Hello, guess who is back? My maternity leave has come to an end; I resumed on Monday, so I will be resuming here as well. For those who are not aware, I welcomed my baby boy on February 22, 2023, and I am grateful for that.
I will still talk more about that in my subsequent posts, but today I want to talk about my self-medication story.
I know this will not be the first time you hear about self-medication. but I must share my story so you can learn from it.
THE STORY ( Self-medication)
On May 3, 2023, I woke up as early as 5:00 a.m. My husband was on morning duty at work; he had a programme by 6:00 a.m., so he left around 5:30 a.m. while I was getting ready to pray.
I checked the mirror to see if there was any improvement with the two large boils on my face, but there was no improvement. I have been battling it for 3 days, and one thing that works for me whenever I have boils is the antibiotic ampiclox. I have been stalling its usage, but after checking if it is safe for breastfeeding, I decided to use it that morning, hoping the boil would relieve me by the end of the day.
I popped one pill of ampiclox while sitting on a sofa, finished the sachet of water in my hand, then stood to perform ablution and pray. Before I could stand, I suddenly started feeling nauseated, wondering why that was happening. Before I could even put one or two together, I puked.
I thought it was just a normal thing to feel nausea once in a while until I realized this one is not easy to stop. It was early in the morning, and I had nothing inside me, just water. You could imagine vomiting with nothing inside you.
To stop the vomit, I dashed to the kitchen; I could barely hold myself. I pored warm water from the flask and added a little lime. I gulped it down and also chewed dried ginger. Thinking maybe it is because I have not eaten, to reduce the effect, I quickly warmed my stew and picked up a left-over tuwo (a Nigerian meal) from my warmer, all the while thinking it was food.
Before I could swallow the second morsel of tuwo, I started feeling burning sensations all over my body—my neck, my head—and I was not myself. I thought I was going to die.
Sensing that I was coming down with something, I picked up the phone to call my husband, but his line was not going through. I was so scared of being unconscious with no one at home, only my baby. I just wanted to be OK so he would not wake up hungry while I would be lying down unconscious or probably dead. I looked into the mirror and noticed my eyeballs were red with visible red veins. I was really scared.
I quickly launched my Bolt app, but my hands were already shaking, and I may not be able to speak well to the driver as well. I decided to call my husband again with his second line; it went through, but he picked up the call to remind me he was on air. I called again, and that was when he sensed something might be wrong.
I said, “Bobo, I am not okay; I need to get to the hospital.” Before I could string statements together, I was growing weaker and weaker.
I rushed outside to meet our neighbors; they are northerners. I don’t speak their languages, but we’re always greeting each other, and some of them speak pidgin.
I was shouting, “Hospital, please take me to the hospital, please.” They were also getting ready for the morning prayer. They gathered around me to arrange a bike for me when I said again, “My baby, my baby, please, my baby.”
They said I should go to the hospital and that they would watch him. I said, “No.” He will wake up and be looking for me. “He will be hungry.” I said this almost in tears. At this point, I just want to be fine; I don’t want my baby to wake up to nothing. I struggled to go back inside for my baby, and boom! I found myself hitting my head against the wall; I could not see anything again.
Thanks for reading, check the part 2 here My Self-medication Story (Part 2). The End
Check my previous post HOW ARE YOU?
You can make International transactions on Ali express and other platforms without stress, use Klasha cards to solve this Klasha link