Reminisce

THE family picnic is over. Greg has gone out to chill with his friends. Gem is using her laptop at the dining table. Henry and Shannel are watching a show on TV. Gavin retires to his room. 

He lay on his bed—his fingers intertwined underneath his nape, his knees forming a ninety-degree arch at the edge of the wooden bedstead. He stretches his feet on the floor. 

He reflects on the picnic that was just concluded some minutes ago. Did he overreact towards Gem? Or was his reaction normal? Frankly, he is simply tired of healthier people belittling his medical condition. SCD has cost him and his brother a lot. He had even been depressed—due to SCD—several years back. It was Granny who helped him out of that phase. Probably that was what endeared Granny to him so much. He initially used to think he had it bad, until his younger brother—Greg—endured worse than Gavin ever had. 

 *****

Gavin's first loss to SCD was his riddance off of his high school's table tennis team. He enjoyed his elementary education. He barely had a crisis when he was a child. He didn't even know about his medical condition until puberty. But it seemed as soon as puberty set in, so did the crisis. 

He had been topping the leaderboard of his school's table tennis team. His grades were also as good. Then during a tournament, he had been struck by a crisis. As a result, he had to miss some weeks of school, so he couldn't represent his team in the tournament. By the time he returned to school, he was lagging academically. He had missed some tests and practicals. He had several notes to catch up on. The academic workload was overwhelming. He couldn't make time for table tennis practice even when he tried—he was either preparing for a makeup test, copying notes, or conducting missed practicals. 

Eventually, he overhauled his academic lag. After which he resumed going to table tennis practice. Unfortunately, his prowess had dropped. He had not touched a table tennis bat for the longest. He tried to salvage his skills. He practised after hours. His coach also helped him regain his stance. 

Another tournament came, but he was not allowed to represent because his teammates insisted he needed more time to catch up, as he hadn't fully redeemed his reputation. 

Then came yet another tournament. He was away again—in the hospital. Then, the doctor had advised that overactive sports participation might be effective in initiating a crisis. He didn't consider the doctor's advice. 

On returning to school again, he was no longer in the top five of the team's leaderboard. Matter of fact, he had started living in past glory. Notwithstanding, he was back to making his grades. After weeks of focusing squarely on his academics, he returned to the table tennis team. At that point, the team had no more use for him. The coach had nicely told him off the team. 

The coach's statement resounds in his head; "Your health is at stake if you keep playing for this team. Plus, your skills have really depreciated. You've grown unfit to be a part of the school team. I'm sorry, lad. I'd recommend you find interest in something less demanding." The coach patted him on his back before leaving him distraught on the spot. 

Gavin had cried himself to sleep that night. His parents told him everything would be okay and they promised him he would develop greater interest in a better activity. Those words didn't console Gavin. He wanted table tennis. He wanted to build his interest there and in nothing else. He had mourned his removal for weeks. Later on, he admitted that was one of the prices to pay for being a sickler. He moved on. 

He became a student with no extracurricular activities. He went to classes and went back home—no training, no practice. In the meantime, he developed a crush on his classmate. He was really shy, he didn't express his feelings. But he stole glances at her every chance he got. Somehow, the girl deciphered his feelings for her and started talking to him. She went to lunch with him, sat beside him in class, and partnered with him for class projects. They became close. They started holding hands. 

One day, in their English Language class; their teacher asked them to write their addresses in the form of a letter. His crush, Tavvekka, had noticed his address and she had told him she had a friend who lived two blocks away from his house. She mentioned that she visited her friend often because they were childhood friends but didn't end up in the same secondary school. Gavin was happy to know she was familiar with his neighbourhood. 

A few weeks later, he heard a knock on the door. He was surprised because he was the only one at home and he wasn't expecting a visitor. His parents were at work, his sister had gone to a girls' hangout, and his brother was visiting a maternal cousin who lived nearby. 

He would have tagged along with Greg, except he was suffering from priapism. His parents had taken him for a checkup and the doctor prescribed some drugs for him. The doctor had said there was no need to admit him and guaranteed him relief before dusk. His parents had dropped him at home before heading for work. 

Still puzzled at who the visitor might be, he opened the door. To his greatest surprise, Tavvekka was standing at their door frame…right in front of him. 

"Tavvekka." He couldn't find words to express his awe.

"Surprise! I came to visit my childhood friend and decided to surprise you."

"That's…thoughtful. Thank you. You should have called first though."

"It's called surprise for a reason." Tavvekka shrugged. 

"You are right. But what if I wasn't home?"

"In that case, I would have eventually called you to inform you about my failed surprise." Tavvekka grinned. "Will I get an invite inside or do I deserve to continue standing here?"

"Pardon my manners. Please, come in." Gavin stepped aside. 

Tavvekka stepped into the house and hugged Gavin immediately. It was too late for Gavin to tilt away from the hug. She clung to him without heed. Tavvekka felt something poke her in her pelvis. 

Confused, she moved back to see what it could be. 

Gavin—mortified—tried to cover his erect manhood with his hands but that was similar to filling a basket with water—futile. 

