This too will Pass....

My first heartbreak was really painful. What made it more painful was the fact that we were in love and things were working out well. Our genotype was the stumbling block to the relationship.

We weren't compatible in that area and so there was no future to the relationship. We had a beautiful relationship while it lasted, we fought, argued, made up well. It lasted three years and we were never tired of each other.

I had to be the stronger one, he was not ready to let go neither was I but I had to pull out. It was painful, really painful... The days he would call and I won't pick because I knew I wouldn't be strong enough to say no to seeing him...the days he would call me at nite and rant.....the days he would call and say 'ur d first I'm telling!! I just got promoted...

We shared the good, bad and the ugly..I have always appreciated dating older guys. My friends know I don't speak like a 23yr old...I act older than my age and as such my boyfriend was about 30 then.. We broke up and it was painful.. He still calls to tell me the ups and downs and I appreciate that friendship with all my heart..

The second relationship was not a rebound! It took me seven months and I cautiously went into another with a church worker.. He was in delta state for a while so we conversed more on the phone but I knew something was missing...

There was no physical attraction... I thought this was good cos I was certain I wasn't going to commit fornication (crazy I know but that's how I felt) we couldn't even kiss, I guess we were both bad kissers lool

This continued till I changed jobs and met my colleague.. Do I bless d day I met him or curse it...  In two weeks I broke up with my boyfriend...that was a relief thou cos we were never on d same level spiritually: he felt I was loud and he wanted me to stop wearing jeans (dat was totally ridiculous and I gladly pointed that out to him)

With my new colleague, I did the unthinkable...go figure... Ever since then, things went on a downward spiral.. Its february and he's not picking my calls... I refuse to cry...this too will pass away

Dangerous issues: Fear and Confusion

So I got confused and totally afraid. there was nothing I could do to help situations, I was jittery.... I had sent the picture to my brother and he said the colour of my leg wound should be pink... (He is a doctor) I sent it to my sis in benin(final year med schl) she said I needed to do a debridement (minor surgery)  asap! And also I was supposed to clean the wound twice daily. 

She suggested I stopped going to the hospital on the island and instead clean the wound twice daily myself and with mum's help.  It was friday and I went about as usual. I give myself kudos, nobody suspected the trauma I was going through.... Nobody knew I was breaking, crying inside...everybody assumed I looked good and I was fine..

I was sick! Sick of the drugs, sick of the dressing, sick of their opinions, sick of everything sickle. What's worse, my best friend was not available.. She was too busy to pick my calls, I felt all alone... Called Mr Calmness again, already I sent him a text earlier in d day but as usual, he made it out into a joke and I was still bristling over that. 

Now, we talked at length and he already told me to continue with what I am doing and allow God do the healing. God must have been disappointed in me when I was running around like a chicken. A song popped in my head but I couldn't sing wholeheartedly; whose report shall u believe? We shall believe the report of the Lord. His report says I am healed (a Ron Kenoly's song) 

On my way home, I stopped at a hospital, got the nurses contact, chatted with my friend who is a nurse with some hospital on lagos island. I stopped at the pharmacy, collected another doctor's contact, bought the equipment for dressing which was expensive.

Unfortunately, the gauze I got was totally different frm the gauze I was given in the hospital. I went home and my mum opened the former dressing.. Turned out my leg was healing well. We changed it and put the gauze I just bought. Fast forward from friday to sunday morning; my cousin opened the wound and I had two widened hole... Did I lose it? It was horrible. 

Obviously the wound was worse now because of the gauze. I am in trouble.... I cried on my bed cleaned my face, prayed to God for healing.

Let's see what tomorrow holds..

Again I say: I know the thoughts, my God has towards me, thoughts of good nd not evil to bring me to an expected end..

I refuse to believe in any doctor's report, I refuse to discuss my leg ulcer with any doctor. I would continue with the hospital I have been registered with and I would allow God do the healing!!

So I broke down again

I have the sickle cell genes. It is engraved on my mind. I remember every second but sometimes, infact most of the time I see it as nothing. I hardly consider it a limitation,  I also cannot stand pity and so I never indulge in self pity. I am down only when the crises comes and I am in pains. I can't stand being helpless, I can't stand being in pain. I love being in control and so when things happen and I cant control it, I sometimes break down like I did tonight.

