Nostalgia can be beautiful and can also shave off many years, but that’s all it can do. Make you reminisce about beautiful memory from the past, but what about right now? As I am listening the song playing right now, it is a song that played over and over again on television when I was growing up. My parents were warm and gentle and the music video showed what I imagined their old age will be. At first this memory is cute, but after listening to it twelve good times I have had more than enough. I will probably not want to hear the song for another twelve years. Well it is a song that churns up buried memories of that skinny naïve tiny little me, I imagined how grown beautiful me will be in my late thirties. Good old memories of me and my two little children running round and sound me until they fall out of balance like I used to do. I picture it all, until I feel an intense pain digging into the cuticles of my fingernails. It overwhelms me and I start to curse in clear English and as the pain intensifies, I move to undiluted clean Yoruba language. I am speed talking now and chanting, yes chanting. Or should I just say reciting a painful ode to myself fast, I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. All I wanted was to be free of the pain and do you know what the most devastating part of today is?
The doctor has just sucked out pus from one out of eight of my fingers.
I can’t believe I have any ounce of anesthesia inside my body, it feels like she is injecting the middle of my brain. Now she drops the injection needle and picks up tiny saws and I fight hard to stop her from doing her work…. And then I wake up from this horrible nightmare.
The hospital bed is cold and making annoying creaking sounds, I move my hands to my face and check that all my fingers are intact. It was a relief to see them without pus and complete. I kiss them and realized I was not alone, I turn slowly to Ajoke shaking her head.
‘How powerful are the medications you gave her?’
The doctor joined Ajoke and I sit up and move away afraid of the doctors intensions, I stare hard at the doctors hand. And refuse to cooperate until I am sure of what is in the doctors hand. She waves it and reassures me that it is just a thermometer.
‘I just want to see if your fever is down'
I relax and let the doctor do her job and as she declared me well enough to go home, I jump up.
‘Oyaya let’s go', I say and then rush to the door.
Realizing I didn’t thank her, I reluctantly do.
‘Thank you doctor'
‘You do not visit the hospital often'
‘Not at all, I only do if I have to….’
Ajoke apologizes to her friend and I escape, I don’t stop until I am close to the garden. Why do hospitals have gardens? The clash of the plants and rain drops on dry dusty floor, makes me move a napkin to my nose. .Y allergies are acting up and I do not see my bag any where.
Ajoke hands me my bag and I open it and take my antihistamines, fresh grass are sliced with a small lawnmower and the gardener smiled at me. I did not smile back, he was making me worse.
‘Ade, let’s get into the car before you peel off the skin above your elbow'
I stare at my fingernails scratching at my now red skin and follow her to her car, Lord knows I didn’t even know I was scratching my body.
I am glad she didn’t drive me to her house, I wanted to go home and sleep and as we got to my house… Nnoye helps me out of the car, honestly I did not even know she was here. My eyes shut and my limbs wobble and I can’t wait to hit my pillow.
I wake up smiling and stretch and curl backwards into my beautiful bed, the pillows smell like a garden and the room has fresh cool breeze blowing into it. This weather is a mixture of goodness and happiness, all in one. This Lagos is my home and yes there are good days but I tell you, a good night’s rest always renews all the cell’s in your body. Nnoye hands me a fresh glass of unsweetened yogurt and I whispered thank you and Ajoke, freshly sliced cucumbers.
Good friends do know how to take care of you when you are down, I’m definitely keeping all mine.
Today is a good day…..
**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 68**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 68, COPYRIGHT 2018*
**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2018**
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