Home - At last
Preparations
I got up this morning with the expectation that all arrangements would be made for me to definitely leave the hospital earlier than 14:00hrs.
Indeed, it is quite an involved task of passing my prescriptions down to my local chemist who have to source rare or expensive drugs or ration the drugs so they can go round for eventualities beyond the unexpected.
The issue of home help became fraught when I was told the price to pay depended on one’s income, I have not declared an income since April and after my holiday in May, shingles in June/July, the beginnings of this in August through to now, I would have been off the market for just under 6 months without registering as unemployed.
Other plans
I had put some property on the market to generate finance for a 6-week course in India as well as meet the incidentals, it would appear there is need for more aggressive selling and some market favours – looking around solves few problems w=one has to look up to have this whole thing sorted out.
Meanwhile, a daily nurse was arranged to tend my feet and it is possible that one can get a nurse in another city to tend to me when I go away to recuperate elsewhere.
The food trolley girls tried to frustrate us with the requirement that we fill in the dinner menu, I thought it was that one last hold they had on us to torture us the memories of expectorate un-delicacies.
Go!
Finally, at just after 11:00 I was told I could leave at any time, which was difficult to sort out because I had bags of stuff, 4 in all, but the nurses helped get me to the taxi rank where I caught a taxi home.
Before I left, I had one last look at the bed that had been my unexpected, uninvited, sudden world for 18 days and I cried about how my freedom could so easily be taken away, how my vulnerability could be so exposed, how one could be at the mercy of strangers in a positions that demand lots of kindness, compassion and care.
How a normally very independent man can leave his home without expectation of being bedded for that long can only be summed up in the phrase – That is life.
I also lifted my hands to thank God that my ordeal was over before I said good bye the patient the 3 of us occupants left behind – the 84 year old lady.
As I met with the exit coordinator I walked by our friend who calls out for the nurses with whom I shared a room for the first week, I said hello to him and said a little prayer as I touched him.
Home
In the end, I was home before 12:30 and honestly, I have never felt so exhausted. The SMS text messages to my many friends read: “Hello Friends, By the grace of God, the help of doctors & nurses and medicines. I am back home. Thank you for your visits, support & love. Akin”
I then went the chemist to collect my drugs and the preparation took about 30 minutes, when I eliminated 2 of the drugs I did not need, I found duplicates of other drugs that I already have – those can level out over time.
The two most important drugs run into thousands of Euros, I was too weak to swoon, but I simply said, they’ll get paid, the just shall live by faith.
Thin
I did a bit of shopping that took some strength out of me, but my hosts from next week have arranged to do my main shopping and bring some food.
My belt needs an extra tightening hole, my trousers can hardly stay up, I have to roll the hip over to keep them from dropping straight down, my weight is less than what I weighed 28 years ago and that was 65kg from a regular 80 or so kilograms.
But the road to full recovery has begun and with God’s help, mercy and love, it will be ridden to its fullness that my youth will be renewed like the eagle’s.
Ope mi koi to – is the best phrase in Yoruba I can use to thank all those who supported me in prayer, visits, blog comments, phone calls, food, presents, cards, flowers, comforts, smiles and many other ways so significant to me. It means my gratitude has hardly been fully expressed, it goes on to say, I would always be thankful.
Thank you for your love and wishes, may you all be lifted up to good things beyond your wildest expectations. God bless you all.
Thank God! I am home.
Find below links to my hospital blogs in descending order.
A life of cytostatic ostracism
A relocation from the cacophony
The looming abyss of a deep biopsy
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