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.
Monday, 10 November 2014
Thursday, 12 June 2014
SO HELP ME GOD
I am a weak person, even in my strength, I still am weak.
Even in my thoughts, when I think I have it all figured out, I still am weak.
In my acts, for or against a trigger, I am weak. Weak to the decisions that run my mind, weak to the vengeance that threatens to destroy me.
Weak towards things I have given strength over my decisions.
Weak towards factors that encourage me to look down on my beliefs... ooh! It's just hard to stay on the right track, when my legs are too weak to follow.
I am weak to the core, I am weak to believe I am strong, for in over-confidence lies a trap. A trap many a times I have walked into, with eyes wide open, ears attentive and brain well oxygenated.
I am weak for confiding in this world, I am weak for trusting in the many comforts it has to offer.
I am weak for thinking it will last forever. Surprise! surprise! Weakness mocks me.
I am weak, indeed I am weak. Towards the people that should not matter, towards those out to make sure my weakness surpasses my strength; those who rejoice in my weakness. I am weak in failing to see the obvious, those that love me with all my weaknesses. Those that really matter the most. My family, blood or not.
I have just but one prayer, to God. To help me turn my weaknesses back to strengths once again. Like Samson in the Bible, to have what was once mine. So help me God.
Even in my thoughts, when I think I have it all figured out, I still am weak.
In my acts, for or against a trigger, I am weak. Weak to the decisions that run my mind, weak to the vengeance that threatens to destroy me.
Weak towards things I have given strength over my decisions.
Weak towards factors that encourage me to look down on my beliefs... ooh! It's just hard to stay on the right track, when my legs are too weak to follow.
I am weak to the core, I am weak to believe I am strong, for in over-confidence lies a trap. A trap many a times I have walked into, with eyes wide open, ears attentive and brain well oxygenated.
I am weak for confiding in this world, I am weak for trusting in the many comforts it has to offer.
I am weak for thinking it will last forever. Surprise! surprise! Weakness mocks me.
I am weak, indeed I am weak. Towards the people that should not matter, towards those out to make sure my weakness surpasses my strength; those who rejoice in my weakness. I am weak in failing to see the obvious, those that love me with all my weaknesses. Those that really matter the most. My family, blood or not.
I have just but one prayer, to God. To help me turn my weaknesses back to strengths once again. Like Samson in the Bible, to have what was once mine. So help me God.
Wednesday, 26 March 2014
HUMAN, TESTED AND PROVEN
For the first time in ages, my guard fell. I did not let down my guard, it just fell, just like that. It fell off at the wrong time and that left me vulnerable. I was not amused because I had to start all over again by picking sharp piercing minute pieces of myself. Up to now, I have not managed to piece me back together. I am broken as can be, I am sure a piece is missing somewhere along the corridors of the hospital, another is with my patient. I will simply have to work hard to grow another piece.
Let me tell you about my day, it started out well. Normal as can be, with this and that to do. Today I had the honor of taking care of a patient with metastasized Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, don't worry about its origin. Honor because I re-learnt things I always assumed I knew. He is a young man with a young family. Young as in below 60 years of age, above 50 years. That is extremely young if you ask me. I saw him for the first time today morning as I received my report. The first picture that was painted is still imprinted in my memory corner. Weak, in pain despite analgesics, holding on to a thread and yet grateful for little things like me putting up fluids.
Nursed propped up, he has a hard time being comfortable despite attempting many positions. His abdomen is swollen, pressing upwards to his diaphragm, making his breathing not so nice and hiccuping every second he spares to breath out. His prognosis is not good, but he was not displacing( he damn well has a right to) His wife, was a mess. Her eyes red as evidence of crying, their daughter lost on who to comfort, relatives in defeated silence. All eyes on any doctor/nurse who makes their way there, as though they carry with them a miracle/a sign that all will be well.
Any who, I looked at his suffering, his gentle nature and I did not know it till I touched my face. It was wet. I quickly brushed the tear aside lest the relatives, especially the wife, see the hopelessness written in my eyes and on my face. I pretended to adjust the rate of TPNs, to check if this or that was okay. Finally, I took a walk. I do not know what it was with this particular patient, I have seen enough suffering to last a lifetime but always managed to stay away from the sympathy shoe. Empathy is what they advise if not teach, because you have to protect yourself. Each time a patient dies and you let it get to you, you loose a piece of you. Eventually, you get to give away pieces of you that eventually you might be an empty shell.
Bottom line is, I felt such pain for this man, helpless, his family watching him waste away. His wife, trying to be strong but failing miserably, his family scared to death. That deathly silence they had around him was heartbreaking. It was as though they were afraid of talking. Up to now, I cannot tell why or what triggered my emotions, all I know is that I was caught off guard and stripped off my protective armor. I know for sure that a piece of me has gone away, it is gone with my patient. My heart is broken, my spirit defeated and I have questioned the Almighty. "If there was ever a miracle, God now is the time." In my mind, I did say a prayer. Hope, faith and miracles were on my mind too.
The purpose for our life is clear, the reason for our living manifested each day with our achievements and good deeds. This man re-taught me to take not take my health for granted, to appreciate family and to always be grateful to God no matter what the circumstances. I had already 'forgotten' these things. And the price someone else is paying for people like me to remember....Oh how sad.
Let me tell you about my day, it started out well. Normal as can be, with this and that to do. Today I had the honor of taking care of a patient with metastasized Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, don't worry about its origin. Honor because I re-learnt things I always assumed I knew. He is a young man with a young family. Young as in below 60 years of age, above 50 years. That is extremely young if you ask me. I saw him for the first time today morning as I received my report. The first picture that was painted is still imprinted in my memory corner. Weak, in pain despite analgesics, holding on to a thread and yet grateful for little things like me putting up fluids.
Nursed propped up, he has a hard time being comfortable despite attempting many positions. His abdomen is swollen, pressing upwards to his diaphragm, making his breathing not so nice and hiccuping every second he spares to breath out. His prognosis is not good, but he was not displacing( he damn well has a right to) His wife, was a mess. Her eyes red as evidence of crying, their daughter lost on who to comfort, relatives in defeated silence. All eyes on any doctor/nurse who makes their way there, as though they carry with them a miracle/a sign that all will be well.
Any who, I looked at his suffering, his gentle nature and I did not know it till I touched my face. It was wet. I quickly brushed the tear aside lest the relatives, especially the wife, see the hopelessness written in my eyes and on my face. I pretended to adjust the rate of TPNs, to check if this or that was okay. Finally, I took a walk. I do not know what it was with this particular patient, I have seen enough suffering to last a lifetime but always managed to stay away from the sympathy shoe. Empathy is what they advise if not teach, because you have to protect yourself. Each time a patient dies and you let it get to you, you loose a piece of you. Eventually, you get to give away pieces of you that eventually you might be an empty shell.
Bottom line is, I felt such pain for this man, helpless, his family watching him waste away. His wife, trying to be strong but failing miserably, his family scared to death. That deathly silence they had around him was heartbreaking. It was as though they were afraid of talking. Up to now, I cannot tell why or what triggered my emotions, all I know is that I was caught off guard and stripped off my protective armor. I know for sure that a piece of me has gone away, it is gone with my patient. My heart is broken, my spirit defeated and I have questioned the Almighty. "If there was ever a miracle, God now is the time." In my mind, I did say a prayer. Hope, faith and miracles were on my mind too.
The purpose for our life is clear, the reason for our living manifested each day with our achievements and good deeds. This man re-taught me to take not take my health for granted, to appreciate family and to always be grateful to God no matter what the circumstances. I had already 'forgotten' these things. And the price someone else is paying for people like me to remember....Oh how sad.
