18 Years of Adventure

Today, 18 years ago, I got married. An adventure it has been, albeit a full package of joy, laughter, celebratory events, challenging moments and doubt, but I can confidently say never a regret.

An adventure is “an exciting, unusual or bold experience that pushes you out of your comfort zone.” Often, people meticulously plan and prepare to the best of their abilities before undertaking an adventure. People set aside resources, draw up an itinerary, conduct research, and prepare their minds to discover what will unfold as they undertake the journey. An adventure evokes feelings of excitement, anxiety, fear, uncertainty… and yet joy and a deep sense of empowerment at the end. Marriage is an adventure that doesn’t necessarily follow the norm.

The anticipation phase of marriage is like most adventures for many people (I assume)—butterflies, excitement of leaving your comfort zone (independence or singlehood), and curiosity. Yet, unlike most adventures, people do not plan to come back to their present state. It’s like preparing to go live the rest of your life in the Amazon forest, rather than visiting for tourism. That feeling of forever can be deeply scary or deeply exciting depending on how you view your forever.

Then comes the experience phase—excitement, bliss, happiness, joy, and discovery, mixed with uncertainty, physical and emotional hurdles, and sometimes regret. In the thick of the Amazon rainforest, visitors are awestruck by the scenery and unadulterated nature, but common sense will ask them to be cautious of the thousands of wild beasts, reptiles, and amphibians that live in that ecosystem. People decide to keep going and focus on the exciting aspects, give up and ask for an airlift back, retrace their steps back to their comfort zones or give in and be complacent based on resilience and tolerance thresholds, life goals, and personal values. All these individuals share a common experience: there is a shift in what they knew as their comfort zone, unlike in the case of a physical adventure. Once you leave that space and get married, your original comfort zone shifts. I can do a deep dive on this topic in another post.

The final stage of the adventure, if completed, comes with amazement, a sense of achievement, and personal benefits. In marriage, this phase combines with the experience phase as each individual sets milestones for reflection and stock-taking – for most, it comes every anniversary, after events such as the birth of a child or realization of a family project. Other critical reflective moments come spontaneously after major disagreements and fights, disappointments, persistent disrespect, abandonment, etc.

I’ve been on this adventure for 18 years, and I believe that, by virtue of longevity, I have earned the right to tell every woman, no matter how far along you are and what your experience is – B R E A T H E. If you can perform this simple unconscious exercise of inhaling and exhaling, know you can make it… proceeding on the adventure, being airlifted back or retracing your steps. Remember, you are on that journey for yourself first. Your partner is there to keep you company on the right path (not misdirect you), pull you up when you are drowning (not hold your head under water), protect you against predators (not use you as a shield) and hold your hand when you are too weary to go on (not leave you behind).

My 2025 Birthday

As I sit here towards the end of the day of my birthday, reflecting on how beautifully unique this day has been, I remember that I promised to share my blog with more people today.

Am I ready for that move? Absolutely not! But is there ever … Will there ever be … a time when the chips are all in place for a big launch? I doubt it. The human mind doesn’t allow satiety, lest it be branded lazy, mediocre, and the like.

Where do I start? First, I'll tell you about my day, which started before 4 am. The heat was awful, and the electricity kept going out, so I couldn't sleep much. I picked up my phone and saw a long message that started with 'Happy birthday’—my first birthday wish. But the message swiftly devolved into an anticlimactic account of what the sender believed I had done to hurt them. I decided to respond and clear the mess before the crack of dawn because I intended to have a joyful day. That I did! Couldn’t sleep; I tossed and turned, thinking about the memories I have helped create for others.

6:25 am, I was in the car to the office—a pinkish red dress never worn to work before, black stilettos because why not, and maroon lipstick. It was a busy day in the office, and then I received a call—someone was at the gate for me. My friend, who is the twin sister of another friend, had arrived with beautiful red roses in one hand and a cute little cup that reads, ‘You’re my lobster.' Sure, the phrase is a reference from the series 'Friends,' which I never watched because it was too popular for my liking. Pictures, pictures… WhatsApp and back to work. Ooohhhh! But hold on… those roses are to die for.

