Surgery(would not recommend)

My heart was pounding so fast that I feared it would burst out of my chest in a spray of blood.

The anesthesia flowing into my bloodstream through the I.V bag propped up on a stand next to the bed I was laying on was used to make me drift off into a brief, painless sleep, yet I was wide awake; I wasn't even remotely drowsy.

Without warning, the scalpel cut into my skin and I screamed so loudly that I was sure the people in the waiting room could hear me. Tears spilled out of my eyes as I prayed fervently for the stupid anesthesia to put me out of my misery.

I had never felt such agony in all my years of living.

It threatened to overwhelm me completely.

Again, the scalpel tore into my sensitive skin and my vision went white; I blacked out.

.

.

"Daddy, I think something went wrong with my injections," I said with panic in my voice as I pulled my leggings down enough to show him the upper part of my left butt cheek which was swollen, warm to my touch, and an angry red color. 

"It hurts when I touch it and when I mistakenly brush my butt against any surface, a searing pain blooms from there, spreading all through my body. Daddy, I'm scared. It hurts so bad." My voice quivered as I tried fighting back tears.

"How did this happen, my dear? Didn't you apply ice and kerosene on the spot after receiving your doses?" He asked, putting on his glasses to better examine the area. Looking at him, I realized he was troubled but trying to hide it so as not to increase my anxiety.

"I applied both of them for three whole days. Nothing is wrong with my right buttock. It's just this left one," I said.

"Do not worry, go and meet your mother when she returns from her shop. She will help you to massage it with more ice and kerosene. You'll be fine."

He tried reassuring me but I wasn't sated. I had already researched my symptoms on Google before coming to meet him and it did nothing to ease my fears.

All the treatment plans involved surgery and the healing process post-surgery seemed so scary and agonizing to me.

My mom arrived and I wasted no time shoving my butt in her face.

"The blood of Jesus!" She exclaimed.

"What has that useless doctor done to my precious daughter?" She took my hand and led me to the parlor.

"Cheta didn't I tell you to take this girl to the hospital but you decided to take her to that useless man. Now, just look at her. Look at her!" She raged.

Irritation was profound on my father's face.

"It is not his fault. These swellings happen all the time. I will take her back to him and he will find a way to puncture the swelling and drain it out. Stop making a ruckus."

He raised his voice at the last statement.

The next day, we arrived at Doctor David's house.

I experienced a stabbing pain as he tried putting pressure on the hard, swollen lump.

I clutched my dad's shirt and cried into his shoulder as he patted my back telling me to be strong.

It felt as if my skin was being torn open with a very sharp knife.

His "treatment" did nothing to the lump. It was still as hard and excruciating as before.

When my father saw that it wasn't getting any better, he finally paid heed to my mother's persuasions and took me to the hospital to meet our family doctor.

And I was scheduled for surgery to remove the abscess.

.

.

I jolted awake and my sudden movement caused a stabbing sensation to spread throughout my body.

I noticed a bit of plaster sticking out the hem of my trousers; pulling it down, I saw a thick bandage held in place by several large sticky plasters.

Looking around, my gaze fell upon the only chair in the room where my mom sat sleeping. The table in front of her was loaded with a stainless food flask, two water bottles filled to the brim with water, a bottle of Lucozade boost, and a pack of glucose.

Staring at the water reminded me how thirsty I was, so I tried calling out to my mom but my throat felt scratchy at first as a result of my previous screaming sessions.

Memories of the white-hot pain flashed through my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Willing for those memories to be lost in my subconscious.

I finally managed to speak past the scratchy sensation in my throat.

"Mommy, I want water, please."

Luckily for me, she was a very light sleeper and immediately awoke at the sound of my weak voice and bolted from her seat and threw her arms around me.

I leaned into the warm comfort of her embrace and indulged in her motherly scent of Carrots and citrus zest perfume.

She let go of me and retrieved one of the water bottles from the table and put it to my lips.

I greedily halved the amount of water in the bottle and leaned back, satisfied.

"Why isn't daddy here?" I asked.

"Your father went to get you food. Don't worry, he'll be back soon. I know you must be starving. Oh, my sweet angel."

She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair and I closed my eyes and enjoyed the familiar comfort of being with my mother.

My father returned with food- Fried rice with a very large cut of chicken breast.

"I know you love chicken so eat to your heart's content. It is well," He encouraged me.

I felt a sense of calm knowing that the two people who loved me unconditionally were right by my side.

Our family doctor, a tall, huge but kindly looking man came in to discharge me as I didn't need to stay in the hospital for much longer since it wasn't a complicated surgery.

I had to keep coming back every two days to change the wound dressing.

It was a long and kind of embarrassing road to recovery as my mother had to start bathing me as if I was six years old all over again. Although I understood that she was doing it out of love and to help me avoid pouring water on my bandages, it didn't make me feel any less mortified.

Narrating the whole ordeal to my friends was another level of mortification as they felt sorry for me to the extent of bringing doughnuts from my favorite bakery and my favorite drink: Pepsi; but they laughed so hard when I informed them of the part where my mother bathed me.

"Chai, baby Chisom. They're still bathing you. Big girl on social media but a baby in reality!" Emmanuel mocked as Mariam guffawed.

I laughed along as it was pretty funny and I know he meant nothing bad.

"Your boyfriend did not send you any good wishes or anything?" Emmanuel asked about Tobi.

"I didn't even tell him about this even though we've been chatting every single day. I'll tell him after I've healed up.

The nurse that changes my dressings said I would be all healed up at least by the first week of October."

"Hmm. You know what you're doing. Continue. But wait, how was your first wound dressing session like?" He enquired.

"Guy, it was almost as painful as the surgery itself. Especially the part where she had to peel the plaster off and remove the cotton wool from the wound. Thank God the subsequent dressing wasn't as bad. And now, there's no pain at all."

That was the part I was most excited about. The pain just finally being

gone.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that because of medical negligence," Said Mariam. Her eyes shone with sincerity.

She hugged me and pulled Emmanuel into the hug.

Though he wasn't a big fan of hugs, he sucked it up for me and I realized how truly blessed I was to be surrounded by wonderful people.

I became sad when I understood that they would soon leave for school in a few days but I pushed that aside and resolved to enjoy the time I had left to spend with them.