Monday, 3 March 2014
CALL ME LAZY, BUT I LOVE MY SLEEP
I am wide awake early in the morning on my day off. My sleep pattern has greatly improved, I can now sleep through noise and all. I am awake this early because my system ran out of sleep. I have not overslept, no, in fact I have barely had 6hours of sleep. I am as fresh as can be. My afternoon is yet to prove me wrong.
I have a friend who sleeps for 4 hours (he proudly tells me that) out of a 24hour cycle. 20hours are reserved for work, and work does he. And he has achieved almost all he may want. "You might break down one day" I often tell him. "Nah, your body get used to it" I believe him, but I also believe he will break down one day. He is as healthy as can appear, but looks are deceiving. He reminds me of a young man I had the pleasure of meeting.
Young at 42years, he works like a donkey. Only that it is not forced labor, he is a willing laborer. He goes to bed at 12midnight, out of the house by 4am. "When do you see your kids?" I once asked him.
"On Sundays" He comfortably told me.
"Wow, your job must be important."
He smiles at me, its a top secret government job. I understand, and move away from the subject.
His blood pressure, lets just say the last time it was checked was rocket high. I wouldn't be surprised if he collapsed from a 'heart attack' or if he had an 'Aneurysm burst' somewhere in his blood vessels. I ask him what he does on Sundays.
"Church for the better of my day, then out with my family"
"What time do you go to bed?"
"9pm the earliest"
He can tell I am surprised by the look on my face. I am surprised, I mean, 9pm the earliest? On his only sane day? Okay.
"So what did the doctor say?" I asked curiosity getting the better of me.
"I needed to be admitted because my BPs are uncontrollable. Told him I can't afford to take a break at this moment, later perhaps."
I smile, I'm amused not because its funny.
" Do you go on leave?" Of course he does.
"Who takes your place when you're gone?"
"My boss"
"So can't he do that for a few days or weeks?"
"No." As simple as no. Ha!
"So what happens when you're away and your boss needs to leave the office?"
"I am recalled to work"
"How are you compensated?"
"Money comes in if I come in during my leave."
I hoped he was serious because I had a hard time believing a word he said. It sounded far fetched, I was tempted to snort.
Both parties are extremely well to do. They have this lifestyle only few can afford,and I mean FEW. I like their determination, I like their beliefs.
It got me thinking, I value my life, I value my health even though only my maker can guarantee I got good health. I even value the quality of my sleep!
Perhaps I should look more into less sleep and obsess about work, But hey! while at it, I might take time to draft a will because like a walking fuse,I might blow out. Its your life, live it as you please. Just be wise about it, and certainly consider your loved ones while at it....Call me lazy but I love my sleep.
I have a friend who sleeps for 4 hours (he proudly tells me that) out of a 24hour cycle. 20hours are reserved for work, and work does he. And he has achieved almost all he may want. "You might break down one day" I often tell him. "Nah, your body get used to it" I believe him, but I also believe he will break down one day. He is as healthy as can appear, but looks are deceiving. He reminds me of a young man I had the pleasure of meeting.
Young at 42years, he works like a donkey. Only that it is not forced labor, he is a willing laborer. He goes to bed at 12midnight, out of the house by 4am. "When do you see your kids?" I once asked him.
"On Sundays" He comfortably told me.
"Wow, your job must be important."
He smiles at me, its a top secret government job. I understand, and move away from the subject.
His blood pressure, lets just say the last time it was checked was rocket high. I wouldn't be surprised if he collapsed from a 'heart attack' or if he had an 'Aneurysm burst' somewhere in his blood vessels. I ask him what he does on Sundays.
"Church for the better of my day, then out with my family"
"What time do you go to bed?"
"9pm the earliest"
He can tell I am surprised by the look on my face. I am surprised, I mean, 9pm the earliest? On his only sane day? Okay.
"So what did the doctor say?" I asked curiosity getting the better of me.
"I needed to be admitted because my BPs are uncontrollable. Told him I can't afford to take a break at this moment, later perhaps."
I smile, I'm amused not because its funny.
" Do you go on leave?" Of course he does.
"Who takes your place when you're gone?"
"My boss"
"So can't he do that for a few days or weeks?"
"No." As simple as no. Ha!
"So what happens when you're away and your boss needs to leave the office?"
"I am recalled to work"
"How are you compensated?"
"Money comes in if I come in during my leave."
I hoped he was serious because I had a hard time believing a word he said. It sounded far fetched, I was tempted to snort.
Both parties are extremely well to do. They have this lifestyle only few can afford,and I mean FEW. I like their determination, I like their beliefs.
It got me thinking, I value my life, I value my health even though only my maker can guarantee I got good health. I even value the quality of my sleep!
Perhaps I should look more into less sleep and obsess about work, But hey! while at it, I might take time to draft a will because like a walking fuse,I might blow out. Its your life, live it as you please. Just be wise about it, and certainly consider your loved ones while at it....Call me lazy but I love my sleep.
THE LION, THE CHEETAH AND THE HYENA.
The Lion
The second largest living cat after the tiger. A walk in the jungle, no fear no hurry. It does own the kingdom. It roars at will, scaring the faint hearted, having them look for hiding spots. It is courageous, it is brave. In a way, it is proud, arrogant even. It does not eat leftovers, it gets the fresh kills. It does not settle for less, even when there is drought, it will not settle for grass. It will get that fresh kill, even if it uses its last ounce of strength.It is very fast, but not the fastest though.It will rarely share its catch wit others, unless they are a significant group.
The Cheetah
It is a beautiful big cat. Do not let it fool you though, it is a killer. It is very swift, can outrun most of its prey. As swift as it is in chasing, it equally is swift at giving up. It may be courageous but is easily discouraged when its prey seems to outrun it. It does need a surge of energy to support its animal record speed.
The Hyena
An animal that is not attractive, very lazy, cowardly and loves left overs. It will have whatever the lion and cheaters did not want/ finish. It is at times follows the big cats for long distances to have a meal. It does have that laugh and it is cunning at times.
In life, we have at some point been either of the three animals. We have characteristics almost similar to the animals stated. When we walk around fearing no evil, believing in ourselves and not settling for less than we deserve, we walk with purpose. When we carry ourselves otherwise, we will feed on 'dead' things life as to offer.
We should be quick to grasp an opportunity that might not come our way again, we should never give up without one huge of a fight, and we definitely should never wait to have leftovers. Go out there for your kill, it is possible. No one likes the Hyena anyway, don't be one.
The second largest living cat after the tiger. A walk in the jungle, no fear no hurry. It does own the kingdom. It roars at will, scaring the faint hearted, having them look for hiding spots. It is courageous, it is brave. In a way, it is proud, arrogant even. It does not eat leftovers, it gets the fresh kills. It does not settle for less, even when there is drought, it will not settle for grass. It will get that fresh kill, even if it uses its last ounce of strength.It is very fast, but not the fastest though.It will rarely share its catch wit others, unless they are a significant group.
The Cheetah
It is a beautiful big cat. Do not let it fool you though, it is a killer. It is very swift, can outrun most of its prey. As swift as it is in chasing, it equally is swift at giving up. It may be courageous but is easily discouraged when its prey seems to outrun it. It does need a surge of energy to support its animal record speed.
The Hyena
An animal that is not attractive, very lazy, cowardly and loves left overs. It will have whatever the lion and cheaters did not want/ finish. It is at times follows the big cats for long distances to have a meal. It does have that laugh and it is cunning at times.
In life, we have at some point been either of the three animals. We have characteristics almost similar to the animals stated. When we walk around fearing no evil, believing in ourselves and not settling for less than we deserve, we walk with purpose. When we carry ourselves otherwise, we will feed on 'dead' things life as to offer.
We should be quick to grasp an opportunity that might not come our way again, we should never give up without one huge of a fight, and we definitely should never wait to have leftovers. Go out there for your kill, it is possible. No one likes the Hyena anyway, don't be one.
