The day came.
This time,I walked to d theatre.I wasn't scared anymore & I felt stronger.I was glad to be walking around alone after spending several months laying down,
sitting,
walking with help.
There were several doctors and nurses in the theatre,they were all nice.
I was lying on the surgical bed,naked (shame don comot my face since).
One of the older doctors joking said"Shey na big girl una strip like this"He asked a nurse to check my bp,after that I saw her injecting something(General Anastasia,I think)into the drip I was taking.
The older doctor(the consultant)asked me to sing for them.
I started singing.I woke up 5 hours later with that song on my lips(felt like it was immediately).
It took time for my eyes to clear but when they opened,I saw my family.They surrounded my bed.Then d pain came,not just the hand now but my thigh too.It was the donor site for the graft.
Meanwhile all the pain relief drug I had been taking didn't work on me.
From the first hospital to the third.
My sis got me morphine from London and sent them My hand was hung up.
Fast forward to 1week after the skin graft.Time to open it and see if it was successful.50% failed.
The chief said they might have to redo it.I said"no oo,beta anu beta Anu,o kwa na aru nama".
I'm tired.I no do again.He no even hear wetin I talk.My aunt was just laughing.He said the donor site(my thigh)would be opened the next week to see how far its own healing has gone.My hand was weak,feeble.I cudnt even raise it up or bend it at the elbow.It was just straight and weak.
No muscle.It was as if my brain had lost connection to the hand.I was already left handed.
He said I'll have to start physiotherapy when the wound heals.
Fastforward to 1week later,the donor site was opened.
The risk of infection still high,the wound was very fresh, But I knew I had already survived.
My period came that month(towards Easter)the day I was discharged,
I was happy to go home.I had phobia for cars,
travelling,
road but I was assured therapy wud fix all that.
All my old clothes were replaced wth new ones even my undies
I was too thin for them all.I was all bones but I was grateful to God to b alive.Some evenings,I'd want to walk down d street & I'd hear people talking.
I still had P.O.P on my hand.The scar on my cheek.I wasnt walking uptight.I was bent slightly like I had hunch back.
My hand still hurt and I was always trying to support it with the left hand.I was on low cut with my tiny frame.
I walked pass some school boys one afternoon & heard them discussing me."Heiya,see this small girl,she looks like she'd b in jss3.kai! Me jss2.I got home and cried.
Then d bandage came off, It was worse.
The scars were much.People would always stare like they ain't seen u before.
Hmmm,I practically stopped wearing short sleeves cos of the looks I got.
Physiotherapy days came, another bout of pain.
Trying to bend the hand.Things u see as normal became war for me.
Trying to pick objects,
grains,
gripping things.
I refused to go back to school. I fell in and out of depression constantly.
Being on my own became the best thing I did.
But God has been faithful.He saw us through,
financially & otherwise.
7 months in the hospital no b beans.
Surgery & all.I fought 2 live.I conquered.I wear short sleeves now.I wear shorts even with d scar on my thigh.
I travel now tho' not too often(still scares me a lil)I'm an undergraduate.I have a family I wudnt trade for anything.
Mum fought for me to live with 2 hands.My dad,my love.My sisters,d best.My brothers,awesome.I am comfortable in my own skin.That person who'd see my scars & screw up his/her nose doesn't know what I passed through.
The scars are my victory marks.My hand isn't fully functional but I'm happy seeing it.I want to complain sometimes (I'm human naa)but then I think"what if I had died in d accident or that day I was given the wrong blood transfusion,what if d nurse hadnt come fast enof.
What if it was amputated".Then I thank my creator.I write with it,I cook.I can carry my kids with it when the time comes(very important 2 me)Ist time I'm writing this story.I Am A SURVIVOR!God kept me!
Hi there, this is the story of a friend Uche now you have read it I hope you learnt a lot from it?
Share a story today obumlovely@gmail.com
Am am not afraid to share my story, my favourite body part my face.
Stay inspired❤
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