Diary Of a Human Nurse

I love my job. I hate my job. I am as normal as we come, and each day presents its own challenges, blessings, lessons, fate even. Some call me brave for stomaching the sight of blood and other grueling episodes. Some say I am tough because I have watched people breath their last, and held them in my arms, and not cried a tear. Some think I am all smiles and happiness because I deal with births and new innocent life. Well, all of them are right in their own measure. Let me share a little bit about myself.
I am a courageous and at the same time a coward. I struggle with my own insecurities, I struggle with Scientific realities. I love passionately and with even much more energy comes my hatred for situations, and perhaps beings. I am the best Nurse/Midwife I can be, working towards perfection. I may not be your best, but I am my own best. I am also a normal human as opposed to people's expectations of a nurse being an angel. I suffer with my clients, I laugh with my clients. I empathize with them, other time I sympathize.
If you meet me outside the hospital doors and shine your bright(or not so bright) smiles and I give you an unsure smile, I am not a snob. I simply cannot recall all people I have attended to. If I remember you, well and good. If I don't, do not take it personally. My memory is good, just not excellent.

I remember some years back, a patient the age of my father died in my arms. He was healthy one second, the next he was gone. Just like that. It was traumatizing. All I saw was my father lying there lifeless as resuscitation continued. I was a shell. I remember crying helplessly, I remember my seniors telling me to pull it together. Pull what together? All I wanted was my daddy back. I cried my eyes swollen shut. My colleagues had to do my work for me. It took me months to recover, something that has never happened to me. I even had counselling sessions in which I participated. Those who know me know that I barely talk about stressful issues, unless it is lightly with a touch of jokes. In high school, my mother once tried involving a counselor for some issues. It was a waste of time and money. I was simply mute. You see, the fact that I talk much leaves an impression that I'm an open book. Well, ask my family. I am indeed an introvert. So this man's death gnawed slowly at me. I blamed myself, yes I did. Almost every nurse, if not all, has blamed them-self for a death that wasn't their fault or doing. Your mind does that to you. Even if I did no harm, I did blame myself. I had let my father down. So I cried and had nightmares for days, until I came to terms with myself. I accepted I wasn't responsible, as in my brain finally comprehended that. Peace came again. I was no longer afraid of men dying in my arms.

In the Accident and Emergency department where I once worked, I had horrific experiences. Blood does not make me sick, neither does sputum, stool or other body fluids. I am hardcore like that :-D. But bring me a dismantled body and we got us a problem. One time the ER bell rang and as usual, with my tiny quick feet I followed my colleagues to the rescue. I was expecting a Cardiac Arrest or the likes. The paramedics were working on a guy, or what had been left of him. His head had been bashed in, oozing Cerebral Spinal Fluid.  A depressed skull fracture and the other part skull cut open exposing part of his brain. Eish, I froze. Gloves in hand, ready to work. I did do my part. I shuddered as I heard what thugs had done to him. He was practically halfway gone. Of course emergency things and stuff. For the first time in my Nursing life, I vomited. My stomach did flipflops, not the love ones. Any time I heard the ER door bell ring, I would just freeze. Thank God I was transferred. I was struggling to handle it. I do not understand how after a crash accident people take out their cell phones to record the poor fellas' brain, bone and skin. Eish, how hardcore can you get? I once looked out in an attempt to harden my spirit, I swear I did not eat for three days. I salute the A/E nurses.

Back to the ward, we once nursed a senior citizen for three good months. He drastically improved and then the eve of his discharge, he quietly went away. I was dismayed. All that work then this. I didn't cry though. I let him go. Another bed ridden senior citizen who barely spoke suddenly breaks into song and cheer in his room. On your way out of the room, he would give you the sweetest smile ever then continue clapping. I loved that old fella, he was amazing! He also went quietly, happily. These scenarios gave me a phobia of 'sudden recovery' of patients. I remembered watching Grey's Anatomy about 'Surge' (sp) where the character rose from his coma and was extremely cheerful and energetic in the unlikeliest of situations. He died later. So I really loved my very sick patients to recover, but I was afraid they were on their way elsewhere.

