Patient stories

The Belief That I Can Stand Again:
Moving Beyond CRPS Toward Functional Recovery

  • Before my injury, I was a person who took great pride in my health. My body, strengthened by years of consistent exercise, was my pride, and I truly believed that living a life full of energy was a natural right. But an unexpected accident in 2013 changed everything. The nerve damage in my limbs and the pain in my spine that followed brought about a living hell that the word "pain" simply cannot describe.
  • Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). This condition—with a name I hadn't even heard of back then—began to consume my entire body. From spinal issues to panic disorder, anxiety, and depression, I eventually received a total of 17 different diagnoses from university hospitals. My arms and legs lost all strength as if they were paralyzed. Because of the agony, I wasn't allowed the simple comfort of sitting, standing, or even just lying still. I went from hospital to hospital for injections and medications, but the relief never lasted. Within days, the pain would come crashing back like a wave, and I sank into a deep despair, thinking I’d have to live with an incurable disability forever.
  • Everything changed when I started this treatment. For the first time, I saw a possibility that went beyond just "managing" the pain. The medical team didn't just try to numb the symptoms; they focused on reviving my damaged nerve functions and restoring my body’s balance to create a "body that can move again."
  • As the treatments continued, miraculous changes began to happen. Little by little, the time I could spend sitting increased, and the sharp, systemic pain that ruled my life began to lose its grip. Even the CRPS symptoms in my teeth, which had been a constant torment, finally started to fade. I gradually found the courage to step back out into the world.
  • There was a time when my daily life had completely collapsed because of pain so severe that even narcotic painkillers couldn't touch it. But now, I’ve recovered enough to walk on my own. Today, I walk independently with the help of a cane. To a passerby, it might look like an ordinary step, but to me, it is the most precious progress in the world. My condition has improved so much that people I meet don't even realize I was once a patient struggling with a severe, life-altering disability.
  • My goal is clear: "To walk on my own two feet, without a cane, just like everyone else." I am now certain that this isn't just a dream—it is a reality waiting for me in the near future. I hope my story can be a light for those who are trapped in the darkness of pain and losing hope. I will never give up, and by staying focused on my functional recovery, I will live each day with a heart full of gratitude for the simple happiness of daily life.