Page 16 - The Mirror of My Soul. Vol. 1

Nicolai Levashov. The Mirror of My Soul. Vol. 1. Born in the USSR

consequences, and I wasn’t ready to learn it from my own experience. In several minutes

the strong bleeding stopped and in a few more minutes ceased entirely, which made me
extraordinarily glad. When I arrived home within thirty to forty minutes, the wound on
my wrist was already completely healed.

When my mother and her younger sister, also a medical worker, saw me with a
bloody hand, or more precisely, with a blood-soaked newspaper, they were very scared
at first. However, as soon as I removed the now unnecessary newspaper, they were more
surprised than scared. They began to examine carefully such an insignificant (from my
point of view) wound and, the longer they examined it, the greater their surprise, which
was incomprehensible to me.

The only positive spin for me was that I was neither punished nor forbidden to
return to my “super important” affairs—i.e., the games and exploration with my friends

of the seemingly enormous and magnificent park across the road with all its unexplored
“thickets” full of riddles.

The surprise of our “family physicians” was absolutely incomprehensible to me
then. I was in blissful ignorance of it until I began studying anatomy at school. And
only then did I understand why my mother and her sister were so shocked and
surprised. I realized that during my adventure I had accidentally severed the humeral
artery in my left arm. Certainly, the pressure in this artery in the area of the wrist is not
as high as in the area of the shoulder. However, according to all conventional medical
wisdom, arterial bleeding cannot stop on its own or simply when one wishes it.

Standard procedure requires a tight tourniquet to be placed above a gushing wound
for no more than two hours; otherwise tissues deprived of blood flow will begin to die
off. Also, during compression by the tourniquet, the artery must be stitched up. Nothing
of the kind was done in my case. Without tourniquet compression I should have lost all
my blood long before the cart could have reached the farm. From the standpoint of
medicine what happened to me was simply impossible.

I had merely to wish strongly and it was enough to stop the bleeding, to turn the
impossible into the possible. And now my mother and aunt’s surprise and confusion
became clear. They, as physicians, understood perfectly exactly what had happened to
me! I have a scar on my wrist in memory of this accident.

A great number of similar accidents happened to me; most of these should have led
to deplorable results, but all of them terminated quite positively. At first I thought it was
because I was just lucky, but, at some point, perpetual luck stops being that and becomes
something else. What? In those days I didn’t reflect about such things—just as I didn’t
reflect about why, when I wished something very much, my wishes would come true.

I wished for sunny weather and the clouds would disappear; I craved a summer
shower or thunderstorm and rain drops would fall upon the earth. Negative situations
would occur and after a while they disappeared like a fog hit by sunbeams. I saw nothing
special about it. That was my experience—I didn’t have any other kind. There is simply
nothing to compare this with until one starts to share his experience with someone else.
Until then I considered that all of it was quite natural and ordinary.

At almost the same age (only it was in the winter) another interesting accident
happened to me. The snow in Kislovodsk did not stay on the ground all winter and we
boys were always de-lighted when the earth was covered with a snow carpet. Kislovodsk

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