Thursday, 13 February 2014
THAT ILLUSION
You always smile at the thought of someone thinking about you, someone admitting to missing you, someone taking you to nice little dates.Love is perfect, at first mostly. You have that new energy, you have those sparks that can start a fire in a closed room. You get lost in each others eyes, your tummy has butterflies every time he smiles at you. You feel alive, you feel glorious, awesome does not even begin to explain it. Even the frowning faces have a smile, you can tell they are different-good different.
Those little things he does for you, the texts, the flowers, the chocolates, making dinner once in while. They make a foundation for your love even stronger, they make you believe every thing they say concerning you.You are blessed, never been happier, never felt more thankful for your prince. You are convinced yours will last lifetime. You do not get why Sarah and Jake never made it! Love is a great feeling, who would give up such!
You are into the second year of commitment, still feels as though it were yesterday. The great feeling is still much alive. There is just a slight difference, the little acts have reduced. It is the work, it is weighing down on him. He has such much stuff to attend to you feel sorry for him. You do not want to add to his stress, you make sure the dinner is ready, the house is neat, you are just perfect and ready for him. You start to put his needs ahead of yours, isn't that what love is all about? He promises he will be back to normal, as soon as he finishes his urgent office stuff.
By the third year, office work is still piling in. The only thing left in your fantasy world are the memories. Occasionally, out of guilt, he brings home flowers at 9pm, two hours late for dinner. You are watching news or a documentary, cold food on the stove. He comes in, has a guilty face, apologizes profusely and put his hands in his face. 'Oh what will I do? I should quit this job, I feel bad we don't spend more time together.' He is one step away from getting that promotion, you are a step away if not already playing second wife after work. Yeah, he put a ring on his work too. That guilty statement melts away your concerns, you want what is best for him.
By the time you open your eyes, the gap between you and him is so wide you actually feel as though you're living with a stranger. If he has no time for you, he simply is not that interested. He is taking you for granted. He is cheating on you with someone/something else. When you were courting, he could move mountains for you, his schedule was manageable, seeing your face at the end of the day was a strong motivating factor. He never forgot the flowers, or the chocolate.
You look at the mirror, has your face changed? No. Has your skin fallen off? No. Have you grown fat? No. Are you pregnant? You don't think so.
You remember Sarah and Jake, you remember them so well. You vow you will not end up as they did. You will work for your vows. You kill yourself doing little nice things for him. You ensure breakfast is ready at 5am, even though you are totally wiped. You do this and that as advised by your girlfriends and those magazines. You go out of your way, but results are slow. Promises are still broken, 'apologies' keep streaming in.
Finally, you feel as though you're throwing yourself on the horse's path, to get trotted upon. You are exhausted, you are worn out. You need a new hobby, you get a job. You stop waiting up, you do not bother with the breakfast. By the time you have time for yourself, you are angry. Angry at yourself for allowing you to be walked upon. Angry at him for changing.
But you both changed, you stopped expecting happiness, you stopped demanding for your needs, you put your happiness aside, for a man.How sad....
Tuesday, 11 February 2014
A DAUGHTER, THAT BEAUTIFUL PEARL
She comes into this world fighting, it is always in the female species to fight; for survival. She brings with her a mixture of emotions, especially the urge to protect. When the parents hold her, it is evident she is loved, she makes your heart melt. With her first cry, her first laughter, her first silent facial emotion, you want in on her thoughts and feelings. You want to hold her so close and kiss her pretty little innocent face over and over. She is just perfect, a little of her mother, a little of her father.
She grows into a curious little thing, over here, over there. Like a normal baby, she wants to experience life at once, patience is not on her to do list. She puts anything she can in her mouth, nose and even ears. She will squeal when at the doctor's cubicle as the bead is removed from her ear. As a parent, you will feel for her, want to take her place, but you can't. You have to watch her suffer, as you blame yourself for being a 'bad parent' for not paying close attention. Sometime she will choke on a coin, or something she picked, yet you cannot remember how she got to it. You will cry as you hold her after that scary episode. You think you are wiped out.
She grows into a beautiful thing, always curious about the world. 'Mommy, why do you do this and that?' 'Daddy, where were you? Did you see this and that?' She will exhaust you with questions that at times you have no real answers to. She will make you think and think of the 'right' answer. If you lie, she will catch the truth, eventually. 'But I thought you said....' Their memories are weirdly accurate, because they believe every little thing you tell them, at least at their current age. They will not hide emotions from you, they will not pretend. Every day you see a little of you in them. Other days, you see all of yourself in them! Such a beautiful mirror.
She gets to that age where she puts on her mother's make up and play dress up with her besties, the dolls. She nurtures them exactly how she is being nurtured. She is a little lady in her little dress. She might opt to be a tom boy, playing with the neighborhood boys over girls, following her dad to his workshop and 'helping' him around. She is a girl beneath those overalls, those dungarees. She is a girl alright, despite her coming home covered in mud, happy to have 'helped' the boys repair a broken bicycle. She surprises you by asking for a bike, and she does not even need lessons on how to ride it. Thomas, your neighbor's son already taught her. She rides it to school, with the boys.
She is suddenly shy, suddenly as in you think it happened overnight. But you missed the first episode of her shyness. You cannot remember how it begun, how it happened. You are loosing the little angel. She is gaining the worldly wisdom, and she is no longer naive. You do not want to let go, you cannot let go. You have not had enough time with her! Only yesterday she ran to you with all the details of her life. Now you have to really pray she tells you a quarter of her life stories. You try to create an environment of trust,not that it was broken, but it is not you. She needs to figure herself out, she needs to get through by herself. You have to let go, keep your 'distance'. She will come around.
She will push your 'over-protectiveness' button to a new height. The boys know she is a gem, and boys are just boys. As a father, you remember when you were her age, when you went after girls for fun or 'love'. You get that chill down your spine, that is your own flesh and blood. Woe unto the boy who touches or hurts her. As a mother, you remember your teen life, how you got your heart severely wounded, how boys feigned love, how your mother warned you about this or that boy. Your heart aches at the thought of your little girl getting wounded, you are a bear. No one touches their cub, unless they got a death wish. She is still your little girl, no matter how old she gets.
She will get hurt, she will get bruised, she will make poor judgement calls, she will deviate from the good teachings and she might break your heart. But you will still love, protect and comfort her. You will always be her shoulder to cry on, despite the urge to utter 'I told you so'. You will threaten to beat up the boy who broke her heart, you will will stop her from seeing an unsuitable boy. She might hate you, oh she will definitely hate you. But you are her parents. She will keep learning, everyday, about life. She will only get to understand you as a parent when she gets her own family.
She is walking down the aisle, dressed in white like a princess. It is her wedding day,she is now a big girl, she has grown so fast. She hold your hands tight as though afraid to let go. She is finally leaving the nest, she will no longer have her parents everyday to herself. She has to let go, you have taught her well, she is ready. She is crying, as parents you smile reassuringly. As you hand her over to your son in law, you warn him not to hurt her or else....then you smile and in a friendly tone say 'Take care of our precious jewel'. He understands you completely. She finally lets go, hugs you and turns her back on you. She is gone, your beautiful pearl is gone.
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
DIARY OF A GRATEFUL CAT
Have you ever seen a naked starving cat? Have you ever been mistaken for something or someone else? Have you ever been on death row? Well I have been through all these things but came out stronger than ever, alive, not a ghost version of what I could have been.
Call me cat, I do not have a name yet, my owners are too busy with other domestic animals to give me a name. I wish to be called 'Survivor', because that is what I am.
I was found near dead by my current owner whom I will not mention because I don't want other species reading this to get the address, we are saturated at the compound as it is. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have others like me rescued but the survival rate, well lets just say, it will go down.