Then walks in my friend and colleague. She had ordered a bucket of chicken from a Chinese fast-food joint, which we picked up at the gate, and I saved it for later. Of course, today is the last day of my dawn-to-dusk fasting (starving, according to my young friend, side note, she won't make heaven), and I must hit the finish line.

Now let me back track… I did something monumental today. I took a leap of faith and sent an email that could change the course of my 9-to-5 life. I won't reveal the specifics right now, but I firmly believe that I was obeying God's instruction, and I am certain that I will be writing a testimony about it soon. 

Back home, I enjoyed the chicken while reverting to the thoughts I had in the wee hours of the morning. It's easy to think about what others have done for you, but it's also good to reflect on how you've affected their lives. I forgot to mention that I posted a rare update on my WhatsApp status at 3 am. Simple message—'Typical April Day. Empty bank account but extremely grateful and happy.' The truth of this statement hinges on the specific bank account in question. I’m sure I have mentioned in a previous post the correlation between my birth month and the amount of disposable money I have left by my birthday. This year is no exception, but the money was used for a good cause, including giving someone a once-in-a-lifetime experience of travelling abroad to visit a sibling. I thought of the times I have stood in the gap between people and new life experiences, whether it be paying for travel, education, coaching for job interviews, or even just seeing another perspective that changed their way of thinking. Those accomplishments made me smile. Who am I? What’s my purpose in life? I wonder.

As this day draws to a close, I am grateful for all the kind messages and gifts of love that I received—from family, friends, and acquaintances. I am grateful for the opportunity to serve others in many ways. I can’t express enough gratitude for divine providence that provides and provides and provides, enabling me to give and give some more. I have a deep appreciation for the person I am, the family I am constructing, the life I live, and the people who surround me; however, my greatest love is for God.

 

Age or Maturity… or a Combo

These past couple of days my mind has been reeling the film of memories of my ageing… maturity journey. It’s a little confusing to me, it’s not a perfect graph and the pencil is still in action, drawing strokes, sometimes discontinuous. There are gaps in my memory because my brain compartmentalizes a lot, and there is a recycle compartment as well as ‘permanently deleted’ section. I used to be that student who forgets the names of their mates during the 2.5 months of summer break, and it has gotten worse with age. But I digressed, let me stick to this ageing/maturity dichotomy.

I loved my twenties… the freedom, the growth, the new experiences and a lot of first times. The first part of that decade for me was very memorable. I graduated from university, engaged in service learning and volunteering for random things like typing out the manuscript of someone’s memoir and establishing administrative documents and procedures for a catholic secondary school, had a couple of temporal jobs and then got a full-time employment. On the growth side, I had a major heartbreak, and even as significant as this seemed, I’ll not indulge it any further. My late twenties was a time of making and building friendships, meaningful, respectful and lasting relationships. It was the craziest period of my life because I was experiencing life from different, sometimes conflicting angles at the same time – being the incarnate professional; exploring almost all the cabarets and nightclubs in Yaounde, Douala and Limbe; holding firm to my faith and being religious somewhat; bought two cars in the same year even before obtaining a driver’s license (please do not ask me what happened to the other car if you remember seeing me with just one car. That memory has been recycled); met and fell in love with someone I knew little about and then eventually we got married. My job permitted me to travel and meet so many great minds, as well as develop my skills in many aspects and eventually started training others in leadership and communication… oh did I mention I relocated and took up a job in another country that involved even more travel?

My thirties started with pregnancy, then the most awesome gift I have ever received… my son was born. That to me is the single most important blessing. I had a new job and then the rest of my early thirties is a little blurry. My mid to late thirties were the most materially blessed years. We (my spouse and I) built a house, a home that had almost all the specs of my dream house given the environment and circumstances. This period also allowed me to gain new insights into Christianity and really start to define myself within the Christendom. I also reinstated my younger cousin who had been carried away by the wiles of life and she eventually had her A/Levels and a professional certificate; and then I had myomectomy and laparoscopy. I also had a lot of growth opportunities and reflections into self. In my mid-thirties, I wondered a lot why I couldn’t bring myself to say the things I really wanted to say (I might have mentioned this in a previous blog article). I stayed a lot in my head space, and it fatigued me because I was always hesitating to express myself. Sometimes I lied to myself that I don’t want to hurt the other person, but then subjected myself to psychological torture because I knew I should have said something but didn’t. In my last one year or so of the decade, I became more expressive and continued to develop that skill. Furthermore, I became more in touch with some expertise I had like being able to negotiate a truce between people without getting emotionally invested or causing more frustration on the part of the concerned. People also saw in me a confidant and very rational individual. But in some areas, I felt I wasn’t trusted by some people who really mattered to me and sometimes had to deal with prolonged months of passive hostility aka angered silence, with no idea of what I could have done wrong. This brought me to a space of deeper understanding, where I learned to focus on what I can control and not worry about what I can’t.