"Oh my!" Tavvekka exclaimed.

"I swear it's not what you are thinking. I can explain, Tavvekka. Please, hear me out."

"Are you a pervert? I simply hugged you and you are this turgid? Do you always masturbate?"

"What? No, never. I've never attempted any of those accusations. It's a medical condition—priapism. It's an abnormal and painful erection of the penis during which sickle-shaped red blood cells block the flow of blood out of the penis. You remember my genotype is SS, right? I'm not falsifying this. You can look it up on your phone." 

"So you want to have sex with me?"

"No. Not in this state. I'm not horny. This is not excitement, it is inflammation. It hurts as it is now."

"I can't even believe any of all these. We are too young for stuff like this. I thought better of you." Tavvekka opened the door and stepped outside. 

"Tavvekka, please. Tavvekka," Gavin followed behind her. "I swear I'm not lying. Look it up online. I'm not faking it," Gavin reached for Tavvekka's hand. "Tavvekka, please."

Tavvekka snapped out of Gavin's hold. "If you touch me or chase after me, I will call everybody's attention."

"Tavvekka. Please." 

Tavvekka boarded a taxi and left. 

Gavin returned inside the house. He knew Tavvekka would never want to have anything to do with him again. If the tables were turned, he might have done the same. What teenager would believe in the existence of priapism? Even he—who was suffering the condition—didn't really understand it, he just knew he was suffering it. 

If it was possible to cry blood, he would have cried blood in place of tears that day. He wept and wailed. Questions reeled in his mind. Why did his parents create a monstrosity like his genotype? Why did sicklers have to suffer for what they didn't commit? Why did Tavvekka come on this day that he was suffering priapism? Why couldn't she have surprised him at a time when he was in his best physical state? 

Corresponding with his assumptions, Tavvekka never talked to him again. She ignored his texts and didn't pick up his calls. She moved her seat away from him in class. She wouldn't even wave at him. She cut all ties. Gavin was mortified. Though he had no cause to suspect Tavvekka mentioned that scenario to anybody, he couldn't muster the courage to relate with other girls anymore. The incident cut deep into his self-esteem. He ditched prom in his senior year. He wasn't confident enough to ask any girl to be his date, so he had missed prom altogether. 

When he resumed college, he maintained his zero extracurricular activities. He had become an adolescent and his attraction to the opposite sex had grown conspicuous. He had started bonding with a classmate who offered a couple of courses with him. She was pretty and kind. 

Gavin almost lost his mind when he found out her genotype was AS. No way in the world was he going to put himself in a position to produce a child like himself. He would never allow his future child(ren) to suffer the same torment he was born with. He swore he would never make such a mistake. He had told the classmate that they had to go their separate ways. 

In his freshman second semester, he met a second-year student Tina. She was slightly older than him but it was no bother. They were compatible, hence, things kicked off very quickly with her. He felt like he had won the lottery when he discovered she had the genotype AA. He asked her to be his girlfriend and she agreed. 

It was only a month into their relationship when Gavin came down with a brutal crisis. At the sight of his ailing body, Tina had reevaluated the relationship. She had told him that dating him would be too much work because his health would always stand in the way. She bade him farewell and never looked back. Gavin was broken yet again. He had thought he lucked out when he bagged Tina. 

The conception that he had a chance at love with only genotype AA ladies reduced his hopes drastically. He had buried himself in his academics and a part-time job during his sophomore year. 

During his penultimate year, he vibed with a lady who lived on his block. He had made it obligatory to always find out genotypes before setting emotions ablaze. It turned out she was SS, just like him. Gavin had ghosted her faster than the speed of light. 

Shortly after, he met another amazing lady in his part-time student job. She was AA—perfect. However, she did the rejection this time. She said she had a friend who suffered the same medical condition as Gavin. She had insisted she couldn't offer him the physical and emotional support he would need whenever he suffered a crisis. She said Gavin deserved more than she could offer.

That was Gavin's final straw to depression. He became depressed. He couldn't play sports. He couldn't find love. Did he walk across the surface of the earth only to study and work? He was a shadow of himself. 

When that semester ended, he visited his grandmother. He vented to her about how lonely and bored he was. He told her love was selective and it would never select people like him. 

His granny carefully listened to him. When he finished yapping, she told him he didn't create himself. She told him nobody—whether healthy or unhealthy—would leave the world alive. She said, "Your life is whatever you make of it. If you tag yourself as pathetic, people will treat you as such. You need to love yourself before anybody can love you. No one will love you romantically if you don't love yourself first. Love doesn't select, but love only locates those who possess self-love. How about you love yourself while anticipating romantic love? Live and love—you have to live before you love, not the other way around—because everybody dies but not everybody lives."

The way water soothes a dehydrated throat, her counsel soothed his soul. He had gone to bed that night reflecting on what Granny said. He had to strip himself of the self-pity attire in which he had entangled himself. He decided he would do that. 

He enjoyed the rest of his stay. She had asked him to come with her to her medical checkup. When she was finished with her doctor, she took Gavin to the physiotherapy centre. She showed him disabled and crippled people who were accompanied by their lovers, despite their conditions. 

