WHY ARE THE DOCTORS NOT TELLING ME WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

WHY ARE THE DOCTORS NOT TELLING ME WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

SULEIMAN NDORO JNR (DR AUDI)

It is exactly 72 hours since I was put in this bed. I miss my home. I miss my husband. I miss my kitchen. I miss my clothes. I miss everything.

I have been confined in this bed like a prisoner. I have been forced  to wear a piece of cloth that makes me feel naked. I even feel ashamed walking in this cloth. The food is something I even don’t want to recall. The feelings of nausea and inhibition are killing me slowly.

This hospital is making me sicker than how I even came. The fact that I do not know what I am suffering from makes me more ill.

I know the question that is running in your mind now. “What exactly brought this lady to the hospital?”

Three days prior to my admission, my husband had refused coming home for two days. It was really killing me and then I thought of something. What if I faked an illness? I’m sure he’l come here running.

 Well, I did it. I went to the compound pretending to be hanging clothes and I threw myself to the ground. I did it like an epileptic woman. I jerked my limbs and bit my tongue. I let saliva drool and I finished my losing my consciousness. My neighbours were shocked and they immediately called my husband as they rushed me to the hospital.

I was admitted. That day I was asked so many questions by the doctor. They injected my arms severally and put drips of water running through my veins. They even injected my back and collected some fluid. My back aches till now.

These past two days were the most boring days. Some young boys and girls with lab coats came in groups asking me questions while touching me. They come in batches and kept on asking me the same questions. I even feel like writing everything on a paper and photocopying it so that I just give the papers to them.

Their questions are making me believe that I am truly sick while I faked it in the first place. I came here when I was healthy and it’s now the opposite. The disturbing thing is that they just come and leave without even telling me what the hell is wrong with me.

The nurses keep on giving me medications to a disease that I never had in the first place. This morning, a group of almost 20 people were surrounding me. They were led by a guy they call Daktari mkubwa. They came and looked at my file while they talked words that were unfamiliar to me. The Daktari mkubwa still asked me questions, but luckily he didn’t touch me. He then left to the next patient with the whole group.

I feel like telling them that I faked it from the first day. But I’m afraid. First I’m afraid that they won’t believe me. I’m sure that even my husband won’t believe me. Secondly, I’m afraid that maybe they found a disease in samples they took from my back and blood and they aren’t telling me.

Moments after the guy left with his group, a certain lady came and whispered to me. “Ïtabidi upigwe picha ya kichwa ili tuangalie kama kuna shida. Hiyo picha inaitwa CT scan na ni elfu tano.”

I just looked at her like a zombie as I almost broke down.

FICTIONAL STORY WRITTEN BY SULEIMAN NDORO JNR (DR AUDI)

Suleiman Ndoro Jnr aka Dr Audi is a medical and motivational author and a graduate of BSC Clinical Medicine from Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture & Technology (JKUAT). He is also the Founder & CEO of Medwax Corporation Africa Ltd; a medical and healthcare group of companies based in Kenya.