In my forties (Yes, I am in that decade already, have been in for a minute now but can speak to it), I continue to grow in areas I can control – my response to situations, my use of words trying hard to be understood (for I believe a word comes alive when it’s said), asking for forgiveness even when I think I should be at the receiving end. I seek to stay on target – happiness - and peace brings happiness. To me forgiveness has to be complete with the ‘forget’… not in erasing memories but in not revisiting that ‘story’ in a spiteful way. That seems hard, and I don’t successfully implement that sometimes. Another interesting aspect is that forgiveness benefits more the seeker than it does the recipient. Misunderstandings are common and most times everyone thinks they are right – and they may be, based on the angle from which they are analyzing. I isolate my responsibility in enabling a situation, name it (if it’s clear to me) and ask for forgiveness. Whether it is well received, or whether that means the entire blame is placed on me, or again whether my forgiveness request is seen as admission of guilt, is really not my concern. I am more concerned with liberating myself by asking for forgiveness and making sure that I’m heard. It is hard at times but gets easier with time. This pulls every thread of humility from my spine- sometimes it actually leaves me feeling lame and incapacitated but trust me I get over the issue faster than I would have the effects of an unresolved situation.

What I love most about entering this new decade is choice – now I don’t feel constricted in expressing myself, I feel like I have a choice to express myself anyway I want. I maintain a very high level of decorum when talking, but I say what I want to say and I’m not apologetic for my thoughts. This feeling of having a choice to how much restrain I want to muster has helped me most in my professional life where sometimes we are confronted with situations where the truth makes a lot of people uncomfortable but there are huge consequences to concealing the truth – so finding the balance in a way that brings people to understand, even though they are uncomfortable with what you are saying. People who thought I was assertive in my twenties ought to see me now, hahahaha. Finally, I choose my battles carefully, being guided by the potential impact of engaging in a battle, considerations of what I can control and the emotional space I’m in at that time.

I am looking forward to healthier and meaningful relationships, being understood and being forgiven. I am even more focused on having a happier life, with a lot of selfcare and looking great according to my standards (I have recently cut my hair and some people think this is counter great looks, but I said MY standards). I have a lot of love, care and joy elements to give and also giving underprivileged people the opportunity to develop their skills/education. God bless you and thank you for not judging me based on this write-up (although sincerely it really doesn’t matter to me whether you do). My desire is that this inspires you to reflect and see how much you have matured as you are aging and make amends that are God-approved and bring you shalom peace and happiness.

Myomectomy – My Experience, The Decision

I knew I had fibroids in April 2010, when I was about 14 weeks pregnant. During my first ante-natal visit, I was subjected a physical exam (which at that time I thought was very invasive, naively, not knowing there were even more invasive tests that I will have to endure as pregnancy progressed and just for being a woman) and a scan, the Ob-Gyn told me lightly that I shouldn’t worry about the fibroids because they were small and out of my uterus. He was surprised to learn I wasn’t even aware I had fibroids, because he thought I would have had signs prior to being pregnant. All the OB-Gyns I met as my pregnancy progressed in Kenya, Cameroon and US assured me the fibroids will not interfere with my pregnancy or birthing. 

Fast forward two years after I had my baby I went in for another check. I was informed there are still two fibroids but they were positioned in a way that I couldn’t conceive and even if I did I’ll lose the baby. The OB-Gyn and Lab Tech were both surprised when I told them I had a baby with those same two fibroids. Subsequently over the next couple of years I saw a few more Gynecologists who gave me conflicting information about the position of the fibroids and their effect on conception. However they all agreed on the number of fibroids and the need for surgery, which I wasn’t considering at that time.