So, back to being found near dead. I looked like a rat, at least that's what one of my current owner said. I was astonished, 'ME! A RAT?' But I was dying, and details leading to my current state were vague. I was starving, my fur had fallen off and the cold, heat and fleas were having their moment. I know humans hate rats, but I was still shocked to know what they planned to do with me, kill me. Poor dirty starving me.What a way to go to the afterlife, naked, dirty and starving. Oh, and the look on the humans' faces, pure disgust at my sight.
I do not know what changed their minds, but I was alive two days later, at their homestead. I think they figured out I was not a rat. Anyways, I slowly made progress with my health. My fur started to grow back, my bony structure gained some body and muscles, my legs felt stronger. I knew recovery was a long way, but at least I was en route. I fed better than I had before, my amnesia started clearing(I hoped it wouldn't-just too painful).
I remembered my former home, my owner was cruel and abusive. Kicks in the back were not uncommon, no food for me, if I got lucky I would get some ugali. Yes, me a carnivore feeding on ground maize stirred in hot water. Rats were hard to come by, even they were fed up with the owner's mean spirit. No food scrapes lying anywhere, no access to the main house, or the food store. They packed and left. I had no one to play hide and seek with, neither did I have any meals, even the rats themselves.
The last blow came when I made a discovery at my mean owner's house. I smelt the aroma miles away, sneaked into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of meat lying on the table. I should have ran off, gotten a quiet private place and munched to my fill. I guess I was too hungry, I sat there and started feasting. It was so delicious that I forgot it was totally illegal. I did not see the blow coming, followed by a scream from my owner's wife. Daang! She kicked worse than her husband. I wanted to stay and fight but I was so afraid. I attempted to ran through the kitchen window but something was wrong with my hind legs. I think she broke them. I crawled with so much pain a midst more blows raining all over me. I was severely wounded and hurt. That woman would have killed me if I had stayed longer.
Off I crawled, painfully, hungry and angry. Rats lived better than me. I traveled for days until I lost consciousness at my current owner's farm. I must have stayed there for some time before they found me because my limbs were less painful.
Long story short, I survived this whole ordeal and now live happily with my new owners. See this little girl here? Well that's me, after my survival thing. I look happy and healthy right? I am. I have friends around here, some friendly others weird, but still friends. I would never want to go back to my former owner ever!! And NO! you do not want to see what I looked like before this, it scares me, it would kill you. Thank you owner for rescuing me.
Me and my best friend playing.
Call me cat, I do not have a name yet, my owners are too busy with other domestic animals to give me a name. I wish to be called 'Survivor', because that is what I am.
I was found near dead by my current owner whom I will not mention because I don't want other species reading this to get the address, we are saturated at the compound as it is. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have others like me rescued but the survival rate, well lets just say, it will go down.
So, back to being found near dead. I looked like a rat, at least that's what one of my current owner said. I was astonished, 'ME! A RAT?' But I was dying, and details leading to my current state were vague. I was starving, my fur had fallen off and the cold, heat and fleas were having their moment. I know humans hate rats, but I was still shocked to know what they planned to do with me, kill me. Poor dirty starving me.What a way to go to the afterlife, naked, dirty and starving. Oh, and the look on the humans' faces, pure disgust at my sight.
I do not know what changed their minds, but I was alive two days later, at their homestead. I think they figured out I was not a rat. Anyways, I slowly made progress with my health. My fur started to grow back, my bony structure gained some body and muscles, my legs felt stronger. I knew recovery was a long way, but at least I was en route. I fed better than I had before, my amnesia started clearing(I hoped it wouldn't-just too painful).
I remembered my former home, my owner was cruel and abusive. Kicks in the back were not uncommon, no food for me, if I got lucky I would get some ugali. Yes, me a carnivore feeding on ground maize stirred in hot water. Rats were hard to come by, even they were fed up with the owner's mean spirit. No food scrapes lying anywhere, no access to the main house, or the food store. They packed and left. I had no one to play hide and seek with, neither did I have any meals, even the rats themselves.
The last blow came when I made a discovery at my mean owner's house. I smelt the aroma miles away, sneaked into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of meat lying on the table. I should have ran off, gotten a quiet private place and munched to my fill. I guess I was too hungry, I sat there and started feasting. It was so delicious that I forgot it was totally illegal. I did not see the blow coming, followed by a scream from my owner's wife. Daang! She kicked worse than her husband. I wanted to stay and fight but I was so afraid. I attempted to ran through the kitchen window but something was wrong with my hind legs. I think she broke them. I crawled with so much pain a midst more blows raining all over me. I was severely wounded and hurt. That woman would have killed me if I had stayed longer.
Off I crawled, painfully, hungry and angry. Rats lived better than me. I traveled for days until I lost consciousness at my current owner's farm. I must have stayed there for some time before they found me because my limbs were less painful.Long story short, I survived this whole ordeal and now live happily with my new owners. See this little girl here? Well that's me, after my survival thing. I look happy and healthy right? I am. I have friends around here, some friendly others weird, but still friends. I would never want to go back to my former owner ever!! And NO! you do not want to see what I looked like before this, it scares me, it would kill you. Thank you owner for rescuing me.
Me and my best friend playing.
Sunday, 26 January 2014
I WISH...
I wish I would just get a life so much less complex, so much less stressful. If only wishes were horses! I wish the world-train would stop for a moment to let me catch my breath, even get off the train for a stroll of my own. I wouldn't mind, am sure, if the world train were to start again and pass me by, I am sure after travelling for some time, it would stop for the next 'me' to get off, by then I would have made a decision whether to get back in or stay out.
I wish I had the luxury of wasting time and not having severe repercussions, I wish my pockets were overflowing with gold and diamonds to last me a lifetime, so that I would sit back, relax and never have an ounce of worry in my system. If only this would buy me eternity and immortality would I obsess, if only this would ensure a perfect life for me. Only then would I really really wish and work for all the riches this world can offer.
I wish I had a better system of governance to rule over me, I wish there was complete fairness and transparency in the way things are conducted. I wish corruption would turn into a plague and wipe out whoever attempts to catch it. Oh! I wish the unjust, unkind, killers and back stabbers would burn under the scorching sun, if only I was perfect would I really really pray for damnation to all 'evildoers'.
I wish the world would learn the art of love, I wish it would be perfected. I wish the many verbal declarations of love to others would be true. Then, we would have no wars, no murders, no prejudice, no tears of betrayal and anger... We would have a peaceful world, no street families, no refugees, no prisons and certainly Hell would be empty.....I wish I would have a polite conversation with a stranger without raising suspicion and alarm, especially in major cities. If only me would perfect the art of love and kindness, then would I initiate the wheel of change, and urge others to join without batting an eye.
I wish I did not have to wish. Many a times my wish-grants are elusive, so wishing is a recipe for disappointment. But I will wish anyway. I will wish and hope for the best despite many troubles, I will wish for strength to go through what cannot be helped. I will wish for a better world and a better people. I will wish for that, so that me, you and them can co-exist better with mother nature, instead of punishing each other now and then. And certainly so that we can relate better with our maker. I wish.....
Monday, 13 January 2014
THE MIDWIFE IN ME- first delivery
That day, I woke up expectant and determined. I would get to perform my very own first 'normal' delivery, with close supervision and back up. I was a mixture of excitement, nervousness and on the edge. I took my breakfast and headed for the Maternity wing. Thankfully, it was not very busy nor was it as calm. Busy meant so much activities that you hardly do one composed thing without another interrupting you. Fairly busy meant a steady flow of work, with breaks to let you take a breather.
After the handing over report, I headed for the labor suite. It was a good morning, there were several mothers in labor and we were fewer students comparatively. I greeted them and got to run through their files. I knew their stories alright. I picked an easier candidate, 'easier' in the fact that she had delivered before, if you are knowledgeable in midwifery you know why it is easier. Call me a student who takes the easier path, I wanted a smooth first time....After all they taught us that the learning concept should start with the simple details headed towards the difficult ones.