I travelled to the UK recently and spent quite some time walking. With each step, I felt pains in my leg. I have a high threshold and as such I endured the pain well. The day after I returned back home to Nigeria, my mum sent me to see the doctor which I did. I and the doctor spent more time gisting than taking about my leg. However, the doctor said I was fine, prescribed some strong antibiotics and off I went back home with more drugs to swallow. Ask any sickle cell patient, we are most times always high on drugs.

Two days later, my mum insists I apply a powder which I obediently applied and then split! the leg opens up showing white tissue.... I hate to look at it and its my leg (sobs again) She dressed it for me and we conclude that I would have to go to the hospital again on Friday evening or Saturday morning as I would be working during the week.

Its Wednesday evening and I come back tired and with a slight ache in the legs which i dismiss till I peel off the dressing and my ankle looks like a gaping hole. My mum in typical Yoruba fashion reties her wrapper and claps her hand together praying to God for healing for her daughter's leg and then runs off to call my father. He places a call to my brother a medical doctor and explains what the situation is. All I hear is Leg ulcer, general hospital, see a specialist and all this words begin to whirl around in my head and the tears come after as the floodgates open and I begin to whimper and cry.

I am tired! I am tired!! I am tired!!! I am now curled up in my younger sisters arm crying softly. Once I start, I find it hard to stop. I want to start asking questions... God for how long? why am I the one with sickle cell? Am I going to overcome this? Would my leg be amputated?  (God forbid) what would happen this time around?  In the midst of my sobbing and brooding, I hear my father's voice.

Why do you take things for granted? Why did you not complain in the UK about your leg? Why this and that? I stand up and race to my bedroom furious. Its his fault, he was educated, why on earth did he not find out his genotype before settling down with my mother. Why did he not put a stop to two kids? no he went ahead and now my younger sister and I are suffering the consequences while he lives a crises free life. We live with Paludrine and folic acid as our best friend not to talk of Tramadol, Diclofenac and a host of other drugs that are now part of everyday life... Yes that's what we endure.

My kid sister joins me in the room and I start the "Is it not their fault conversation" with her while I google leg ulcer on my laptop. A very current toaster who calls every night for about an hour from the UK  keeps calling but I cannot pick my call as my nose is running and I am not in the mood to talk. My sister answers the call and shortly after my current boyfriend calls. I think Boyfriend would be the word even though our relationship is complicated (story for another day) I pick the call this time around and already planned to say a brisk goodnight and get on with my leg ulcer research.

However, he senses I am crying and I start to whine. Why I whine when talking to him is beyond me. Maybe he just has this calm collected behaviour that compulsively brings out the drama queen in me. He refuses to agree with my conversation on whose fault it is that I have SCD. Instead, he calmly tells me to look at the solution and not point fingers when faced with a problem. I whine, he calms me down and then asks me to switch off my laptop. I don't know how it worked but yes I switched off my laptop and laid back down in bed. He said lots of things but I remember "did you create yourself? can you heal yourself, why not tell your maker, rest  your mind and see the doctor tomorrow. It wasn't just about what he said, it was the way he said it.

I obeyed him and soon drifted off to sleep. I wish parents could learn to be more tolerant and more understanding. Its bad enough you are the reason I have this disease so why cant you learn to handle the situation. My parents would never have handled it like he did.  I think there should be a school for learning how to be a parent! After all there is finishing school, where you can learn to be a lady, so yeah there should be a school for learning to be a parent!. Yes the both of them have been fantastic in their own ways but then again they are so flawed and it is so upsetting as well.

Its a brand new day. I would be going to the hospital first before venturing to my office. I am still nervous, still afraid of the unknown but I remember I did not create myself and my maker's thoughts towards me are good and not evil to bring me to an expected end. I hope the end would indeed be my expected end (instant cure to this problem) I will be fine.. Chin up I am a survivor and a great one at that!!

I am back totally New!

This is my first post and as I am a random writer. It would be as random as possible. I am happy I can blog again. I used to blog before but with my name and real life identity. It wasn't good as I could not totally express myself. I kept wondering if people read more meaning into what I posted and I always found myself editing everything over and over again.

What's more, everyone knew me and my ex and all and my life was invaded, nobody's fault but mine. That wont happen again!!

This is a blog on my random everyday life. Each day brings new blessings, and each day brings new challenges and I would be happy to share all the way... afterall I'm a talkaholic (wink)

I'm also always very busy, always forming activity lol....


Anyway welcome to my blog!!

Enjoy