Betrayed by my own body
My body had been giving me signs for weeks and i just did a palliative treatment. Little patch -and -go that only lasts for a while. In all fairness i did go to the hospital, I was on bed rest for a day and got all better! As a matter of fact i was well enough to go to work the next dayā¦ fast forward a week later Iām laid down in the back of a moving vehicle, in excruciating pain on my way back to the hospital only to get there and find out they closed down (no wonder their phone lines were off)
Another excruciating ride back to a āfamiliarā hospital Iāve used in the past and i feel the pain pulling me apart from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. āFor the sake of my mother! it canāt end in this vehicleā thatās the prayer Iām mumbling beneath any short heated breath i could catch in between the bursts of pain.. the last time i felt this sick was over 5 years ago so how this happened is beyond me! Definitely not a case of negligence; I guess your body just does whatever the fuck it wants. All the months of hard work, putting on some obvious kgās gone in the matter of hours. My body feeling absolutely drained and empty; dehydrated to my lips. The only recognizable sensation yet again is my dear sweet painā¦
Pain is subjective i understand but you canāt live this life we live.ā¦pain is a sensation i am very familiar with and have developed a solid threshold for, sometimes Iām in pain and Iām actually giggling and laughing which is so confusing to some. So for me to tell you something is excruciating! So much pain all you can actually do is laugh or cry, no strength to complain or groan (I sometimes can swear i know what a bullet wound feels like but that might sound exaggerated to some) speak to someone you know with sickle cell to describe pain to you.
You can easily just google āwhat sickle cell pain feels likeā
Link above for a couple of you who care enough to actually know what it feels like especially if you have friends or family that go through this..
Sometimes hearing āSorryā irks meā¦The more you know, the better your response to situations. I promise Iām not a dickhead, Iām typing from a place of immense pain and i also understand peopleās concern is from a place of care and sympathy which is highly appreciated but sometimes sympathy is not the response needed.. at least for someone like myself, that just leads to self pity and other depressive triggers. It helps to learn people you love, their situations and how different responses and reactions affect them. That is if the friendship is genuine. An acquaintance telling me sorry is very okay.
You know when people use the expression āHot tearsā? Well, this was more than an expression, my temperature was off the roof, skin was hot to the Tā ; hot tears of agony and maybe resignation literally streaming down my face and i really had to keep all this under some sort of control so my mother doesnāt begin panicking cos believe it or not whenever i go through a crisis, sheās going through it too on a level..
Couple of endless minutes later we arrive at the hospital and at this point my legs were the first thing to fail me. I know how to walk, why canāt my knees hold me up any more? Couple of unsuccessful trails and i give in to the very obvious; I had to be wheeled into a fucking hospital. Me? Dexter? These two legs i ran 2k with a couple of days ago? Fml.
Iām situated in a hospital bed finally and all sorts of needles and blood samples are taken, something for my pain and i can finally say i felt some sort of relief . My temperature dropped, pain subsided, migraine from all the sneezing and coughing reduced temporarily.. I was probably knocked out for a good 3 hours in deep sleep.. I wake up feeling way better! In my head Iām thinking; this time tomorrow Iāll be back home in my bed resting and thatās what I genuinely told my 2/3 close guys that knew i was hospitalized.
Itās the next morning, I didnāt enjoy my night in the hospital cos itās always lonely, quiet, bright and the air just gives me bad vibes; it reminds me of death from all my experiences. I was just grateful for being back on my two feet unassisted, had myself a nice shower, breakfast, took some meds and the doctor attended to me saying i was fine to go home later in the day! Victory!!! Lmfao SIKE! you thought!
Hours later and the first thing i notice is my blood boiling internally like there's garri in the room somewhere to be turned with it; My temperature going off the charts and immediately i notify the nurses to take my vitals again. lmfao you guys! this nurse had to take my blood pressure 5 solid times because the readings she was getting seemed so unreal for someone who was still somehow lucid. what can i say? I'm just a fighter! Minutes later and Iām back in the same pain that brought me here.