In May 2018, someone gave me the contact to an Ob-Gyn in Yaounde, Cameroon. I went in for a check and he strongly suggested surgery after a series of tests and consultations. He took time to explain the pros and cons to me and why it was his professional suggestion for surgery. I did a lot of research and had a list of questions (refer to the next article) ready for him. He was more convincing than the others, and after talking with a few other gynecologists, I decided to go for myomectomy and laparoscopy. The moment I made this decision, I felt a kind of peace, shalom peace, and I knew I was making the right decision.

Myomectomy – My Experience, Questions for the Surgeon or Ob-Gyn

The moment the decision is made, continue with research and note all the questions you have for the Physician. I learned that no question was irrelevant, so go all in. Below is a list of the questions I prepared for my second to last Dr’s visit (and you want to give yourself the opportunity to follow-up with more questions, so do not wait with this until the last visit before the surgery). Also, ask open ended questions so that through the responses you can get clarity on other things that you hadn’t thought of before.

Questions about the Surgery

1.     How will the surgery be performed? Here you want to get all the details of the procedures and agree on options, e.g. for anesthesia type.
2.     What could cause me to need blood transfusion?
3.     What are some of the unexpected things that can happen during the surgery? What are the chances of those happening?
4.     What are the dispositions in place in case there are unforeseen during the operation?
5.     How long will the surgery take?
6.     What should I expect immediately after the surgery and the weeks after? How is the healing process going to look like physically and emotionally?
7.     What types of post-op complications could I experience?

Questions about the surgery space and people

1.     How many times have you conducted this operation? And how often?
2.     Share some of the remarkable experiences you have had, both positive and negative
3.     Who else will be in the room?
4.     What are the types of post-op rooms available at the facility? Cost? Care?
5.     What do I need to prepare in advance, or take along with me (food, test results, medical history file, etc.)?
6.     What does the facility offer (in the rooms, cleaning services, catering, etc.)
7.     What is the schedule for the post-ops visits?

Myomectomy – My Experience, The Build-Up

Typically you will be required to do a series of blood tests a few days prior to surgery. I did mine a week before and the results were ready two days later.

Here is the sequence of events for me.

4 days before surgery - July 2, 2018

Final pre-ops visit to Dr with blood test results. Everything was fine but Dr suggested I get blood from the blood bank a day before the operation.

Caveat: African blood banks are mostly in need of blood so do not expect to just go ‘pay’ for blood stored there. I didn’t know at that time, but I lived through that experience of ignorance, so you won’t.

It was during this visit that I got all the information I needed for where the operation will take place and payment modalities.

So typical of me, this is when I decided to inform the rest of people who needed to know. The only person who had knowledge of the plans prior to this date was my hubby, of course. After the Dr’s visit, I informed my two best friends from office and a very close work collaborator – just told them of the surgery but not the date. Then I messaged my older brothers and sisters. The responses from my family were varied: brothers were fine with my decision, one sister asked for details and said she might need a surgery as well (she still hasn’t gone under so I guess she didn’t need it after all). My eldest sister was apprehensive which I found surprising because she’s a nurse and has undergone same - or maybe it’s for those same reasons that she pleaded with me to revisit my decision, see other gynecologists, seek God’s opinion again…etc.. I also informed one of my besties in Uganda who had gone through the same and she had some very useful insights for me

Then I finalize the list of all the things I had to do before like stocking the house with food, getting my medical records together, work tasks that I had to complete, packing list for the hospital, etc.

