Back from the dead…

Hmmmn. So, I've been away for a while. Thanks to a couple of unprecedented issues. The 4^th of April was my birthday; imagine all the possibilities of grooving that day (cakes and drinks happened at the office and I had visions of %'s after work; plus 'Kiki was supposed to sleep over for the first time; Oh! 'Kiki.), 'cos it was a Friday after a hectic week. Nah, I didn't groove. Came down with some bad ass cold, which turned into stress induced/laden fever. I struggled through it, and like an average Nigerian, went and got some pills from some Chemist dude to help battle the cold. By Sunday evening, I was just a few bicycle lapses away from death (according to the doctor).

So, with dying a big option; my big sister dragged me by the ears to the General Hospital Emergency Section on Sunday evening {Oh, yes…I found out big sisters are allowed to do that}. 8.30 pm and business was booming. The patients' wards were full and the corridors had to be utilized too. Please, understand this: it was the emergency section of Lagos Island General Hospital and I was scared shitless {so much blood, drips, catheters and some kain other contraptions everywhere}. For every second that passed, the idea, the presence and the VERY essence of 'God' just kept crossing my mind. I can't go into the details so I don't mess with some people's senses.

Ironically, while I was waiting for the Doctor to 'sort' me out, and thinking very hard about all the distractions in life and how important doctors are; I heard the very familiar tune from the television show: Who wants to be a millionaire. The sound was coming from a patients' ward upstairs, and it was coupled with the 'oohs' and 'aahs' that follow guesses and near misses of both contestants and viewers. Na wa o, I thought, well, as far as there is life…there is definitely hope. The doctor finally made it over to me and when I tried explaining my condition to him, he burst out laughing {I guess I was using too much blogger lingo}. He was sure I had to be admitted but the nurses couldn't find a bed for me. "Well, you'll have to take this injection and buy this drugs, ehn, pallie…and promise me you'll live. Haba! You are young nah". That is exactly how he put it. My sister was not pleased with that kinda talk but I could relate. I took my injections, bought the drugs from the pharmacy and I lived.

 

NB. Been working on a couple of stories that I could publish here. A friend saw them and thinks I can blow them into full blown movies. I'm still thinking. I have been silently involved on an interview/entertainment event thing with some of my friends. The maiden edition has been published and they interviewed Denrele Edun. You all know that woman-ish/girl-ish guy on teevee. Here's the link. http://www.werunthings.com