She said to him; "Don't think these people are better than you. They waited their turns and love found them. But they didn't simply wait, they prepared for its arrival. So should you."

That lesson corked the knowledge he collected during that visit. Granny helped him eradicate self-abasement. His confidence skyrocketed and so did his happiness. 

It was some years later, after he finished college, that he met Naomi. He had gone to play paintball with his friends. She had also come to play paintball with her friends. His friends were guys, her friends were ladies. The paintball instructor had urged the two teams of the opposite sex to play against themselves to maximize fun. Naomi and Gavin had been the first two to be hit by paint, so they were dropped from the game. While their other friends carried on with the game, the duo had chattered away. 

 *****

Five years later, Naomi has loved him progressively. She is AA. She is more than he'd ever ask of a woman. He is grateful that the genotype AA ladies he had met before Naomi didn't want him. He believes if any of them had wanted him, he might not have been opportune to hook Naomi. Naomi tolerates his plight like it's hers. 

Her family members had tried to poison her mind against loving him. They had told her his medical condition warrants a short lifespan and that she would end up a young widow. They said she would spend the bulk of her marriage to him in a hospital. They had pitched every atrocious statement they could think of. Sincerely, they had nothing against Gavin; they just believed she deserved a healthier man. In contrast, she promised them that she would not retreat, nor change her decision about him. She had sworn she didn't need their support. At first, they thought she was bluffing. But later on, when they realised she would truly not back down, they reluctantly tendered their support. 

Granny had been the happiest about Naomi's inclusivity in Gavin's life. She was glad she raised her grandson to be a deserving man. A deserving man who's also appreciative. She was proud of him. 

As for Greg, he wasn't one to bother much about something or anything—unlike Gavin. He was nonchalant and debonair. He loved playing football but his health hindered his active participation as well. Fortunately, Greg had found solace in video games. He invested his free time in video games and never had to feel so detached from field football. 

Greg is the most brilliant in the family. Despite losing several weeks of school to crisis, he still managed to top his class throughout high school. How he did that, nobody understood. He never missed out on his video games but they never affected his school performance. His social life was also bustling. Greg could extract a degree from versatility if it was possible. When Greg resumed college, he still led his class. From freshman year—through sophomore year—through the penultimate session. 

Suddenly, a fatal crisis knocked him over. He could not attend a single class in his final year. He was admitted to the hospital throughout the entire academic session. He received multiple pints of blood. His bones had gone weak. The doctor had said something about his bone marrow losing its potency in producing blood cells. 

Gavin had been too perplexed to listen to the doctor, or to even comprehend his explanation. He already had to forcefully understand plenty of Sickle Cell Disease conditions against his own interes

t. Still, it seemed that there were so many conditions under SCD that he couldn't know or understand them all, even if he tried. He was no longer interested in understanding them. He could only imagine the pain his younger brother was feeling. 

Greg was paralysed for months. Afterwards, his legs gradually recovered with the aid of physiotherapy but they were wobbly for a while. He needed a walking stick to aid his movement. Despite the walking stick, Greg still limped. 

It was a dark time for the whole family. Greg simultaneously spent almost a full year in the hospital. He was still admitted to the hospital when he saw the graduation pictures of his classmates on the internet. Greg had flung his phone against the wall. 

He wailed. He lamented. "How is it possible that I am the smartest in my class but I still merited an extra session? I'm supposed to be wearing a graduation gown right now! Why am I in this hospital rag? I hate my life! I hate that I was born. I hate being alive. I hate it here. I want to die."

"Greg, don't say such. You are hurting yourself." Gavin had consoled. 

"My health is hurting me," Greg sniffed mucus into his nose. "My health is damaging me, ruining my life! My medical condition is synonymous with death!" He had sobbed. 

Nobody could console Greg. That was the first time he was really bothered about something. They all felt sympathetic towards him. They couldn't withhold their tears. Gavin tagged that day as the second saddest day ever for their family, the day of Granny's death being the foremost.

A month later, Greg had been discharged. He was back home. But he still had appointments with his physiotherapist. His college was still on summer holiday. Greg spent the holiday improving his motility without any aid. 

When it was time to resume his deferred final session, Greg had felt embarrassed for the first time ever. He had said he couldn't imagine the questioning looks on people's faces when they realised the smartest student in the previous set had an extra session. 

The family had urged him to look on the brighter side. It was relieving that he didn't have an extra session due to failure, compared to some other students. Greg had accepted their perception and braced up. 

It was not until the second semester commenced that Greg retained his certitude. At the end of the session, he still earned the best-graduating student in his class. 

Greg and Gavin have surmounted several challenges. Yet, they meet non-SS people who tell them being a sickler doesn't affect one's life order. Gavin considers that a felony. Why would a sane person judge a situation they don't understand? Demean a condition they've never experienced? He considers such people bizarre. 

He adjusts on his bed. His legs are now on the mattress. He shudders his pillow between his arm and his neck. He sleeps.