I approached this lady(I choose to call her Nelly)whom I had chosen, identified myself and requested to take care of her till she delivered. I was still under a qualified midwife, but I had settled in. It was not like the first day really. She smiled at me and asked me to rub her back while she went through a contraction. "Of course." I said giving her my best back rub. "You a student?" She wanted to know. I confirmed what my identification tag read and what I had earlier told her. She smiled at me as though reassuring me. "How many babies have you helped deliver..." She said it as though it was more of a statement rather than a question. I pondered on the answer. Was this a trick question?
"I have witnessed several deliveries, I have assisted in a few, but I have never primarily conducted one." I answered truthfully. She wanted to say something but another strong contraction hit her. I rubbed her back and hoped for the best. "I am a nurse myself." I basically did not hear anything else she said after the bomb she just dropped. We, medics are officially known as the worst patients,not that she was one, but it served that purpose. Her file read otherwise, Nelly said she was also into business. I momentarily freaked, I wanted out. "You will do just fine. We can help each other you know.." She said smiling. I was shocked, but hid it well. She was the nicest medic-client I had come across in a long time. Most women have reservations about a student tending to them, understandably so.
Nelly progressed well, she was brave and knew the do's and don't's of labor. She was actually teaching me some stuff by just watching and listening to her. She knew before I did an examination on her that she was ready to deliver. "I have an urge to bear down" More like, I wanna go poop. Upon examination, she had sure reached full dilatation. Off to the delivery suite, my teacher never leaving me.
I scrubbed and gowned, cleaned and draped Nelly. So far so good because my teacher just stood inches away supervising my every move. For some reason, I was not so nervous. Nelly was comfortable to be around. I gave Nelly the obvious advice(not that she needed it), "with each contraction, push your baby out. Without one, take your rest." Daang! I sounded like a midwife! She nodded her head. "You will do just fine, I can see the baby's hair." I encouraged her. She smiled at the thought of holding her baby. A contraction hit her, my teacher and I encouraged her to push the baby out. She gave her best push and the head was delivered. I quickly checked for any cord around the baby's neck. Finding none and with restitution having taken place, I gently held the head and delivered the upper body with a downward movement,then upward movement freed the lower body. I heard my teacher announce the time of delivery as I placed the baby on the mother's abdomen. It gasped and gave a loud wail of protest. I smiled as I clamped and cut the cord. They were now separated, mother and child, after months of being together. It was a girl, a beautiful little thing that made my heart melt.
I finished the after birth activities with much caution though confident.
In her mother's arms, the baby calmed and almost immediately started surveying her environment. Her little eyes would momentarily focus on some object as though she could already figure it out. Taken from her mother's arms, she squealed as she was wiped dry and kept warm. She had a perfect weight and a quick examination later revealed no obvious anomalies. She was already making suckling sounds which was adorable. I wished she was mine as I held her for the second time, she looked at me and I felt a warm feeling take control of my body. Nelly was so grateful for my help and I was happy she and her young one were fine. Baby Nelly was placed on her mother's breast and she started suckling like a pro. "No, thank you Nelly for an opportunity to help me grow in my career."
I was elated to say the least, happy and grateful that all was well. I was on the right learning path. Not all moments go fine, you learn that when a tragedy hits you right in your face. Watch out for my next blog to learn more on my day gone complex.
After the handing over report, I headed for the labor suite. It was a good morning, there were several mothers in labor and we were fewer students comparatively. I greeted them and got to run through their files. I knew their stories alright. I picked an easier candidate, 'easier' in the fact that she had delivered before, if you are knowledgeable in midwifery you know why it is easier. Call me a student who takes the easier path, I wanted a smooth first time....After all they taught us that the learning concept should start with the simple details headed towards the difficult ones.
I approached this lady(I choose to call her Nelly)whom I had chosen, identified myself and requested to take care of her till she delivered. I was still under a qualified midwife, but I had settled in. It was not like the first day really. She smiled at me and asked me to rub her back while she went through a contraction. "Of course." I said giving her my best back rub. "You a student?" She wanted to know. I confirmed what my identification tag read and what I had earlier told her. She smiled at me as though reassuring me. "How many babies have you helped deliver..." She said it as though it was more of a statement rather than a question. I pondered on the answer. Was this a trick question?
"I have witnessed several deliveries, I have assisted in a few, but I have never primarily conducted one." I answered truthfully. She wanted to say something but another strong contraction hit her. I rubbed her back and hoped for the best. "I am a nurse myself." I basically did not hear anything else she said after the bomb she just dropped. We, medics are officially known as the worst patients,not that she was one, but it served that purpose. Her file read otherwise, Nelly said she was also into business. I momentarily freaked, I wanted out. "You will do just fine. We can help each other you know.." She said smiling. I was shocked, but hid it well. She was the nicest medic-client I had come across in a long time. Most women have reservations about a student tending to them, understandably so.
Nelly progressed well, she was brave and knew the do's and don't's of labor. She was actually teaching me some stuff by just watching and listening to her. She knew before I did an examination on her that she was ready to deliver. "I have an urge to bear down" More like, I wanna go poop. Upon examination, she had sure reached full dilatation. Off to the delivery suite, my teacher never leaving me.
I scrubbed and gowned, cleaned and draped Nelly. So far so good because my teacher just stood inches away supervising my every move. For some reason, I was not so nervous. Nelly was comfortable to be around. I gave Nelly the obvious advice(not that she needed it), "with each contraction, push your baby out. Without one, take your rest." Daang! I sounded like a midwife! She nodded her head. "You will do just fine, I can see the baby's hair." I encouraged her. She smiled at the thought of holding her baby. A contraction hit her, my teacher and I encouraged her to push the baby out. She gave her best push and the head was delivered. I quickly checked for any cord around the baby's neck. Finding none and with restitution having taken place, I gently held the head and delivered the upper body with a downward movement,then upward movement freed the lower body. I heard my teacher announce the time of delivery as I placed the baby on the mother's abdomen. It gasped and gave a loud wail of protest. I smiled as I clamped and cut the cord. They were now separated, mother and child, after months of being together. It was a girl, a beautiful little thing that made my heart melt.
I finished the after birth activities with much caution though confident.
In her mother's arms, the baby calmed and almost immediately started surveying her environment. Her little eyes would momentarily focus on some object as though she could already figure it out. Taken from her mother's arms, she squealed as she was wiped dry and kept warm. She had a perfect weight and a quick examination later revealed no obvious anomalies. She was already making suckling sounds which was adorable. I wished she was mine as I held her for the second time, she looked at me and I felt a warm feeling take control of my body. Nelly was so grateful for my help and I was happy she and her young one were fine. Baby Nelly was placed on her mother's breast and she started suckling like a pro. "No, thank you Nelly for an opportunity to help me grow in my career."
I was elated to say the least, happy and grateful that all was well. I was on the right learning path. Not all moments go fine, you learn that when a tragedy hits you right in your face. Watch out for my next blog to learn more on my day gone complex.
THAT NAKED TRUTH
I stepped into a church yesterday for the first time in like forever. It was an awkward feeling going into the presence of God, His sanctuary that I had not visited for such a long time. Actually, let me go back to the beginning.
At around 8:40am, I stirred from my sleep, looked at my phone and started planning my day. It was something to do with church but there was not an ounce of enthusiasm to it. Rather, it was a guilt trip, I started feeling bad that despite ignoring God's sanctuary in like forever, I was still alive, healthy, had a complete family, had clothing and shelter...my most basic things. I had actually seen the new year, something I definitely did not deserve. I remembered those 'more deserving' people who had horrible things happen to them, those languishing in hospitals and other places. Those lacking the most basic of all things, those in very very unfair situations. I did not feel more important, I felt defeated by His Grace because that was what it was, pure grace...It is promiscuous, I am living proof..It did follow me despite my shortcomings, despite me not seeking Him.
