Ubium Medical Hospital, Uyo, 2022.
‘Ladies, the food lady is here!’ the hospital server announced, her food trolley screeching on the tiled floor.
‘Why would she disturb my sweet sleep?’ I gently shifted my bed to sit up and glared at her. The server rolled the food trolley to my bedside and dropped a tray on the over-bed table.
‘Bon appétit. Enjoy the sumptuous meal,’ she said with an animated voice and a wide grin.
I am not eating this bland food today. I curled my lips in disdain. ‘All I want is to be in my house, eating from the comfort of my bed.’
‘Don’t worry every bite of this deliciousness will make you feel at home.’
I bit my lower lip. Tasteless deliciousness! She walked away. I pushed the table aside and reclined in bed, watching as the server and a patient opposite me chatted cheerfully until a loud noise from the adjacent bed startled me. I turned to the woman in bed 3 – whom I nicknamed Madam Thunder – who slept with her mouth open. I shook my head. She’s shaking the foundations of this room again. Isn’t she the reason I’m awake every night? Oh, Lord! I grabbed my forehead, agitated. Please, free me from this confinement! It’s already been a week since my hip replacement surgery. No one is telling me when I’m going home. The doctors had assured me I’d leave this hospital two days after my surgery. But that cardiologist has kept me on this narrow bed.
I closed my eyes, and my thoughts drifted to the embarrassing session I had with the physiotherapist a couple of hours ago. I boasted about walking without any support – after all, I walked to the bathroom this morning without the nurse’s help. The physiotherapist encouraged me to try it. I handed her my cane, took four confident steps forward, only to stumble and nearly fall. But she caught hold of me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I cried.
She patted my shoulder. ‘It’s okay, Ma.’
I told her that my grandaunt had the same surgery and spent three days in the hospital. My oldest brother spent two days in the hospital.
‘So, why is mine different?’
‘Healing takes a process, Ma,’ she replied. ‘A major surgery such as the hip replacement takes time to heal. Please, be patient with your body.’
I nodded like a child. She shared stories about her practice, the various patients she has worked with in her thirty years as a therapist, and how each patient’s body and healing journey is unique.
A few minutes later…
A nurse came to take my vital signs and give me an injection and medicine.
‘Madam, how are you this evening? You’ve not eaten your food?’
‘I am not hungry. I need my cosy bed. Doctor Bassey assured me I’d be out of here two days after my surgery. Maybe his calendar is missing or he’s fallen asleep on duty.’
She smiled. ‘Madam, not to worry. We’ll discharge you once the cardiologist confirms your test results are okay.’
I hissed. ‘Ankak! I’m tired of the smell, people and everything in this place. If it’s not the food lady disrupting my sleep, it’s the thunderous noise from the next bed, giving me palpitations. Let me not talk about the blaring sirens, the noisy beeps from monitors and the noisy nurses.’
The nurse’s jaws tightened. She rolled her eyes, mumbling under her breath as she handed me a glass of water and medicine.
‘I’ve complained to the management about ill-mannered nurses like you.’ I rolled my eyes and clicked my tongue. ‘But excellent customer service isn’t a top priority here.’
She rolled her eyes again and left for Madam Thunder’s bed. Terrible, insolent nurse! I stared at the bulbs, still fuming. These white lights annoy me. I dug under my pillow for my eye mask and wore it.
Just then, my phone rang. I removed the mask, picked up the handset and stared at it. Husband-man, don’t disturb me o! It rang out just as my two sons called in succession. It was almost time for the evening visits.
‘Do you need anything? Food, snacks, drinks or toiletries?’ my husband wrote.
‘Thanks. I don’t need anything. You don’t need to visit this evening, please,’ I replied, switched off the phone and covered my eyes with the mask. Dear Lord, please help me keep all my visitors away this evening. I don’t want to see anyone, not even the doctors and their serpent-scope, sorry stethoscope. I chuckled at my silly joke until I choked and the catheter poked between my legs. I slipped my hand under my coat. So, this uncomfortable thing is still here even after Doctor Bassey instructed those insolent nurses to remove… I rang the call bell as a siren blared downstairs. I stuffed my fingers into my ears. Who’s coming in that noisy van again?
No nurse came, so I got off the bed, grabbed my cane and walked to the nurse’s station. Approaching the desk, I suddenly felt dizzy and lost my balance.
‘Madam, are you okay?’ The same nurse who had rolled her eyes at me held me in her arms.
‘Nurse, I don’t know what happened.’ I replied, my insides trembling.
‘I caught you just in time.’
I burst into tears. What if I fell and damaged my hip again? She wiped my face with a tissue and gave me a comforting hug. Embarrassed that I couldn’t complain about the catheter, I pleaded with her to go with me on a walk. She did. We had a cordial chat and apologised to each other for the misunderstanding we had when she came to my bed.
I later returned to my bed to overhear Madam Thunder whispering to her guest about the hospital.
‘If not for my husband and you, I wouldn’t have undergone this surgery here. You know how much I hate this hospital, mbok.’
‘And you would have lost a limb, forfeited your quality of life because you hate the hospital,’ the guest replied.
Madam Thunder grunted. ‘Tell the doctors to discharge me, I will manage myself at home o! Imagine staying here for another week with the unfriendly treatment from nurses, an ugly blue hospital gown, tasteless food and sleepless nights because of the loud snores from the woman in bed 4.’
She’s referring to me. I chuckled in my palms so they wouldn’t hear me.
‘I’ve requested the nurses give me another bed. But they claim there are no empty beds in the ward. Huh! I can’t… ‘
‘Grand matron of impatience! the guest interrupted. ‘You’re a bag full of complaints.’
Madam Thunder laughed. ‘I’m only trying to be honest, ufanima.’
‘Practise what you teach,’ the guest replied. ‘You’ve always prided yourself as the most patient woman ever born. You warn your family, friends and students against being impatient. Yet, you are in a position where you must walk the talk and you’re restless.’
‘Ufanima, I just needed to rant. I’m not impatient,’ Madam Thunder replied.
‘All you do is whine every time I’m here. You have shown no patience or gratitude for life. You survived anaemia, a heart attack, and blood clots in your lungs. Then, you’re recovering well from the surgery, ufanima.’
Madam Thunder let out a loud sigh. ‘You’re right,’ she said, soberly. ‘I’m sorry Lord, thank you for the successful outcome of my surgery.’
There went quiet for a few minutes when I heard Madam Thunder apologising to her friend. Then they moved on to another conversation.
I sighed. That guest nailed it. She just mirrored my life and situation. As a coach, I’ve taught courses on developing patience. I browbeat my family and everyone on Facebook and Twitter with my favourite hashtags:
#Apostle of patience says: #Endure hardship. #Be patient in crisis.
#Surrender the need to understand everything, especially during adversity.
#Gain strength through patience. #Patience is Confidence
I tapped my chest. Here lies the great-grandmatron of impatience. I wore the mask over my eyes, ashamed. Lord, I’m sorry, I’ve been as restless as the patient in bed 3, who thunders and shakes the foundations. I gave a mirthless laugh. Mbok, let me rest and snore all I want! After all, I have a competitor beside me. I covered the blanket. My eyes danced and crossed paths. I saw myself in the driver’s seat of a dirt truck driving downhill. I parked in a car park with “patience” written in bold white letters. Zzz!
Glossary:
Ankak – I’m tired
Mbok – Please
Sai – exclamation
Ufanima – my dear friend