You see, I am a mixture of experiences. Some I would not want to re-experience, others I would love to. I am an introvert who talks too much but barely scratches a surface of her feelings. So the next time you're tempted to do unruly stuff or say piercing things, remember I was human before I became a nurse. And if you think nurses are some 'things' that should be disrespected simply because we empty your bed pan, well think again. Yes, I am a nurse. I deserve respect, just like any other human being.
Now where is that needle....

The Guide To A Safe Stay In Nairobi

Merry Christmas to all my fans! May the joy of the Lord be with you all and your loved ones. Be safe and remember it is Jesus' birthday, not yours. Take a chill pill and let 2016 meet the sane part of you. As many of you may know, Nairobi will still have the likes of us around to congest it. Those who can barely differentiate between holidays because it's all work and more work. Those whose pockets are dry hence cannot afford to travel(may God remember them). Those whose idea of Christmas is praying and preying on the fellow humans(God is seeing you).

Welcome to the city of Nairobi. It is both beautiful and ugly depending on which side you're looking from. It is both safe and unsafe, can give you a sense of belonging or bad memories. I would like to share about the con artists of this beautiful city(I am in the good part). Walking around this city, you need to be alert. Engage all your senses including the 6th one we all tend to ignore sometimes. Let paranoia be your perfume/cologne. Like a skunk gives off the nasty smell, give off that nasty look. Let your smile rest. Let your neighbor know that your mama on the other end of your phone is an omnipresent CID.
We have all heard of stories about how some person was conned , it probably has happened to some of you.

Meet that old woman almost your grandma's age whose back is so bent you feel sorry for her. She comes closer to you and picks a conversation. "Habari yako mtoto yangu" You can barely hear her. You are concerned. She asks for directions to a blue building(which according to her was destroyed years ago and cannot recall it's replacement). You recall your Bible teachings, respect for the elders. In the midst of trying to help her, your bag or whatever valuables you might be possessing vanish. The grandma's back is suddenly straightened by some magic, she runs faster than your grandmother. You got no clue what just went down. Your senses are somewhat asleep. By the time you come to, there is no one in sight.

There are those thugs that work with pure adrenaline. The fight/flight mode. These I find desperate and dangerous. They will grab your bag, or even calmly ask you to hand it over at gun/knife point. Never argue with such. Give them what they want and avoid eye contact.
You are in a mobile vehicle near a window and you're busy reading my blog. I don't blame you, it's engaging. Or you're buried in Facebook posting how ugly your neighbor looks. In a nick's time, your phone is missing. The shock on your face will amuse the conductor who will mutter some rude obscenity at your 'lack of brains'. Forgive him, he is tired of such scenes and does not understand how we humans 'never learn'.

Meet that young lady talking on the phone about innocent issues. As she massages her breasts to indicate she is a breastfeeding mum, she says,"mama mwambie aache kulia nakuja sasa hivi." and so on. You're so engrossed in her story, that eavesdropping mode we switch to might be the end of us. You don't realise she's edging closer to you. The next thing you are in an unfamiliar territory, with nothing on you. You're covered in dust and don't remember how you got there. To say the least, you look like a drunkard. My friend, you have been drugged. Welcome to Nairobi mbaya.

There are so many ways these cons have invented to get their daily bread. They are always one step ahead of us. The best you can do is pray for your safety, walk like you got a purpose, avoid the notoriously dangerous parts of Nairobi. If someone needs directions, stay as far as possible and point them towards the nearest security personnel. If someone abruptly asks to shake your hand, run like never before. Call me mad but if I do not know you, please don't come too close. It's not you it's the Nairobi fever.

Merry Chistmas!

Ladies, Let Him Truly Love You!

Love is patient,love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres (1st Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV).

I know most of you ladies have a man in your life. It could be a father, a brother, a male relative or that friend neatly tacked away in the friend zone corner. Most likely, they love you, they are your blood and true friend. Then comes the other man. That man that is not your blood yet your blood runs at his sight. That magnificent adrenaline that makes you have butterflies upon thinking of him. He brings out that silly streak we all manage to tack away in the name of maturity. He makes you laugh, he makes you cry because of silly things. Such is love. Such is a man we ladies, crave for. But have you ever sat and thought if he is the one for you?

