Nothing Happens by Chance. Natrium Phosphoricum

Do you know what the most brilliant homeopathic prescriptions are?

They’re the ones after which a patient, some time later, says:

"Oh, I totally forgot I even had that!"

Or: "Did I really have that problem?"

Or sometimes even: "Ah, that… well, it went away on its own, and it didn’t bother me much anyway."

And yet, when we first met, this patient was deeply troubled by the issue — like chronic insomnia or painful heartburn.

This is when homeopathy worked so precisely, so masterfully, that the person didn’t even notice they’d healed. Homeopathy erased not only the illness but also the memory of it. The patient became someone new — healthy. And now this "healthy state" feels so natural that the mind refuses to believe it was ever any other way. It doesn't want to return — even in thought — to that uncomfortable, unhealthy past.

Some homeopaths might feel a little offended by this and start explaining to the patient how and why the recovery happened (which often irritates people who just want to live their new life, illness-free))).

But a wise doctor stays silent or simply smiles — because the goal has been reached: Sick → Healthy.

Something like that happened to me personally — when I experienced the miracle of a truly right homeopathic prescription for the first time.

And only 15 years later did I finally understand what had actually happened.

In 2004, I was in a car accident and — by some miracle — survived.

Several complicated surgeries on the bones in my arms under deep anesthesia, a traumatic brain injury, a cocktail of allopathic medications (anticonvulsants, antidepressants, sleeping pills, etc.), plus endless sleepless nights and work…

This went on for three years. By the spring of 2007, my beloved and I even broke up — he just couldn’t bear this endless cycle of illness and treatment anymore.

I was left alone — surrounded by a mountain of pills, asthenia, anorexia, insomnia, no libido, and zero will to live.

It was hard to even call me a living person.

The doctors, whose prescriptions I followed religiously, told my future husband that nothing was really helping. And, as a functioning organism, I probably wouldn’t last more than a month or two. After that — whatever happens: either a hospital (with all the sad consequences — which I would most likely refuse) or death.

A close friend suggested I visit his uncle — a gastroenterologist who was passionate about homeopathy.

Not with all my “collection” of health problems — just for esophagitis.

And I thought — why not?

My mother-in-law had completed homeopathy courses, and thanks to her, I would sometimes take combination remedies like Antigrippin, or Belladonna 200C and Gelsemium 30C during colds. I treated it like vitamins: colds passed easier and faster.

I imagined the doctor would give me something like Rennie — a pill to take after meals to reduce heartburn.

But I had absolutely no idea how homeopathy might actually work.

The appointment was very short. The case history even shorter. The doctor was only interested in gastric symptoms. And he prescribed Natrium phosphoricum 200C and Colchicum 30C.

Two remedies in a row — definitely not classic homeopathy. And for frequent dosing over three months!

But both turned out to be so similar to me that, for the first time, I experienced the real magic of homeopathy. Although I didn’t realize it at all back then.

I’ll tell the story of Colchicum separately one day.

But when it comes to Natrium phosphoricum — now I can see exactly what the doctor was thinking.

This remedy is typically prescribed for hyperacidity, sour belching, a sour taste in the mouth… even sour vomiting. And I had all of that.

The doctor saw a patient with weak muscles, suffering from sour belching and heartburn — and made his choice.

But Natrium phosphoricum turned out to be not just about acidity.

It turned out to be my remedy.

Not only the gastric symptoms matched. The whole portrait of the remedy — it was like reading about myself.

Morrison says it’s the most refined and sensitive remedy among all the Natriums.

“Somewhat discontented; irritable when someone intrudes into their life; often extremely intolerant of advice — not criticism like other Natriums — but friendly advice; restless and fussy despite their fatigue.”

And while Scholten sometimes seems like a wild dreamer to me, his description of this remedy fit me perfectly back then.

His key idea about this group?

Communication ban.

There’s always something the patient would never, ever talk about — and will skillfully dodge around in conversations.

One example of that “communication ban” theme?

A fear of phone calls.

Because they catch you off guard.

I used to rehearse everything I wanted to say — sometimes late at night, sometimes in writing. I’d even memorize it.

But if the phone rang out of nowhere — panic. Total inner chaos.

I’d end up blurting out something random or even revealing a personal secret, then agonize over it for days, trying to figure out how to “fix” what I said.

So I’d just switch my phone off for two or three days… sometimes even a week.  (Now that sounds absolutely insane!)

Another angle from Scholten — which also resonated with me — was the sensation that something blocks your thinking. Like your mind moves in slow motion.