As I lay in my bed still thinking about many things, I heard this 'noise' that was coming from a block away. It was very loud and I started to mumble, I said to me, "Do these noise regulation rules not work anymore?" I was frustrated and pissed. Then I listened again, and behold the 'noise' was such a beautiful melody coming from a nearby church. The music was that of worship, it was awesome in a refreshing manner. I felt ashamed because I was quick to condemn the 'noise' yet I was not bothered by the restaurant across my place that was outrageously loud at night. In fact, I had learnt to sleep right through the music with no much complaints. I felt ashamed to say the least.
Anywho, I got out of bed and prepared myself for a session with God. It was time to face Him.I did not plan on hiding my head in a shell like a turtle, that's where the devil wanted me. He used that guilt and I fell for it. I am one of the most judgmental people you can possibly find. I judge myself and even condemn me at times. I judged the Christianity in people, I judged the pastors and leaders of the church. I have seen enough examples of people using the gospel to exploit unsuspecting victims (if I may call them that-excuse me...1st John 4:1-6(NIV) Dear friends, do not believe every spirit,but test the spirits to see whether they are from God,because many false prophets have gone out into the world......it goes on to elaborate how to discern).Again I am judging so help me God, I know I am instructed not to judge lest I be judged..Matthew 7:1-3," Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way as you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you....."
I left my house and cautiously walked into the church, I was sure I would bolt at the first sign of 'unchrist like' activities. I think they exist, they are not uncommon and unfortunately most Christians get tangled into the vicious web, knowingly or otherwise, I don't know. So, I enter, I am warmly greeted by a friendly usher and shown where to seat. I walk up to my seat, its intercessory time and people are praying,some kneeling some standing. They are in deep talks with God, I feel lost for moment. I take my seat and decide to talk to God. At this point, I still have my fears if not reservations. I am cautious if not paranoid, but as time goes I start to settle in. These people seem sincere with God and that encourages me, I start to settle in. At some point, the leader of the prayers asks the church to repent of the sin of hatred. It does make sense, it does make lots of sense. He asked us to pray for love in our midst.
1st Corinthians 13:4-8(NIV), "Love is patient,love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts,always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails......."
1st John 4:20(NIV) 'If anyone says, "I love God," yet he hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.'
All the above make sense, and are true. I harbored dislike for some people, I needed to let go. It is not easy, but it was a step. I felt selfish; unforgiving me wanted forgiving Jesus to forgive me. Ironical huh? I said the Lord's prayer often enough, the phrase '....And forgive us our trespasses, as WE FORGIVE those who trespass against us....'was part of what I uttered. Hmmmmm, lying even in my prayers? I had so much to clear with my maker.
I am not alone in this, most people harbor hatred for at least one person, grudges are all over in the air. Silent or loud, they are there.
Fortunately for the human race, us, there is redemption, grace and mercy. For no one is perfect. Romans 3:10(NIV),'As it is written, There is no-one righteous, not even one.'
That does encourage me, but we have to strive to be Christ-like. He set a high standard, we have to make an effort to be like Him.
The service, to say the least was awesome. I felt comfortable, I felt welcomed in my makers presence despite my shortcomings, despite not going into His house for more than I can remember, He was willing to welcome His lost sheep. He did not judge me, He encouraged me to be more like Him. There was this air of pure happiness, peace and joy that I had been missing for ages. I was spiritually starved, undernourished and the sad thing about it, I had no idea all along.Psalms 16:11(NIV) '......you feel me with joy in your presence....' I left the sanctuary better than I went in. I left that place confident as opposed to how I had gone in.
Bottom line is, you have a good functional body(and as a medic that's not to be taken for granted), you have the basic needs fulfilled and extra others. You have a job(something we take for granted at times), you are safe and so on. It is not automatic your life to be okay, it takes a divine power to ensure that. The grace God gives is unbelievably awesome. If you are in my former shoes, just make a revisit your relationship with God, you need Him, He needs you to need Him, but He can do without us. We on the other hand are nothing without Him. Deuteronomy 4:29(NIV), 'But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you look for him with all your heart and with all your soul.' Be grateful to God for every little detail in your life,and always put Him first. He is a jealous God... Exodus 20:5.
At around 8:40am, I stirred from my sleep, looked at my phone and started planning my day. It was something to do with church but there was not an ounce of enthusiasm to it. Rather, it was a guilt trip, I started feeling bad that despite ignoring God's sanctuary in like forever, I was still alive, healthy, had a complete family, had clothing and shelter...my most basic things. I had actually seen the new year, something I definitely did not deserve. I remembered those 'more deserving' people who had horrible things happen to them, those languishing in hospitals and other places. Those lacking the most basic of all things, those in very very unfair situations. I did not feel more important, I felt defeated by His Grace because that was what it was, pure grace...It is promiscuous, I am living proof..It did follow me despite my shortcomings, despite me not seeking Him.
As I lay in my bed still thinking about many things, I heard this 'noise' that was coming from a block away. It was very loud and I started to mumble, I said to me, "Do these noise regulation rules not work anymore?" I was frustrated and pissed. Then I listened again, and behold the 'noise' was such a beautiful melody coming from a nearby church. The music was that of worship, it was awesome in a refreshing manner. I felt ashamed because I was quick to condemn the 'noise' yet I was not bothered by the restaurant across my place that was outrageously loud at night. In fact, I had learnt to sleep right through the music with no much complaints. I felt ashamed to say the least.
Anywho, I got out of bed and prepared myself for a session with God. It was time to face Him.I did not plan on hiding my head in a shell like a turtle, that's where the devil wanted me. He used that guilt and I fell for it. I am one of the most judgmental people you can possibly find. I judge myself and even condemn me at times. I judged the Christianity in people, I judged the pastors and leaders of the church. I have seen enough examples of people using the gospel to exploit unsuspecting victims (if I may call them that-excuse me...1st John 4:1-6(NIV) Dear friends, do not believe every spirit,but test the spirits to see whether they are from God,because many false prophets have gone out into the world......it goes on to elaborate how to discern).Again I am judging so help me God, I know I am instructed not to judge lest I be judged..Matthew 7:1-3," Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way as you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you....."
I left my house and cautiously walked into the church, I was sure I would bolt at the first sign of 'unchrist like' activities. I think they exist, they are not uncommon and unfortunately most Christians get tangled into the vicious web, knowingly or otherwise, I don't know. So, I enter, I am warmly greeted by a friendly usher and shown where to seat. I walk up to my seat, its intercessory time and people are praying,some kneeling some standing. They are in deep talks with God, I feel lost for moment. I take my seat and decide to talk to God. At this point, I still have my fears if not reservations. I am cautious if not paranoid, but as time goes I start to settle in. These people seem sincere with God and that encourages me, I start to settle in. At some point, the leader of the prayers asks the church to repent of the sin of hatred. It does make sense, it does make lots of sense. He asked us to pray for love in our midst.
1st Corinthians 13:4-8(NIV), "Love is patient,love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts,always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails......."
1st John 4:20(NIV) 'If anyone says, "I love God," yet he hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.'
All the above make sense, and are true. I harbored dislike for some people, I needed to let go. It is not easy, but it was a step. I felt selfish; unforgiving me wanted forgiving Jesus to forgive me. Ironical huh? I said the Lord's prayer often enough, the phrase '....And forgive us our trespasses, as WE FORGIVE those who trespass against us....'was part of what I uttered. Hmmmmm, lying even in my prayers? I had so much to clear with my maker.