Now, we all love to call each other the sweet little names that make us grin like fools. "Hello love!" Such are our conversations from time to time. Now replace the word love in the first paragraph with his name; e.g "Luca is patient.....Luca always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." Well, dear ladies, is Luca all that? No is perfect, but is your Luca what he says he is? Does your Luca treat you with the patience only acquired of God? Does your Luca encourage you to be truthful?

If I may, I would like to express my love and admiration for this particular man who set such a high standard on love for men to emulate. His love for me proved unmatched, unbeaten, trustworthy and perfect.
Any woman wants a man who proclaims his love for them, to fight to earn it. I mean fight to the last ounce of strength for you. You do not wake up one day and get a good job, you must have worked for it, sweat for it and earned it. The end result is sweet, you are careful not to loose your hard earned results, you behave. Jesus fought for you to death. So ladies, is Luca behaving as though you are priceless? Did he work to get you, or did you hand him you on a pretty ribboned silver platter? Is Luca making you feel special?

A man, in the Biblical and traditional aspect should be a leader. Great leadership skills are not easy to acquire. Such come with wisdom, a lot of learning and support from significant parties. Lady, is Luca leading you down the drain of destructive measures? Are your biceps cramping from supporting the wrong leadership afraid of loosing him? Are you sweating to stay in the relationship? If  you loose him, your muscles will get a break. Your body will thank you. Let go of something that does not sit well with you, it is physically and emotionally draining. Unfortunately, if you as a lady have no sense of what is right, you will be led darling, oh you will be led to that slaughterhouse. See, you did not even realize you are in a sheepskin.

Is he demeaning your worth to 'raise' his? Is he physically, emotionally and verbally demeaning you? Remember Jesus defending the woman who was to be stoned because of infidelity? Even at her worst in the human eye, He defended her. Don't cheat on him though, haha. Is your man protecting/ defending you? Is Luca the onion you never thought you'd meet? Is he your wardrobe manager now that you're wearing humongous glasses to cover your teary bruised face? You cannot expose your arms because of the bruises. Years of tears will dehydrate you, toxins will pile up, dehydration is an actual cause of acute kidney failure. Honey, take care of your make up, immune system, your kidneys and you mental health too. You need them to survive, literally. You can survive though without a bad Luca.

Strive to know your man's people. Know his friends, study them, interact with them. Do not be misled: Bad company corrupts good character (1st Corinthians 15:33-NIV). There's is a 99% chance that they are his mirror.
Know his background. His upbringing plays a role too. If he is not comfortable with you meeting his family, he could be hiding you from the world or his family from you.You my friend are his dirty little secret. Forget the hope of ever settling with such unless you will be the vicar in your own very private wedding.

Let a man know your worth, you are a jewel. Stop settling for less than you deserve. If he cannot respect you enough to realize this, please move on. If he is not after God's heart like David of the Bible, the today's 'philistines' will devour you. Practice patience. Let God bring the one to you. Above all, be a lady worth a good God-given man.

THE ILLUSION, MY NIGHTMARE

He said he loved me, he told me so
I guess he forgot to show me how much
He said he wanted a future with me, he told me so
I guess he forgot to get me a ring

He said he wanted to feel my heartbeat, he told me so
I guess he forgot bleeding hearts fail
My heart is in your hands, he told me so
I guess he forgot bruised hands hurt

He said he wanted my soul, he told me so
I promised to not sell my soul to the devil
I guess he was not the devil
I guess he was just him

He promised me till death does us part, he told me so
I guess he forgot my grave is not dug
Through thick and thin,he told me so
I guess he was looking for a medium me

He said he was sorry, he told me so
I guess dreams are meant to be just that
I woke up and realized that was a wishful dream
Then reality hit me, he was my nightmare
I guess he forgot to tell me so 

DEATH

I simply address you that way because you don't trigger any dearness in my mind. That is just what you are, death. I can only imagine what is going on in your mind, if you have any, which I doubt you do anyway. I can almost see you hiding somewhere, in a closet maybe, trying not to burst into laughter. I can see you do your premature victory dance all over the place. You think you have won, you think you have won. You almost fool everyone.