2 days before surgery - July 3
Visited the hospital where the surgery will take place for the first time to check out rooms and to pay for blood. Do not wait this long, go check out the hospital immediately you know so you will be better prepared than I was. I was so surprised when I was informed the blood bank was empty and I needed to bring 4 people to donate blood (I needed to have 2 pints of blood and each donor usually gives half a pint). I was ready to pay any amount of money but unfortunately bringing my own donors was the only way. Now I was in a dilemma because I hadn’t informed the people I had talked with that the surgery was this soon, so where do I get four blood donors in such a short time… with matching blood group A+.
when I left the hospital and was driving back to the office, I prayed to the Holy Spirit and told Him that if He doesn’t provide 4 donors, then I’ll know He disapproves of the surgery. As I was taking the bend to the office parking lot, I saw my work collaborator mentioned above with her fiancé. I stopped and asked the fiancé’s blood group. “A+”, he responded”. And then it gets better, he is a certified blood donor and will happily indulge me. My work collaborator too offered to donate if she was a match.
when I got into the office, I went to one of my two office besties – she informed me she is A+ and will happily donate. The colleague who shared office with her said same thing, same blood group. My 2^nd office bestie offered to donate but wasn’t sure of his blood group. The Holy Spirit came through like a charm! This was one of many times I have put God to the test and He didn’t fail. You should try that too, with a little faith in His ability to pull through and not let you go through things you can’t bear 1Corinthians 10:13.

Past 7pm I’m making food in the kitchen and my cousin who lived with me shows up with my phone. I take a call from my eldest sister and she quickly passes me to ‘somebody who wanted to pray for me’ The person asked me to leave the kitchen because of the oil (please don’t ask me the effect of oil on prayers, I’m not that religious). I went to my room. He asked in a not lowly spirited manner if I was a Christian and if I pay my tithes, and to whom I pay my tithes. I responded to being a God fearing believer and ignored the question about tithes. Then he started praying. My mind was somewhere else as I tried to focus to no avail. He cursed the fibroid, calling it a ‘trick of the devil’ and assured me of healing, asking me to feel it because I was healed. Twenty some minutes later, after the ‘Amen’, he proceeded to asked me to call my eldest sister early the following day and tell her the miracles I’ll experience in the night and in return my sister will tell me her dreams. I don’t doubt the power of God’s healing miracles but he lost me at his initial questions about tithes (my Bible doesn’t tell me anywhere Jesus made that question relevant to healing),  so I guess if a miracle were to happen, I wasn’t equipped to receive at that time. Or maybe he was just using words, as many ‘Prophets’ of our days do. Whatever the case, this is a lesson if you belong in a community where religion is emphasized over righteousness, where people are complacent with dormancy because they are ‘waiting on the Lord’s miracle’.

The Day Before - July 4

I went to Hospital in the afternoon with 5 other people (the four I had mentioned above and my cousin). Rapid blood tests were conducted and 2 of my potential donors were eliminated. The 3 others donated the 2 pints of blood needed, and to me that is a miracle. Again as secretive as I am, I didn’t tell my friends I’m taking a room that evening at the hospital for the surgery the following day. I saw them off and came to the room I had booked and confirmed while they were at the lab.
The only time I spent a night in hospital in my adult life was when I gave birth, and it wasn’t in my country. I had assumed I will meet a room with made up bed, but I was surprised even the best room in the hospital came with a bed, a mattress, a table, a side cupboard, a television and a bucket in the bathroom. Luckily my packing list included bedsheets and cover.

The anesthetist had informed me that he will meet me in my room at 7pm. He never showed up that night. However a very reassuring nurse came in and asked me to shave around my pubic area (which I had already done because I did my research). She also advised that although she didn’t know exactly at what time the operation will take place, it will probably be in the morning.
Sidenote: caregiver who is hubby comes in around 7pm, showers and asks for food. He finally goes out and gets some bananas and after eating he is back to work on his laptop.
I finally fall asleep, having placed my fate in God’s hands.

Myomectomy – My Experience, The Day of the Surgery

July 5, 2018

1:12am nurse comes to check if I had reserved the blood needed. He had just received a call to that effect


4:30am Janitor comes in to clean


5:30am I’m literally yanked out of bed by same nurse who came earlier. He ordered me to undress and get into the scrubs he was holding because the Dr was already in the theatre. I had to beg for two mins to brush my teeth and then I was off to the operating room.
Dr asks if I’m scared and anesthetist told him I don’t look scared. Onto bed and anesthetist gets to work setting up IV and stuff. More nurses come in and were moving this and arranging that, cleaning me up with Betadine and other chemicals 


6am sharp the knife went in. I started viewing in the mirror but couldn’t continue so they pulled the sheet to shield my view.
Drs work fast... click click click goes the heart/pressure monitor.
First stone-like calcified fibroid, Dr shows me. Larger than a lawn tennis ball and really ugly. Later the other big living fibroid out and four smaller ones. Note here that so far, all the scans I had done had been showing only 2 fibroids.


