a talking dog, who teaches 12 y.o. girl how to deal with the money. And Kira doesn’t only learn how to deal with money, she also helps her
parents to get rid of financial difficulties. What will you get from reading this book? If you already learned “The Path to financial independence”, Money will extend your understanding of a problem. Perhaps you will find new targets (and old ones). But what is more important, you will be able to look differently at your problems, to find new, creative solutions or even to take benefits from it. 8. Leil Lowndes “How to Make Anyone Like You. Proven Ways to Become a People Magnet” This book taught me to understand clearly what is friendship, and what is love. Just read it. However, as you know, reading all these books does not make you a demigod and superman. Firstly they are just tips. Enough right and smart tips, I have to notice. And, nevertheless, it is aware that this is only one, of course, the right way to understand who you are, and how to act in any situation. The choice is yours. To be more clear, I will give a Zen parable.
Lying on his deathbed, the Zen teacher called his closest apprentice, and took a book from under the pillow. Everyone was wondering what kind of book it was because teacher has never allowed anybody to look into it. Sometimes the students were peeking into the keyhole of his room when he was reading it at night.
Teacher has never left his room opened and never allowed anybody to come into the room without him. So no one saw what was written in this book. So he called his closest apprentice, and said:
– Keep this book. There is everything I taught in it. Keep it like, as you’ve seen, I kept. My teacher gave me that book. Now I give it to you.
This book is a heritage.
The apprentice took the book and threw it into the fire. The others couldn’t believe it. They were amazed. But the teacher put his hand on his apprentice’s head and blessed him. He said:
– You’ve understood. If you kept this book you wouldn’t be my follower.
There was nothing in this book. It was fluff. You threw it away – you were right. You’ve understood my apprenticeship: you shouldn’t follow somebody. Everyone should go into his own soul’s depth. I want to say that you should firstly focus on yourselves. Everyone has his own way and some knowledge can help you but other spoil everything. So just read these books and take something useful for you, how I’ve done. And the results didn’t keep me waiting. Moreover one case influenced me much. Before I went to “Sad-Gorod” for the
second time, once in a warm and rather calm evening I decided to go outdoors. I’ve been there so long ago, I haven’t been outdoors since the moment I returned from the rehabilitation centre. My sister helped me to get to the bench and evening noisy city opened to me. I was in dim feelings at that moment: the happiness of being outdoors, and the sadness about all evenings I spent with my friends long ago, and even a shock because I saw so many people around me, people whom I missed so much. They were going to their own businesses, some went home to their sofas and TV-sets, others from home to have rest and walk. My peers “captured”
the benches and the entrances to the houses, joked loudly and laughed.
“How much is around me” – I was thinking. But I’m alone and no one feel sorry for me. Only mother and sister, but they are my relatives and they always will love me and worry about me.
Stop! Why they should feel sorry for me? I’m healthy normal guy. Yes, I can’t walk now, but it’s temporary. Yes, there are many people like me in the world, and there those who feel worse then I, but life doesn’t stops it goes further and further.
And it throws away those who always cry and whine. And it’s not a display of cruelty, but on the contrary it’s a stimulus to stop and think of what wrong you’ve done. When I was lying at home for some reason I was thinking that the whole world has stopped and was just waiting for Artyom’s signal to start up again. But no! The speed of our life never goes lower and, though, never goes faster. And it is normal. I wanted to live fully so much. I wanted to communicate with people, to go to the cinema and theatre. I lose so much when I fence myself off everything.
– Olga, – I commanded to my sister, – we’re going home. That night I promised myself not to whine at all. And if it’ll be sad or anxiously – I’ll struggle with it immediately.
I always thought that if one method doesn’t work, it may not be true that another one will. But it’s necessary to try this “another one”.
Someone has told me that there was an old man living somewhere in our region. People always come to his place and he cures them. And all his medical tools were – herbals and prayers. They said that there were always crowds of people at his place and though he dealt not with every illness but tried to help the most part.
He didn’t take money on principle, only food or sometimes asked for help. In early Saturday morning, when the sun beams haven’t touched Vladivostok yet, we went to the old man’s place on our friend’s car. The road was long and rather unpleasant. Parts asphalted, parts forested it always shook and tossed us, and when I already had no believe that we would come, we drove to a small deserted village. As we were promised, there were crowds of people near the necessary house, so we had to wait it a long line and only after it to come in.
The old man received us normally. Not very good and not bad, just usual and calm. He showed the door to my suit, he set facing me on a chair and began to question me what and how, what my name was and how I got into the accident.
After talking to me for about ten minutes the healer stood up, went to a dark corner of the room, rustled there with something and then gave me several ointments of grey color and a bag with herbals. After giving me instructions to drink 3 times a day the first and to prepare decoctions for inhalations with the second, he told me to go home for two weeks.
I’ve done everything how he told me to do, but there was no outstanding result. Yes, it became easier for me to fall asleep at night, I didn’t cry while sleeping no more, my appetite became more or less stable, but I didn’t stand up.
In two weeks I met my doctor from the village again. He complained of my difficult case, and reminded that he has promised me nothing, because everything is in God’s will. He presented me scores of different herbals and told to go home again. I didn’t go to this old man, but the healers began to come to me. I didn’t go to this healer more, but the other healers began to come to my place. Rather quickly I began to differ those who could and wanted to help from those who just came to make money on Artyom Moiseyenko. Those who really were of benefit to me, often spoke little, behaved modestly and didn’t fawn upon me. The effect from these meetings undoubtedly was, but if it made me closer to my aim to stand up on my legs, it was too slowly. On the other
