When My Body Betrayed Me

THERE IS WAR IN MY BODY: Chapter 4 THE ROAD TO RECOVERY The night nurse sister budged in the ward at 4 am as usual and brought my warm bathing water as usual. It took me about 10 mins to finish bathing then I sat at the chair next to the bed whilst they were making my bed. This was a daily routine with these night nurses but they are very sweet though. I walked with my walking frame to the far end of the corridor where a gym bike was domiciled. It was around 4:45 am I spend about 20 mins there cycling, this was a daily improvement. The meter wasn't reading but I just cycled. I then left the bike then headed back to my Ward which was about 80 metres away. I returned to the bike at 11 am for my second gym session. This time I counted the cycles as I was cycling. In total, I managed to do 550 cycles. This was a great achievement for me. In other circles, they would have popped a bottle of champagne. Later in the evening after visiting hour had closed I went back to the bike aga...

THERE IS WAR IN MY BODY: Chapter 3 TESTS AND MORE TESTS After the ECG test the doctor told me that I had a BIG heart, and I said to her oh yes doctor I know, and that's true I have a very big heart and ladies always tell me that. She initially didn't pick the humour but after it sank in she laughed hysterically like a toddler. There were only two of us behind the curtains. I couldn't stop her hysteria and I didn't know either which button to press to stop her. I am sure people outside were wondering what was taking place behind closed curtains. I offered her my apologies for cracking her ribs and I blamed my big heart for that. She told me I was cute and that I was able to take away the job stresses and strains. She then told me that more tests needed to be done. After pulling the curtains off she instructed me to go back to my seat then she left. I mumbled the words thank you, but I doubt if she even heard me. I laid on the bed for less than a minute after she w...

When War Raged On: The Hospital Battle Begins On August 28, 2017, Dr. M’s surgery opened at 10 am, and though I slept fairly well despite my mobility struggles, I wasn’t in a hurry to get there. That day, I walked with the help of a stick. When I arrived, the doctor called me in as soon as he finished with his previous patient. As usual, he was upbeat and full of energy — a kind of motivation I wished many organizations could borrow. We chatted briefly about how I was feeling. He performed a physical examination and then took my blood pressure. I silently prayed as the numbers appeared. Then he sighed deeply, looked me in the eye, and said, “Perseverance, your blood pressure is 187/124. That’s dangerously high. It’s no longer your choice not to go to the hospital. I’ll have to admit you to Helen Joseph.” With the sternness of an upset headmaster, he wrote a referral letter, carefully folded it, and placed it in an envelope. Then he asked if he could call an ambulance. I hesitated but d...

When War Broke Out: The First Battle with GBS There is war in my body. Reading Sun Tzu’s   The Art of War   takes you to military strategy school. I’m no expert in warfare, but it’s common sense that war means fighting an opponent — whether it’s guerrilla tactics or any other form of combat. Wikipedia defines war as “a state of armed conflict between societies, generally marked by extreme aggression, destruction, and mortality, involving regular or irregular military forces.” Total war even extends beyond legitimate military targets, causing massive civilian suffering. For my story, I loosely define war as a battle between two opposing sides. I had never longed to simply walk until I woke up on August 27, 2017, with heavy legs and pins and needles under my feet. Suddenly, my legs refused to respond to basic functions — lifting, walking, bending — as if they had betrayed me. Moving became a mission; lifting my legs, walking around, doing basic chores felt like climbing a mount...