Health : My unique experience !

Every human needs a measure of respect. Yes respect! But that is a far cry from what I experienced on a daily basis. 

I remember vividly how I used to enjoy those swimming lessons. My swimming instructor told me the ideal condition was for me to learn those swimming skills for a whopping nine months. 

She started with lesson on the dog paddle and when I had qualified enough, we moved on to the Australian crawl. She meticulously taught me how to throw my arms overhead alternately accompanied by those flutter kicks. The breast and back strokes were the last moves she taught me....but she saved the diving skills for last.

I thought I had qualified to do the diving skills where I could roll and enter the pool with my head. No, you are not yet ready for the engagement! That happens closer to the ninth month and you are not to even think about it...Engagement? Nice word huh!

There was also this wonderful understanding between us... that until the full nine months I had no business releasing my anal sphincter into the swimming pool. "You will not want to swim in a dirty pool" was how she ended that stern warning. The truth though was that I had no intentions of fouling my pool because I really enjoyed that pool. 

I got everything from it- just name it! Food was not a problem. What was intriguing about the food was that I didn't need to swallow. By some miraculous way, it passed through that tube which also helped me to breathe under that pool. So far as that tube remained patent, voila! Life was sweet!

Food and air are not the only thing I miss about that swimming pool, the milieu temperature was optimum. There was nothing like temperature variations in that pool. Certainly, there was nothing like this "dumso, dumso" experience and I never needed to queue for fuel.

The fuel price remained stable throughout my stay.  I could feel the black bile, sourly bitter, rise in my throat, overflowing through tightly clenched gums, the first time I heard about the word inflation and its meaning - suffice to say that there was no such word in our syllables. Nothing beats those good old days.

To crown it all, I also enjoyed RESPECT! My instructor carried me tenderly and gingerly wherever I wanted to go. Because she was in charge of the breathing tubes, I only needed so much as a kick and she will respond in a very kind and respectful manner. Those were the "better than ever" moments.

Then it suddenly happened! In my inexperienced mind, I penned it down as a fault coming from my swimming instructor. Why? she decided to retain more fluids in an attempt to maintain my pool. 

Even more intriguing is where she stored those fluids. Her nicely pointed nose suddenly swelled up. I once took a peep downwards and realised how huge her feet have become. 

I whispered to her to limit her water intake but she wouldn't have it. My happiness was her number one priority. I was so excited when she had to put a stick in her urine for a test at the doctor's office. 

As much as the doctor tried not to reveal his emotions, I could see  deep behind those well manicured smiles, a thick wad of worry. I continued my earnest prayer as the kafu.... Kafu sound of that mouthful word...sphyg...mo..ma..no..meter - went on until the hissing sound rattled me awake. 

At long last, the fluid is being drained from my instructor's hand I imagined.  Yaay!!! I screamed, soon the legs will also be wrapped and everything will be fine.

The next thing I heard was a mumble of some letters being high..... I think it was B...P and that my swimming lessons needed to be cut short. Oh!!!! but I have two months more to go but the "who cares" look angrily shot in my direction from the doctor made me freeze mid stream and swallowed the last bit of my protest.

 Frankly, I don't recall any of the events that took place after that. What I remember vividly was that same doctor holding my leg with my head facing downwards rubbing my back. 

To my rudest shock, the whole room burst into laughter and "thanks be to God" reverberated loudly throughout the room when I started to cry. "This is plain nuts"! I thought.

Then came this shamefaced  woman in green with that funny scarf who, without so much of a glance, took me and poked some tubes into my nostrils. 

“Out of control, I leaned forward toward her face and shouted hoarsely amidst frantic punches, “You will weep as I am weeping now" and what was her response? The suctioning went well" when asked how I was doing.

I was put on a flat pan and a shout of 1.1kg heard. I also heard about something K and before I realised, a very sharp pain tore through my thigh. 

What annoyed me most was that smirk she wore as she inflicted that pain on me. My shouts of "sadist, sadist, stop her" did not even turn heads.

Are all these people deaf? I soliloquised. How come they all seem so indifferent about my ordeal? In the midst of my confusion, four letters faintly caught my attention...N...I....C....U. Then I could hear it clearly- take him to NICU and fast please!

Since I knew nothing about this NICU, I thought it would be in my interest to establish some rapport with this nurse who was transporting me. With my "Moto Moto " voice (I had recently seen the Madagascar movie), calculated to unleash all my charm on this young nurse I said hello with a smile. That I needed to work on my charm was rudely emphasised by the speed with which she covered my face.  The hostile nature of the environment, which I was trying to tun a blind eye to, was gradually becoming palpably clear.

It was at NICU that I really understood the definition of nightmare!

Stay tuned.

astom2@yahoo.com

A member of Paediatric Society of Ghana

NB: Send your nagging  health questions to  the above address or  mirror@graphic.com.gh