Memo of a Sickle Cell child


sickle cell

I watched as other kids ran out in the rain playing while I was not allowed to, I kept asking my mum “why couldn’t I be like the other kids?” During the rain or sunshine running around and stretching my growing legs. It felt like torture, “my parents must really hate me” I thought to myself, did they really want me or I was a mistake they regretted? But I thought children, they say are blessing from above, but this didn’t seem like it. It never did get better because it seem I had to also take the irritating, bitter pills alongside the restraints, it was supposed to keep me from the pain, they said, but what of the emotional and psychological torture and pain? What was going to help prevent that?

I grew up and it never got any better, instead it got worse, I tried defiling my parents and went to trials for sports but it was a mistake I would live to regret, because everything went okay till the evening of that day, the pain gently crept in, started from the legs up, it was excruciating, it was intense and immense. I called out for my mum who ran in, already in tears. She seemed to fear the worse and her fear was not baseless. She called for my dad on the phone who came back home in a hurry. They carried me to the hospitals and there came the needles, the needles that could not find my veins but still the doctors were determined to find one to my own detriment. They get stabbing away at my flesh, but the stabs where nothing compared to the pain I felt, for the first time I heard the word “Crisis”. Your son is having a crisis the doctor said we would have to keep him in for a while, it should not be long, and the doctor encouraged. If only he was God and he could see the future.

Seven Months after, I knew every nurse by name, all my doctors came in with encouraging words. The student doctor came in and out and I was a case study for them. My mum oh my sweet mum, she had aged over the months, hardly got enough sleep, she looked really frail I wish there was something I could do to relieve her from all the stress, my dad was not left out either, the mystery. I overheard them the night before arguing in whispers about the funds to keep me in the hospital and how his account was in red, she fired back he could do more, but he obviously was spent. Told her he had sold all they had. Yes if you are thinking it you must be right. I have been here seven months with no hope of a discharge date. The pain was a part of me now, I was numb to its effect about this time, the needles didn’t hurt as they did at the beginning and one of my legs became shorter than the other. I was suffering but the people I loved the most where suffering the most.

After reading about what I had, I called my parents to my bed side and asked, why have you made me suffer so? What did I ever do to you? Was the love so blinding that you just had to commit to a live of suffering for yourselves? For me? Did you consider this, didn’t the doctor tell you this could be a possible outcome? You have wasted my live and cause me so much pain. I hate you both. Please you both can leave while I wallow in my pain. They looked dejected, the tears rolling down their eyes. The pain they felt and how my words had broken their hearts, mine was broken too. They looked deeply at each other and I knew if they could turn back the hands of time they would have done things differently. But this was no movie, this was reality and the deed had been done, I was the living proof of that, the regrettable and avoidable proof. After a long while of the silent treatment they left me to my thoughts and my pain.

Later that night I gave in to the pain and slipped away to a place where I wouldn’t feel the pains anymore. The pain from the crisis, the pain from the needles, the pain from the decision my parents made, the pain of unfulfilled dreams. This is my pain. I am a sickle-cell patient and this was my story.

P.S Please in this time and age, making sure to know your genotype is paramount, fine there is a technology to know this early during conception but it is extremely expensive. Considering you would have to flush the child after you find out (which to me is a form of abortion). It is better to know your genotype early of all your friends and potentials and do the honest and right thing by your future kids and spouse by walking away if you must. A broken relationship is way better than a life of pain, bills and sorrow. Please remain woke and do right by your future. May God help us all……


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