I could remember vividly a time I was very ill and was lying on the hospital bed. My body then wasn't mine anymore, or so it felt, it wad just pain throughout. My skin, pale, my chest, tight, my eyes, teary, my legs, shaking, my hands, trembling. I was tired of the drips, medications, injections and all, I was tired of the pityful eyes I see on a daily.
The diagnosis came in already, and it happens that the illness would definitely take a long time, one that will rewrite the story of my life. I was just in my early twenties, but I felt like I had aged, and I kept help but wonder if this was how the rest of my life would be like....hospitals, bed rest, injections, pills, prayers...
One particular evening, I was so weak, but since have been told to try and sit up atimes, I decided to give it a try, it wasn't easy being in a sitting position after a surgey, I just sat there quietly watching other patients and the nurses going in and out, few minutes later some nurses wheel another patient. I later got to know that the man's name was Mr Sadiku.
He was in his early sixties, and he's just another patient in the ward. He stood up and walked slowly with the help of a stick to his bed, I was not even concerned about the way he was walking, what caught my attention was his spirit and the smile on his face.
“Hmm… why are you looking like you have decide to give up,” he said, smiling gently as he dropped his stick by the bedside.
I didn’t give a response, I just looked away.
But then, he continued.
"You know I’ve been here four times? They said my kidneys are failing and I won't even survive, but I have decided to fight it, I wont just go down."
His bed was just next to mine, he dragged himself up again and came to sit beside me, we talked as if we've known each other for long, he told me about his children, grandchildren, the passage of his wife and how he has always learn to live, how he has learn to smile at something...even if it is to smile at how a patient reacts when getting injection or the walking/talking style of a nurse.
“You must find joy even in small things, even if you were told you can't eat yet, laugh it of and tell them don't you know I don't joke with my stomach, and if you can eat too, eat, stop thinking and confuse the sickness itself, it would be confused as to if it's in the right body." he said.
That night, I can't stop hearing his voice in my head....: “confuse the sickness itself, it would be confused as to if it's in the right body."
My mum and brother wasn't around the whole time, they had gone to get drugs and other necessities. The next morning, instead of lying in bed crying or just staring bas I always do, I told my mum to help clean my body, she did, I brushed my hair and asked the nurse for a mirror, she looked at me somehow but still gave me one from her bag, I cleaned my face, changed my cloth and requested to be assisted to walk out, I did my best to smile as well, though it felt strange but I can't deny it did something to me.
Every other day, I sat with Mr Sadiku. We prayed together, we gisted, we laughed, we ate, we even joke about who had more wrinkles on the face. He showed me his diary which he's been using for years, I saw how that he loves to write and I start doing same too.
Back then, I didn’t realise it, but I had taken a leaf from his book, the way he had fought and has refused sickness steal her spirit. I also began to copy his little rituals....gratitude, prayer laughter and courage.
Some weeks later, I did some other test and the result shows slight improvement. The illness was still there, but I am a changed person already, I have stopped seeing myself as a victim, am now seeing myself as a fighter.
I stayed in the hospital for about three months. I also did what Mr Sadiku did, I would visit other patient, gist, smile, pray and eat together, I was also telling them to try and do certain things, that they should confuse the sickness.
One day, I just sat down on the bed and looked around the ward, there's nothing like that anymore, when last have I even give it a thought, I wasn't the guy waiting to die anymore, I was the guy now helping others live through theirs.
Well, finally I got discharged, even the doctors told me they didn’t expect such recovery for my case. But I knew it wasn’t just the surgery and medications, it was the mindset I borrowed from an old man with walking stick who had refused to let his health, pain and struggle silence his joy and steal his smile.
After I left, I never saw Mr Sadiku, I didn't even know if he made it or not, but now I smile often, even when in pain, I also comfort people who are battling what I once faced, I very well know I’m still taking a leaf from his book.
Guess what....That leaf… saved my life.
All pictures are mine.
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