You see, you dressed down as a human. A male being to be specific. You subdivided your sorry self into three men, and had them do your dirty deed. Yes you enjoyed taking a life. Yes, you enjoyed pulling the trigger and watching his life fade out of him. I am sure you were thrilled with yourself. I am sure you almost wet your pants out of laughing yourself stupid. I am sure you are still savoring your victory.

You see, I look at the many hearts that have bled because of your name. The hearts that are still bleeding, mine included. Yes, that woman who still loves him even though gone. That woman who had to witness the whole incident. That child who does not understand why daddy is no longer calling to talk to him on the phone. Why daddy has not come home for two days in a row. That mother wondering why you had to visit her son in a manner so cruel. That sister, those nephews, those cousins, those aunties, those friends, those relatives.....and that granny who loved him with her life. The list of those hurting is endless. I personally do not know if I will heal, and if I do, that scar is already too deep.

If I were of this world, I would wish the worst over their lives. I will not however. I will pray for peace, I will pray for wisdom, I will pray that God comes down and comfort us all. I will pray that his lovely wife will find comfort in God, family and friends. I will pray his son will never lack joy and love and when he finally understands that daddy is in heaven, he will smile and know the angels are with him. I will pray that those you used to take a life so precious will know no peace until they confess. Yes, may they itch as though they have a skin condition, may their ice-cold hearts melt under the wrath of God. If you, death, think you have won, I bear news for you, you were defeated centuries ago. Your time is almost up. Vengeance is never ours, it's the Lord's. That is what the Bible teaches me.

I am still shocked and in denial. I am sailing in the same boat as my family and friends. One minute am happy and forgetful, the next am nostalgic and tearful. I am confused and sane at the same time.
We have lost a great son, a loving husband, a wonderful father, an awesome brother and cousin, an honorable nephew, a wise grandson and a great citizen. He never passed any opportunity to help anyone in need. He was a truly wonderful human being. Chelsea has lost a great fan. Roy Kenneth Muigai, you will forever remain in our hearts and minds. Till we meet again, rest in peace. Rest in peace dearest cousin.

FOR THE LOVE OF CHELSEA

You've probably heard me talk about them on social media. you've probably felt like blocking me from your friends list. Hell, you've probably felt I fancied them too much in a not so nice way. Well,congratulations! You're probably right. No, you're right, actually. 

My name is Margaret Wambui Kamau. I am a self proclaimed Chelsea fan. None of those fancy blue boys know my name, but hell! I know them all, or so I think. I have been a Chelsea fanatic since I can remember, I have shared in their pains, their joys and attended their pity parties. I have practically shed my tears, yes those ever flowing tears, on their account. I love the team, its arrogant coach and those behind the scenes to make the team what it is. If it were possible, I would marry Chelsea. If Chelsea was a man, I would want him in my life. He would be worth the pain. He's proven that already. 

I am not here to prove how much I know about them, I am here to proclaim my undying love for this lovely team. From our goalkeeper to our defenders. You've probably heard me blow the whole football concept out of proportion when I let my feminine side work on the pitch. I know Eden Hazard has lips that are outrageously good for a man, a body that is yummy and that look he gives an opponent who has fouled him!! I loove that look. And the way he handles the ball! I call him Eden sweet lips Hazard. 

Petr Cech, the first goalkeeper I ever knew. He has always been my favorite because he is quite a great keeper. I also love Oscar because he has a baby face, he's cute and at 23 he is married! He has skills on that pitch that are exciting and awing. I love him, the agape kind of love. :-) Don't ask about the Belgian player, my love for him is different.

Didier Drogba. My old time favorite. He is a legend this guy; his goal in the 2011-2012 UEFA finals against  Bayern Munich was an important come back for Chelsea who proceeded for the penalty shootout with the opposing team. I will always remember that one as Chelsea clinched the cup, it was one of the sweetest moment for me and them am sure. Didier is built and manages to keep opponents at bay. You can say that with him, Chelsea will always be his home. He has even gone to the Chinese, but he came back home. Welcome back Drogba, I did say it last year, but it does no harm to repeat.