6:43am I hear Dr asking for thread. I asked if he was closing me up already. He responded he was stitching the uterus. That had gone faster than I thought - the removal of the fibroids
Oh side note hubby had given his phone and unlock code to Dr for video. So an assistant was taking the videos which I have refused to watch till this day.
During the entire procedure the Drs were chatty. They sounded like people doing what they like and I learnt quite a few things about them individually. They made me promise not to repeat the stories they told about themselves because what happens in the operating room stays in the operating room.
Throughout the procedure the only song I could think of was ‘the steadfast love of my lord...’ Thank you Ms M (My Prayer partner) for making me love that song.


By 7:40am, I was sealed completely and yanked onto another gurney and the operating room was prepared for an emergency patient - so they said
I was then rolled to my room


8:00am – 9:35am I was working on some work stuff. I called my family and very close friends who knew about the surgery to inform them that it had happened and was successful. I informed my Supervisor that I had just had a surgery and asked her to inform the office. My colleagues with whom I had exchanged emails were so surprised and called to check if I had really had an operation since they have received some emails from me some minutes ago. However, I won’t advise anyone to work immediately out of the operating room, unless work is healing to you as it is to me. As I was doing all of these activities, I was throwing up continuously, from the effect of the anesthesia.


9:35am: Anesthesia effect wears off. I thought I’ll feel the pain that my friend who had gone through same had described but I felt no pain even after the numbness of my legs wore off. BUT I was still throwing up… some darkish green bitter substance (bile).
Throughout the day I lay on my back with IV running through my veins. The dosage of the painkiller and whatever else they gave was just right because I didn’t feel drowsy and I felt no pain. I had taken 5 bags of IV in the theatre and 3 more that day
Oh, did I mention the catheter inserted for urine?



1:30pm: Visitors from the office



5:00pm: Biggest sis shows up and we chatted and thanked God for the safe operation.



Bathing is the tricky part. Had a towel bath in the afternoon and another in the night. My body is itching and I think it’s from the medication I’m taking in the IV. I’ve been throwing up the entire day and it’s so uncomfortable.
What I was doing in between visits? watching CNN, reading my tweets, WhatsApping, thanking people from work who sent me good wishes all the while with a mind focused on appreciation to God on how smooth the whole experience was

10:00pm: Slept but had to get up a couple of times to throw up.

Myomectomy – My Experience, Post-Op

The day after - July 6
Around 3am: I got up from sleep, lay in bed for a while and woke up hubby to go bring kid. It was 3:24....I thought it was morning already. Of course he went right back to snoring

4:18am Janitor came to clean room and bathroom

5:10am: Nurses came in to check

6:00 Nurses came in again and added more injections in the IV bag

Hubby goes home in the break of dawn.
I do this and that on my phone, read a book which is supposed to be about feminism but has  Ryan Gosling’s photo on every page.
Napped a little and was woken up by call from hubby who can’t find the protein shake I asked him to get from the gas station mart
Decided to journal and son and hubby finally arrived at 12:25. They are eating this n that, stuff they bought on their way here. Where did time go to? Oh I remember, the World cup quarter finals match France vs Uruguay took some time and a nurse came in and removed the catheter and gave me a warm bath. Hubby had to go buy a water heater to warm the water.
I feel fresh, drink 150ml yoghurt in two portions and ate an apple. This was my first meal post-op., about 30 hours after the surgery. It triggered hunger and 3 hours later I chowed on some spaghetti bolognaise, which was the only food available in the cafeteria.
Family decide to use that opportunity to check their blood group. Hubby is B, son is O. and then they left. I had switched carers from hubby to my cousin

I walked (actually made movements which seemed like walking) for about 10 minutes.

World Cup 2018 Brazil - Belgium match begins and ended with Belgium winning 2:1

9:30pm I went to sleep and slept really deep with a pee break around midnight.

2 days after - July 7
Woke up by janitor and nurse at 5am. Nurse greets and goes back and janitor does his great job.
Nurse returns an hour later to get my temperature, blood pressure and heart rate.