Wtf is this for God? (God forgive mešš¼) but yeah! What the fuck? If thereās going to be blasphemy, i might as well complete it; Sometimes i feel like God could literally hear my discomfort and pain and just decide not just to act š¤·š½āāļø. I end my blasphemous statements here and truly beg for forgiveness. its the pain lol.
Just like that I crash back into a docile state, unable to move, groaning in pain, hottest of tears because not just am i unwell, i also might not sleep in my bed for another couple of days and the hospital will do everything in itās power to milk this treatment for all the cash they can get (thatās what healthcare is like in this country, you either go private hospitals and spend a lot or try the Government hospitals and you die. The choice is yours, Iāve begged God for my life in a packed public hospital hallway before, I've lost people in these hospitals too so i know of the experience)
Anyway money is nothing compared to life so Iām still in here, fighting. My friends expecting to hear i was home find out Iām not, Iām not responding to messages or calls cos i really didnāt have the strength to, They want to come visit to lift my spirits lol.. itās funny to me but thoughtful on their path and i love them dearly for it but i have one very outrageous rule Iāve stuck to for years.. I don't really see the need to tell people Iām hospitalized and nobody comes to see me in the hospital if somehow they know. Not even my siblings as cynical as that might sound.. the last thing i want someone i care about to have is an image of me on a hospital bed in pain, fighting for my life. thatās not the last impression Iād want to leave on anyone. My mother on the other hand, there really isnāt a choice but i make sure she doesnāt sleep in the hospital with me especially when i feel well enough to do things on my own. Mentally, its torture for me. So yeah, no visitors and endeavor to keep information to yourself if i trust you enough to sharešš¼. Nobody likes a chatty patty, say a prayer for recovery, send me stuff to lift my mood; music, memes, whatever it is and keep it š æ.
My treatment started all over again and Iām feeling better although already i am irritable just off the fact Iām sleeping on a small ass hospital bed with the unwelcoming pillows for the foreseeable future. Another slow ass day goes by but i feel better at least but i know itās definitely going to be another night of āobservationā. The reason i go to familiar hospitals is because they know how to handle the situation, my dosages and what i need to get back on my feet in the quickest time possible. This place on the other hand; i donāt want to be ungrateful so I'll leave it at that. Thank God for life!šš¼
I hadnāt opened social media in a minute and i decided to cos i felt a bit better and guess what i see within the first minute; a friend of mine that lives in my estate died a couple of days agoā¦ my head is done in at this point I've just gone back to bed, trying to avoid this hell of a life and reality i find myself in. This is someone i saw less than a month ago grilling some fantastic chicken outside his spot ! Dead? How???
I mean, that could easily be me so why am i complaining about wanting a warm bed, soft pillows and a long shower? Nah! Deep it, the last time you saw me could easily have been the last! My guy is dead, heās never experiencing any of that nor seeing his family again.. what is life really ? This shit just hit me in ways i canāt describe. Iām not special! Nobody fucking is. Death is grounding and absolute. This death hasnāt even hit the closest to home this year but i can tell you for a fact on this hospital bed tonight, something in me has changed. Could i have imagined this year being worse than the last? Not in a million stars!
Itās the next morning, Iāve lost count of days but i know for certain Iām going home in a couple of hours even if I have to voluntarily discharge myself. That might sound intense and brash but i stand a better chance at home hydrating myself cos i still feel dehydrated. Itās going to be a long ass road to recovery; gaining all the lost weight, feeling like myself again, feeling well enough to be āsocialā, to run again but Iām always up for it. Not my first rodeo. My energy levels are really low and typing this entry through my crisis has been a good distraction from all this pain so I'm wrapping up here.
- Heartfelt condolences to families dealing with loss
- Enlightenment to the ungrateful who do not value life as it should be š«
- Life is brief, not everyone lives long enough to be old and grey; itās not a curse. Itās really just life and my experiences with and around death have formed a new sets of beliefs over time about living a genuine, fulfilling life for however long it is we are here for!
Love, light and good health to you and yours šš¼ā„ļø
Until i feel like myself again āļø