I am not alone in this, most people harbor hatred for at least one person, grudges are all over in the air. Silent or loud, they are there.
Fortunately for the human race, us, there is redemption, grace and mercy. For no one is perfect. Romans 3:10(NIV),'As it is written, There is no-one righteous, not even one.'
That does encourage me, but we have to strive to be Christ-like. He set a high standard, we have to make an effort to be like Him.
The service, to say the least was awesome. I felt comfortable, I felt welcomed in my makers presence despite my shortcomings, despite not going into His house for more than I can remember, He was willing to welcome His lost sheep. He did not judge me, He encouraged me to be more like Him. There was this air of pure happiness, peace and joy that I had been missing for ages. I was spiritually starved, undernourished and the sad thing about it, I had no idea all along.Psalms 16:11(NIV) '......you feel me with joy in your presence....' I left the sanctuary better than I went in. I left that place confident as opposed to how I had gone in.
Bottom line is, you have a good functional body(and as a medic that's not to be taken for granted), you have the basic needs fulfilled and extra others. You have a job(something we take for granted at times), you are safe and so on. It is not automatic your life to be okay, it takes a divine power to ensure that. The grace God gives is unbelievably awesome. If you are in my former shoes, just make a revisit your relationship with God, you need Him, He needs you to need Him, but He can do without us. We on the other hand are nothing without Him. Deuteronomy 4:29(NIV), 'But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you look for him with all your heart and with all your soul.' Be grateful to God for every little detail in your life,and always put Him first. He is a jealous God... Exodus 20:5.
Thursday, 9 January 2014
THE MIDWIFE IN ME
When I first entered the doors of labor ward I was in awe. I had not experienced such level of noise within hospital walls. I was a student then. Most signs we see in any hospital or clinic set up urge you to maintain silence. Remember that nurse in white with her index finger on her mouth indicating silence? Yeah, don't expect to find her in the labor and delivery suites. Noise here is inevitable, in fact its become some sort of melody albeit unorganized. The post natal ward is different in that the noise makers are the neonates, well, its a joy to hear them now and then protesting to whatever they think is wrong.
I do not remember in detail what transpired during my first clinical day as a student midwife,mostly because my mind was still trying to put all those book details they teach you to practice. I was a nervous wreck to say the least; books give you a certain kind of confidence that is tested in the practical aspect of the subject. One day whilst studying in class, I actually thought I was ready to help deliver a young one, it was just a matter of perfecting the maneuvers, right? Turns out you need massive practice to 'perfect' that art.
There were several mothers in active labor. Active as in their cervical dilatation was 4cm and above, the contractions were increasing in intensity and frequency. In short, the misery of being in pain was well highlighted and I felt sorry for them. I was, as students should be, under the 'care' of my instructor and qualified midwife whom I followed around learning what I could on day one. She was of course pretty used to almost everything pertaining to labor and child birth. She had her own first day stories that made me somewhat at ease. She could tell her protegee was struggling to take it all in at once.
We were allocated lady A, a first time mother-to-be(Primgravida) who was more nervous than I probably was. Having heard several versions of how labor would be, she sat on her bed sweating expecting the worst pains ever. When an examination was done and she was informed her progress was just fine, she shot out, "When will it get worse?" Wrong question to another nervous person. My instructor was there to save the day, she did all she could to reassure her. Lady A seemed to relax for some few minutes. A scream from her neighbor made her get from her bed and walk about. "Will I scream like that?" She asked me. I honestly didn't know if she would scream like that so I just asked her to breathe deeply when a contraction hit her. I felt lame.
"How come she is not screaming?" I asked my instructor. Of course I had learnt each person's pain perception is different but I could not believe a mother with such contractions would be calm, especially a primgravida. I want labor like that, I told myself. No screaming, no embarrassing me, no drama. I am yet to find out what my score on that will be, if I get a chance to undergo labor. What I later discovered is that there is no shame in labor ward. A mother will rip out her clothes and beg for very cold water. Some say the heat is unbearable. Some even advice you as a young lady not be 'cheated' by these men. Others promise to never bear children again, only to find them back two or so years down the line very pregnant. In short, do not seriously take into account 'nasty' words uttered by a mother in labor, but listen anyway.
Back to lady A. She was lucky to have her husband by her side, rubbing her back whenever she was contracting, fanning her when the heat was much, encouraging her and such stuff. Men, it does help to support your woman through labor, but honestly not all of you are cut out for that. If you cannot stand the site of the whole labor thing, take a walk, lurk nearby lest you faint. I have seen some men faint in the delivery suite, later after an inquiry, you understand they got super-scared especially because of the site of blood....
Two hours later, she was having strong contractions, the pain had kicked in full swing. The calm lady began her melodious wail, occasionally turning to her husband and offering a piece of her mind. Just like that, my role model was gone and in her place stood the person I hoped she would not turn into. During all the wails, no tears were produced. They say you feel the pain to the root of your hair, tears are hard to come by, but that is from some individuals. I was instantly fast forwarded to the future and I saw me wailing (louder than her) in labor. As a hopeful mother to be, I was discouraged.
Our mother reached fully dilation after hours and in to the delivery suite we went. Out came the baby along with stuff I am careful not to mention for the sake of my audience. The pain, you could see it in her eyes, was worth it. The beautiful thing that had caused so much grief gave her such joy that you could capture it. She was in tears, grateful to God, the midwives and she was all over again more in love with her husband. I tried so hard not to cry with her when she held her young one. No one can ever take away such a moment from you as a midwife. It is divine, it is one of the best feelings to watch a mother hold her young knowing they are all healthy and alive. They tell you the pain goes away immediately the baby is born and some cannot remember what it was like. As mother, dad and angel bonded, I felt a sense of pride. I had survived the first few hours of my day. I felt confident enough to face the remainder of my day in labor ward. I knew I had not made a mistake in pursuing a course in midwifery.
There were several mothers in active labor. Active as in their cervical dilatation was 4cm and above, the contractions were increasing in intensity and frequency. In short, the misery of being in pain was well highlighted and I felt sorry for them. I was, as students should be, under the 'care' of my instructor and qualified midwife whom I followed around learning what I could on day one. She was of course pretty used to almost everything pertaining to labor and child birth. She had her own first day stories that made me somewhat at ease. She could tell her protegee was struggling to take it all in at once.
We were allocated lady A, a first time mother-to-be(Primgravida) who was more nervous than I probably was. Having heard several versions of how labor would be, she sat on her bed sweating expecting the worst pains ever. When an examination was done and she was informed her progress was just fine, she shot out, "When will it get worse?" Wrong question to another nervous person. My instructor was there to save the day, she did all she could to reassure her. Lady A seemed to relax for some few minutes. A scream from her neighbor made her get from her bed and walk about. "Will I scream like that?" She asked me. I honestly didn't know if she would scream like that so I just asked her to breathe deeply when a contraction hit her. I felt lame.
"How come she is not screaming?" I asked my instructor. Of course I had learnt each person's pain perception is different but I could not believe a mother with such contractions would be calm, especially a primgravida. I want labor like that, I told myself. No screaming, no embarrassing me, no drama. I am yet to find out what my score on that will be, if I get a chance to undergo labor. What I later discovered is that there is no shame in labor ward. A mother will rip out her clothes and beg for very cold water. Some say the heat is unbearable. Some even advice you as a young lady not be 'cheated' by these men. Others promise to never bear children again, only to find them back two or so years down the line very pregnant. In short, do not seriously take into account 'nasty' words uttered by a mother in labor, but listen anyway.
Back to lady A. She was lucky to have her husband by her side, rubbing her back whenever she was contracting, fanning her when the heat was much, encouraging her and such stuff. Men, it does help to support your woman through labor, but honestly not all of you are cut out for that. If you cannot stand the site of the whole labor thing, take a walk, lurk nearby lest you faint. I have seen some men faint in the delivery suite, later after an inquiry, you understand they got super-scared especially because of the site of blood....