And you feel like any problem — in school, in life — has to be solved on your own. Asking questions or being curious?

Not allowed.

You’ve got to handle it all — alone.

So yeah… a little more than just “acid reflux,” right? 😉

I’m pretty sure that doctor, when prescribing me Natrium phosphoricum, had no idea how deep this remedy would go for me.

And fun fact — Natrium phosphoricum is also one of the twelve Schuessler salts.

Now, I’m not someone who’s especially devoted to Schuessler’s method — but still, it’s interesting to remember that he saw these salts as tools for activating self-healing, gently bringing both body and emotions back into balance.

And in my case? That’s exactly what happened.

About two weeks after starting the remedy, everything inside me began to shift.

It was stunning.

Like… your body just relaxes. Not because you force it — it just happens.

You stop worrying, stop panicking, stop crying, stop overthinking, stop being stuck in sadness or fear.

You feel like you’re sixteen again, a little drunk on love, a little drunk on wine… and just absolutely, effortlessly happy.

I remember walking down Khreshchatyk Avenue in Kyiv, the chestnut trees in bloom, the whole city alive with spring — and I was blooming right alongside them.

That feeling — of youth, joy, inner peace, quiet confidence — it was pure heaven on Earth.

And when your emotional and mental state comes back to life — the body begins to follow.

Slowly, of course — this wasn’t a quick recovery. My case was pretty advanced.

Little by little, my hands and feet became warm again.

I started falling asleep without sleeping pills — first at 4 AM… then, gradually, closer to midnight.

Anorexia didn’t disappear overnight either. But I began to feel — almost instinctively — that I needed to eat. I didn’t want much, but I had always loved sweets.

So I came up with my own little ritual: instead of going to work in the mornings, I’d walk down to the bakery next door… and buy a cake.

I would eat it throughout the day. No fridge, no saving it for later. And the next morning — I’d throw away what was left and go buy a fresh, beautiful new one.

Cream roses, chocolate curls, shiny sugar beads, delicate icing — somehow all this beauty woke up my appetite, little by little.

I’d sit in my pajamas by my computer, put on some French New Wave films or Jim Jarmusch movies, place my cake beside me… and just try to enjoy my food, my day, my life.

And — absolutely — not go to work 🤩

And then… I started reading.

Really reading — for pleasure.

Before that, there was always some kind of wall between me and books. I read for work, for school, to keep up, to be “smart”... but never really for joy.

And now — I rediscovered books like they were old friends I hadn’t seen in years.

A couple of months later, I quit my job as an interior designer.

Step by step, I began lowering the dose of my anticonvulsants — and eventually stopped them completely.

It was a huge risk. If you’ve ever gotten trapped in that system, you know — quitting is brutally hard. The withdrawal can be worse than the disease itself.

But I didn’t care anymore.

The seizures stayed exactly the same — whether I was taking medication (with ever-increasing doses) or not.

Conventional medicine, in my case, showed its true face — pure suppression, chronic conditions, and zero hope for real healing.

 

And all I wanted at that moment … was to live.

I came back to my Love. And that autumn — we got married.

At the time, I thought this sudden shift in my health came from working with a bioenergetic healer.

Because when you're searching for a lifeline, you grab onto anything — and she was one of those “anythings.”

I actually loved those sessions.

I could feel her energy as I walked up to her building. Suddenly I’d realize I was relaxing, smiling — as if someone was gently making me do it. By the time I reached the 8th floor, I was laughing.

Now I wonder: maybe she just redirected my path — toward homeopathy.

Because those three years on allopathic meds were hell. And someone had to pull me out of their iron grip.

I never connected my new, wonderful state to homeopathy — because the esophagitis didn’t go away! It stuck around for quite a while. It had a completely different etiology, nothing to do with Natrium phosphoricum.

The realization that it was Natrium phosphoricum that had hit the mark — that came only much later.

I often revisit my old notes and prescriptions. I reread remedies and reflect on what happened afterward. And one day, looking at my very first homeopathic prescription — from fifteen years ago — everything just clicked.

And for many years — without even realizing it! — I kept telling my anorexic and depressed friends: "Eat cake. Don’t take pills. And for heaven’s sake, stop working like a horse."

The doctor never knew what happiness he gave me. I never saw him again. My complaints were only about digestion, and I assume his prescription was aimed at quick relief.

But this story chose me for a reason. I unraveled it backwards — because I became a homeopath. I simply couldn’t not become one.

Because nothing happens by chance 😉

Written in the spring of 2022 — fifteen years after my first dose of Natrium phosphoricum.