I am way too VIP to be RIP!

Maybe I could have been in the emergency room crying (that's if I had the strength to or if I would be even conscious) asking God why He let it happen; or maybe I would have been talking to Him face to face explaining to Him how I made the most of the life He gave to me. Maybe you guys would have been cursing and swearing for my sake, and tweeting RIP tweets @frediliamomodu. Well, Glory be to our forever awesome God, the story is the opposite. 

 On Monday morning, I felt weak and drowsy. It was like the weight of the whole world was placed on my shoulders; I wanted to collapse. I managed to attend to an elderly man who had issues with the ATM. After attending to him as best as I could, he showered me with prayers and he said and I quote, "this week is your week of favours. God will shower you with favours". I said Amen in a low voice and smiled at him as he made his way out of the bank. As myopic and selfish as my mind was, I thought of another job with a mouth watery salary and loads of time for me to do the things I love.

A few minutes later, my stomach started hurting real bad and all the strength in me vanished into space. I went into the store and cried like a child. With the help of my colleagues, the secretary wrote me a letter to go a particular private hospital. I couldn't go by myself so a driver took me there. By then, I was groaning in pains, my temperature began to rise and I began to shiver. Different tests were carried out on me and I was found to be positive for malaria. As an AA and O+ person, I hardly have malaria, but when I do, it's dead serious. I was to prepare for a scan too by drinking lots of water till I felt pressed to use the rest room. 

It was more or less a torment because I was still hurting in my stomach, I was very weak and drinking water just made me feel nauseated. The nurses kept asking me if I wanted to urinate and I kept telling them I didn't know. I had lost total control of my entire body; I didn't know what I felt anymore. I just wanted to do scan and get it over with. In a mixture of pain and frustration, I continued to drink warm water from the dispenser. The nurses and other patients stared at me waiting for me to say I was ready for the scan. I bowed down to the pressure from their piercing eyes and announced that I was ready for the scan. Just for the record, the lady who went in for her scan before I did mine congratulated me thinking I was pregnant. 

When the doctor started the scan, the first thing she said was, "your bladder is too full! I can't see anything, please go and urinate a little!" I obeyed like a timid kitten and wondered why I did not feel pressed. The only thing I could feel was the  pain I was going through. After I eased myself a bit, she did a successful scan, and from the scan, I was perfect. She told me to completely empty my bladder and did some physical examinations on me. After everything, I was diagnosed of appendicitis and an operation was recommended. After a brief talk and phone calls to the surgeon, the time for operation was scheduled because she claimed it was urgent. I was just staring at the two doctors telling me that I needed to do an operation. 

After the consultation, I called the driver to pick me up. I was given just paracetamol to ease the pains. I had taken only oats without milk and sugar the whole day. I was famished and fatigued. This was about 5hours after I got to the hospital. When I got to the office, I told my colleagues and my boss about my encounter and they advised me to get a second opinion from another doctor.

I did that and glory to God, ain't no knife passing through this lovely tummy of mine. Met with my family doctor, an experienced doctor at that. He did a thorough check up on me. Any operation whatsoever could have killed me, because I had acute malaria and my PCV was low. (God will let none of us die before our time...)
Come to think of it...didn't the hospital didn't think it fit to treat me first so I would be in a better shape for the operation? They were just interested in cutting me open and getting my money from the fat bill they would write. How can you operate someone who has acute malaria and is short of blood? What the fuck and hell were they thinking?  I don't even have enough strength to waste on being angry.

Even though I spent the last week shuttling between the hospital and my home, I just thank God for everything. I was given proper treatment in forms of drips, injections, drugs and a proper diet. I can now sing, tweet, blog, smile, talk, run a little and do the things I could not do few days back. 

I now remember that elderly man's prayers and smile. God is forever good.





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