hand, if I didn’t cure at all, it was much worse.
Sometimes the healers told me honestly: “Sorry but only you can help yourself”, and didn’t cure me. In any case, I stayed in good and friendly relations with many of them. I remember how the said, leaving, that there was a fire in my eyes and it helped not only me, but stirred up a wish to live an active life in others.
I understood that I needed to try other variants. That’s how I began to practice yoga. A spiritual teacher Aleksey came to my place and we mastered different techniques remade special for me. Particularly, I mastered a wonderful manipulation called “Prakshalana Kriya”. It’s main idea is that you should serially, litre
by litre pour 5 litres of water into yourselves. It’s recommended to do it with a helper, in case of unexpected desire to go to the toilet. This cleaning treatment, though painful, promotes health improvement very good.
It was not easy to go deep into the theory and rules of yoga. For a half a year I have not only enriched my vocabulary, but achieved such amazing results which as Aleksey said, people achieved for years. I did everything exactly how he told me to do. I trained and trained every day until I had no more power.
I parted with my teacher very easily. His way continued in other directions, but I with a persistence of a bull butted the bounds of my possibilities further, to widen it. My desire to live only became stronger, and after yoga I felt only better, calmer and more harmonious. Every night I had a good sleep, so my neighbours had, whom I tormented much until my condition stabilized.
The walls in our house were very thin, and my shouts filtered through them very easy and spread all over the house lightening the windows. It was good that people displayed understanding and patience towards it.
Continuing to advance on all fronts, I did not refuse the classical treatment. A few months after the first trip I went to the «Sad-Gorod» again. Counting on a positive effect, which was in the first time, I was determined very positively and confident, but just in vain. The hospital didn’t help me. I came home upset because the doctor «delighted» me the news that the bedsores needed to be cut on the hip and elbow. Where did they come from? After all, I tried to move, yoga... As you know, I could not refuse the surgeon, and soon the white walls of the chamber changed my home wallpaper. Removal of bedsores is not easy, and I realized that everything will be under anesthesia, so that when I wake up, then everything would be done. It was impossible to postpone the surgeon for a long time, and in three days after I went to the hospital, the drove me to the operating room. A breath and…
When I woke up I was afraid to open my eyes. I decided to lie a little bit and to get used to new sensations in my body. I thought that even if my hip and elbow wouldn’t ache they’ll smart. But I felt quite different. A strange lightness occupied my body. Exactly strange because I felt not my body, but this strange lightness. I tried to move my hand and I did it. I raised my hand and opened my eyes at the same time, and I hardly didn’t shout because of what I’ve seen. My hand was absolutely transparent and I saw the chamber through it. I drew a conclusion that I either died or I was close to it. Continuing looking at my hand I noticed a light fume which drifted from the hand to the place where it was ly12 ing before. And at that moment it dawned upon me. Of course, it was my astral body. But why has it separated from my physical one? I did nothing for it. When I was studying yoga we practiced an astral walks with my teacher. Their main specialty is that astral body (transparent body or so called soul) is connected with the physical one by a thin silver thread and if you try to disconnect these bodies you can leave your physical in one place and walk with your soul not only in this world, but in the others, while being unnoticed by other people. I don’t advice to practice it yourself and without proper knowledge, because the invisible world is inhabited by different creatures which might be dangerous.
I did such “sallies” only under Aleksey’s attention. There is a number of methods how to separate the body and soul and each person prefers his own.
While I was thinking of all that, my astral part began to raise from the body itself.
When I was already soaring in two meters above my body, I was looking down and saw that besides the silver string connecting me with the body, a thin trickle of smoke went from Artyom to me. It became very well in a minute. So well that my head went round and I felt with my back how it pulled my away from the body.
Meanwhile, down there were worried doctors who so only that there were no pulse and if to delay a little bit more, Artyom Moiseyenko would continue his way but not in this world. Immediately they connected the body to the defibrillator, the command “clear” and… and suddenly I felt how it became hard. The air was filled with the smell of clay, dampness. Like in a time magnifier reverse the smoke stretched back down and with it I also was sucked down. I opened my eyes. Frightened faces of the doctors. White walls. A bright light of the lamp
over my head. How do you feel? What’s your name? How old are you? – there were so many questions and I could hardly answer them. I remembered everything very clear, I knew everything, but my tongue didn’t obey, my body ached, and I wanted only to sleep, sleep, sleep.
When I woke up after the surgery, I told the doctors everything. I thought they wouldn’t believe me, but as far as I saw such stories were quite usual for them, because they only congratulated me with the second birth, because they hardly saved me.
At home everything was as before: empty hall prepared for the exercises, my sister ready to help, and my mother who was sadly looking out the window.
There were so many reasons for sadness: mother’s salary, father’s and friends’ financial help were not enough. We had money only for bread. We economized on everything. We decided to boil disposable catheters and after the third sterilization like that, the material which they were made of, just crumbled. Then came the days when only salt and cereals left. Sometimes it came to that some people brought us food left from their meal, but we were happy to get it. So it continued, from day to day. It’s painful and unpleasant for me to think
of it, but maybe it were the ordeals which trained my will and desire to live in spite of everything.
There were so many thoughts in my head, so I didn’t even know how to realize them all, and at first I was afraid to make them into actions. But to be successful you should not only plan, but realize; and then I got down to business.

Artyom Moiseenko



“Kovcheg” - Social Organization of Spinal Cord Injury Invalids and People With Disabilities 2011.

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