Our golden goose is Diego da silva Costa. He is a goal scoring machine this one. He is worth those 32 million euros this guy. He is also my age mate... LOL. I see him, with all his millions. Enyewe tulianza pamoja lakini sielewi niliachwa wapi... He earns 150000 euros a week! Ala. It does break my heart that am nowhere near that figure, but am happy for him. Swallowing hard. Go Costa! I hope you do not leave Chelsea ever/ any time soon.

Zouma and Cuardrado, the new kids on the block. What a job they are doing these boys. Keep up. As for the rest akina John Terry, Ivanovic, Azpilicueta, Cesc Fabregas, Filipe Luis, Ramires, Courtois, Remy, Matic, Willian, Garry Cahill and the others I do not know yet, I love you all. I also miss the ex Chelsea players especially Frank Lampard, David Luiz, Demba Ba, Daniel Sturridge and others. I still remember the good old days when you still wore the Chelsea jerseys. Sigh, the good ones leaving is something I never understand. But that's okay, I am no Mourihno/Abramovich. I am Margaret Wambui Kamau, just another Chelsea fan. These boys drive me nuts, bonkers and bananas. But it is their skills that top it up. I love Chelsea, I hope they win the EPL cup just as they won the Capital One cup. I believe they will, I believe we will. GO CHELSEA!!!!

LOVE, DEAR BITTERSWEET FRIEND

I have participated in this game of love many times in my young life. I have lived to tell my friends about it, laughed about it and thought about its unending joys. Oh! Love is the sweetest thing one can experience. It can also be the most bitter pill anyone can take. You see, it starts well with the usual smiling phase. You think and think of that new person in your life, you smile and smile at the thought of that person. You swear to the world that s/he is the one. No one can stop you. Your heart does beautiful beats to the tune of love, your tummy suddenly harbors butterflies at the site of the source. It is a beautiful beginning. Its the first taste of Baileys....sweet and subtle. You are yet to swallow.

 Like most people, I have won in that game. It may be a short term celebration but a win nonetheless. If you have never felt what it feels like to be loved back, you should pray you experience it before you expire. It sends you to the mountain top and back, takes you to the ocean and gives you a smooth sail back to shore, all these things happen at once. You are unstoppable, people have to give way lest you flatten them with your cart overfilled with love. You want to give your all, you actually give your all. Even your body glows with this emotion. This feeling, is one of the best in the world. It even makes one do crazy things, it is so bright a light that it renders you blind, even if for a short while. Once love comes your way, most things might fade away.

On the other hand, I have often terribly failed in that game. The face down crowd thirsting after your blood kind of loss. I have had thorns left in places of roses, I have had to swallow my Baileys faster than ever imagined. The aftertaste kills my tongue. Many at times it's nature taking course, other times my very own doing or the aspect of being broken by the one you loved, literally. You almost feel your left atrium separating from your right atrium....you surely feel the bleeding into your chest cavity and you literally cannot breathe. You are suffocating in pain, and you just want it to end. I think how someone survives such damage is still questionable but thank God its proven not to kill, at least not directly.

Then comes this phase called moving on. It is the longest phase on earth. You are stuck between anger and sadness. A simple thing as watching a couple hold hands will send you into tears or rage. You are often told, ''the only way to get over someone is get under someone''.....Well I don't know whether that literally works but my version of it is spending time in company of other cheerful people. You will need friends like never before and a break from those places familiar to your memories.You may come out fine on the other end, the thorns will still be insitu, but the scars will eventually heal and thus have no 'feeling' power. Thorns will prick as you walk, talk or slip into memories session, but it will not hurt, not like before anyway.

If you are not lucky, you might walk around with a broken heart, never completely healed. You, my dear friend, need God to intervene. You need to decide if you are moving on completely, going to join a support group or relapse and start all over again. My bet is if you actually work on it, you can eventually look at nature differently and start the whole love thing again. No matter how many times I have hurt over love, I will not love with fear. I will love foolishly, with all my heart and strength. I just don't know if this time it will be the real one,but I will keep trying with my all. Well, I hope I don't drop of exhaustion one day.