Two hours later, she was having strong contractions, the pain had kicked in full swing. The calm lady began her melodious wail, occasionally turning to her husband and offering a piece of her mind. Just like that, my role model was gone and in her place stood the person I hoped she would not turn into. During all the wails, no tears were produced. They say you feel the pain to the root of your hair, tears are hard to come by, but that is from some individuals. I was instantly fast forwarded to the future and I saw me wailing (louder than her) in labor. As a hopeful mother to be, I was discouraged.
Our mother reached fully dilation after hours and in to the delivery suite we went. Out came the baby along with stuff I am careful not to mention for the sake of my audience. The pain, you could see it in her eyes, was worth it. The beautiful thing that had caused so much grief gave her such joy that you could capture it. She was in tears, grateful to God, the midwives and she was all over again more in love with her husband. I tried so hard not to cry with her when she held her young one. No one can ever take away such a moment from you as a midwife. It is divine, it is one of the best feelings to watch a mother hold her young knowing they are all healthy and alive. They tell you the pain goes away immediately the baby is born and some cannot remember what it was like. As mother, dad and angel bonded, I felt a sense of pride. I had survived the first few hours of my day. I felt confident enough to face the remainder of my day in labor ward. I knew I had not made a mistake in pursuing a course in midwifery.
Tuesday, 7 January 2014
CARRY ON, NEVER GIVE UP.
Sitting in a corner watching the horizon, not really watching but in deep thoughts. So much to be done in a short span of time. Such little resources, if any. Worrying and over thinking does not help much, it only wastes time that would otherwise have been spent thinking of a way-forward plan. Giving up is not an option,neither is giving in to other plans, well at least not until all other plan A avenues are exhausted.
Life is fair and again not fair. It hands you opportunities at some point, and things just generally flow. At some point later, it denies you chances that make you wonder if it was meant to be or you at times doubt your abilities and hope for a great future. If you do not have the perseverance quality and fighting spirit in you, giving up is the easiest thing to do. During those moments, others' success and abilities are magnified in your sight, what you had earlier overlooked or simply not noted before about their success is heightened. You can choose to let that dampen your spirit or encourage you. The later is a more wise choice.
Most successful people have their story, listening to them gets you to understand that motivation, vision and planning are crucial. Resources will get you where you want if only you have the above three. Others, with minimal resources, hold on to hope and faith while never taking their eyes off the prize. Eventually, no matter how long it takes or how rough it gets, those few people make it to the promised land. Some of their stories will captivate you, make you reflect further on your life and so forth. Some of the stories seem far fetched, but the results do convince you otherwise.
Most of us give in or up somewhere along the rough road, not realizing that a breakthrough was just a few steps away. An infant has to learn how to crawl, then learn how to walk. This does not come without a few falls and scratches. The kid will cry yes, it hurts, but I have never seen a child learning how to walk give in to the fear of falling and getting bruised. Their enthusiastic nature keeps them on their toes and eventually they can run!! If only we adults could tap into our infancy enthusiasm....
Choosing to look back and concentrating on the hardship you have experienced along the way should not be a way of caving in to the doubting Thomas in you. It should be a way of encouragement, if you have come thus far, then you no doubt can complete the journey ahead no matter how dark and twisted the tunnel is. If you can prove your fears wrong, the brave in you grows more. We all know we have both the negative and positive wolves in us. Feed courage and it will dominate your whole being, feed fear and disbelief and that too will dominate you and take you nowhere interesting.
At times, all of us face fear, loose hope and are discouraged at some point in our life. It is normal, it is very human of us. However, learning when to get out of our cocoon is what makes the difference between those who made it and those who almost made it. The world does not celebrate those who almost made it my friends, it celebrates those who did and made a difference in doing so. So, carry on despite the obstacles. Quit having a 'pity' party, if you must have it, don't take too long, all parties have an end. If you would rather extend the party, don't drag others who are enroute to success. In short, drag no one but yourself down the 'I almost made it' drain. If you have to,drag people along the success path, they will one day thank you for it, at least those who make it.
The pace, if you ask me, does not really matter. As one wise good friend of mine said, "It is not a competition to see who gets material possession first and fast, but it is important to live your life on your own terms and not society terms." I think the point put across was important. Move at your own pace, live on your own terms, succeed because you need to reach self actualization not because you need to prove a point, as much as that soothes your ego. Do not compare your path with other people's paths, walk your own and achieve your own goals your own way.
Honestly, its easier said than done and as I write this, I wonder if I will live up to my own advice. But then I know I have no choice, I must cultivate courage and a belief in my ability (through my maker). Otherwise the fear wolf will dominate. So see you my friends on the other side, the 'I made it' side because that's where I am headed. :-)
Life is fair and again not fair. It hands you opportunities at some point, and things just generally flow. At some point later, it denies you chances that make you wonder if it was meant to be or you at times doubt your abilities and hope for a great future. If you do not have the perseverance quality and fighting spirit in you, giving up is the easiest thing to do. During those moments, others' success and abilities are magnified in your sight, what you had earlier overlooked or simply not noted before about their success is heightened. You can choose to let that dampen your spirit or encourage you. The later is a more wise choice.
Most successful people have their story, listening to them gets you to understand that motivation, vision and planning are crucial. Resources will get you where you want if only you have the above three. Others, with minimal resources, hold on to hope and faith while never taking their eyes off the prize. Eventually, no matter how long it takes or how rough it gets, those few people make it to the promised land. Some of their stories will captivate you, make you reflect further on your life and so forth. Some of the stories seem far fetched, but the results do convince you otherwise.
Most of us give in or up somewhere along the rough road, not realizing that a breakthrough was just a few steps away. An infant has to learn how to crawl, then learn how to walk. This does not come without a few falls and scratches. The kid will cry yes, it hurts, but I have never seen a child learning how to walk give in to the fear of falling and getting bruised. Their enthusiastic nature keeps them on their toes and eventually they can run!! If only we adults could tap into our infancy enthusiasm....
Choosing to look back and concentrating on the hardship you have experienced along the way should not be a way of caving in to the doubting Thomas in you. It should be a way of encouragement, if you have come thus far, then you no doubt can complete the journey ahead no matter how dark and twisted the tunnel is. If you can prove your fears wrong, the brave in you grows more. We all know we have both the negative and positive wolves in us. Feed courage and it will dominate your whole being, feed fear and disbelief and that too will dominate you and take you nowhere interesting.
At times, all of us face fear, loose hope and are discouraged at some point in our life. It is normal, it is very human of us. However, learning when to get out of our cocoon is what makes the difference between those who made it and those who almost made it. The world does not celebrate those who almost made it my friends, it celebrates those who did and made a difference in doing so. So, carry on despite the obstacles. Quit having a 'pity' party, if you must have it, don't take too long, all parties have an end. If you would rather extend the party, don't drag others who are enroute to success. In short, drag no one but yourself down the 'I almost made it' drain. If you have to,drag people along the success path, they will one day thank you for it, at least those who make it.
The pace, if you ask me, does not really matter. As one wise good friend of mine said, "It is not a competition to see who gets material possession first and fast, but it is important to live your life on your own terms and not society terms." I think the point put across was important. Move at your own pace, live on your own terms, succeed because you need to reach self actualization not because you need to prove a point, as much as that soothes your ego. Do not compare your path with other people's paths, walk your own and achieve your own goals your own way.
Honestly, its easier said than done and as I write this, I wonder if I will live up to my own advice. But then I know I have no choice, I must cultivate courage and a belief in my ability (through my maker). Otherwise the fear wolf will dominate. So see you my friends on the other side, the 'I made it' side because that's where I am headed. :-)
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