7:02pm Breakfast of about 300g unsweetened yoghurt and one apple
Medication time, walk around, Dr’s visit, watched a couple of sermons and then more walk and a bath
Medication and my prescription is renewed.

1:00pm Lunch if I may call 200ml yoghurt and an apple that.

1:12pm Finally free from the needle that had been on my arm

1st World Cup match of the day in which England beat Sweden, then more yoghurt and hubby finally arrives with chicken and chips, which I ate a little. Then it was time to watch the great match where Croatia beat the host team Russia after penalties. Went to bed after 10pm

3 days after - July 8
Woke up feeling much better. Waiting for a friend who had said she’ll stop by at 8am. Trying to figure out the rest of the day.
She came with her hubby around 10am and they stayed till almost 2pm. I took a bath, a stroll n lay on the bed watching CNN coverage of the Thai boys being rescued from the cave (the football players who had been stuck in a cave for days).

Two Friends visited.
Ate some pasta and pepper soup n slept for about 20mins. Then son n hubby pop in for about an hour.
Another set of walks - beat my day target of 500steps - did more than 900 steps
Set a new target of 1500 for the following day, watched a Nigerian drama on YouTube and went to bed around 10:30

4 days post-op - July 9

Woke up by 4:45 by janitor and later by nurses. Lay in bed till 7:10, got up and bathed
Had breakfast while journaling and watching CNN
Drs rounds, work, walk, phone games, doing nothing, medication, visits... the day passed by. Beat my steps target again, did more than 2550. Slept n dawn

5 days post-op - July 10
Woke up at 4:30 by janitor
Dr’s visit at 6:05. Discharge confirmed.
Now the stubborn me is considering driving and not calling hubby to come drive me - so typical.
Up down up down I go in the hospital finance office for bills and saw the resident physician for discharge note. 11:30am hubby not there so I get behind the wheel and drive off.
Met hubby half-way, a couple runs in town and entered the house at 3pm on the dot. Feels good to be home.

Being to Doing...

Why haven’t I written for so long when I have such wonderful thoughts to share? Why do I give in to excuses – ‘I’m tired’; ‘I’ll write later’; …? Or maybe I’m scared by my very own thoughts?

I want to write about how my son’s personality is so independent, how I learn so much from him about living with no limits and not being embarrassed by the craziness of my thoughts and not having to apologize for being me.

My entire life I always desired to ‘be me’, and in a way I guess I always have been because like my son (funny how I’m comparing myself to him and not the other way round) I grew up with a mind of my own. Mind! Most of the time my thoughts were unadulterated – for example I wasn’t one to be influenced by friends and I rarely ever was the average of my friends. I was me.

Many people tell me they admire my freewill and independence – and it’s been hard to fully accept the praises because I knew something was off – a disconnect between my thoughts and my actions.

I’m sure if my friends read this they’ll think I’m under-rating myself, but I know I possess far more than they ever see or hear. They don’t know the internal struggles I’m having with myself – the longing of translating ‘being’ myself to ‘doing’ myself.

‘Doing’ myself is my new internal voice (maybe not new… but let’s just assume it is) – it is more than just having an independent ‘mind’ to actually saying and doing what is good for me. This seems nuanced but stop and think – there is a separation line as thick as dreaming and living a dream. Am I losing you?

If you are like me there are those moments when you wish you said exactly what you were thinking instead of that diplomatic answer you gave; wish you persevered on an idea you had – how different the outcome would have been!

I strive for honesty, and if you’ve been reading my articles and know me, you’ll know I’ve been doing an okay job. Now I want to give more meaning to the honesty by saying and doing what my mind is saying. I’m guessing you’ll be reading more about this in future blogs.

But this is not a process for the feeble minded. I’ve come a long way, I’ve worked on my mind… my thoughts… and I’m still on that journey. I’m at a point where my mind has been cultured in a way that I can trust my mind enough to take the risk… are you?

My Brain Won't Function

What’s the date of today? My brain just can’t remember. To know I have to count back from my return date, the only information my brain can give me now. So I’ll return home next Monday 24^th… today is the Monday before which means today is the 17^th.

Although I work out every day, I still develop a feeling of exhaustion (sounds like its deliberate but it’s not). My body doesn’t feel tired but my brain feels tortured! My brain cells seem to have gone to sleep. Why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like I just want to sit outside and stare far into the horizon than sit here? Is it a consequence of eating three meals a day?

Breakfast is good… I take a couple slices of slightly toasted brown bread (and fool my brain it’s whole wheat bread, or is it?), a couple spoons of baked beans (and I wonder why it has to be sweet – the manufacturers must have poured a good quantity of sugar in the mix… why can’t people just do homemade beans?), some mushroom (again looks like one that was grown in an hour and I wonder why it doesn’t taste like mushroom I buy from the local market), fruits (I literally have to drain out sweet water from the fruits – granted fruits are sweet but the taste of that liquid tells me some sugar missed its way into that bowl) a cup of tea (no sugar added – happy I’m in control of this one), and a glass of juice with no sugar added (but I’m still suspicious the manufacturers added some sweetening even if not sugar). That’s exactly what I took this morning and I wonder why I’m feeling awful.

Maybe it’s the sessions (yes I’m at a training in another country)… maybe the facilitation doesn’t tie in with my learning style – read read read – something I love to do on my own and not necessarily listen to someone doing it during sessions when I have the material in front of me. Or maybe it’s the duration of the workshop – two weeks is a long time for any kind of in-service training. This is the 8^th day – dawn to dusk. Or maybe it’s the content – been there, done it… now redoing it just sounds a little over-dosed?

Maybe it’s other people in the room – or maybe not. Everyone has been fabulous and I can bet myself (don’t want to get anyone involved) that >70% participants feel like me but everyone’s hanging in there – kind of solidarity in torture. Haha! Shhhh… did I laugh out loud or my weary brain is playing tricks on me? Sigh of relieve, no one seems to be noticing, or maybe not, not sure of anything now. Look at them waiting for lunch time and dinner to strongly vocalize their feelings at the table, and that’s when I feel better knowing people are in a worse place than me. Those discussions make great deserts after eating same kinds of foods every day for both meals.

Surprise… It’s real!

For a while now, I have been pulling blanks on ideas for my son’s 5^th birthday. Last year, we organized a birthday party at his martial arts club and he loved it. However, that was too macho for me because I did all the preparations but then everyone kept calling on his dad to make a speech and all the thanks were showered on him. Understandably, martial arts clubs are full of testosterone… and there was a lot of beer which I hate for a kid’s birthday party. So Sept 23, 2015 came and passed with no party for my little champ. I felt so bad for him because he had framed the picture of a perfect birthday that he had shared with his cousin and us.

Sept 25, I had an epiphany… cupcakes with frosting and stuff written on them. Ok, I know I am good with making cakes and cupcakes (yes I am!) but I have never attempted icing or frosting. I have the accessories still sealed up like I got them from the shop and I thought this was a great opportunity to redeem myself from the guilt of letting my son’s birthday pass without a party. I’m not a fan of frostings as they just add calories, but who cares – it’s a birthday. If there is any day to sin against your diet, this is it! Again, being on the moderate side, I decided I won’t use butter for the frosting, I’ll do simple icing. I headed to the shops and bought the ingredients and balloons, including a blue balloon!

 Saturday evening, I bake the cupcakes. On Sunday as God will have it, my hubby took our son out and I stole that opportunity. I iced the cupcakes and I’ll say for a first timer I didn’t do too badly. I wrote ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY EJ’ on the cupcakes but it was sloppy (but visibly clear) because my icing mixture was runny and set up the living room. When they returned, I handed him the blue balloon in hand and yelled ‘surprise’ as he was entering the house. He was so shocked he ran and hid his face against the sofa. And then he saw the cupcakes, the candle, the birthday sign on the wall and more balloons and he ran to me and asked if I did all that for him. When I said yes, he hugged me and went to blow off his candles and the rest is history.

Have you ever had a dream that came true or almost? His dream didn’t come true on his birthday, but eventually it did. Relate that with your life, sometimes things happen almost the way we wish but not at the time we wished it, because God has better timing than us. Oh, I haven’t told you his dream yet – I’ll try to quote as best as possible:

“On my birthday, I will be sleeping and Mommy and Daddy and Aunti Elvin will come and wake me up and say ‘surprise’ and give me a blue balloon. I’ll get up, take the balloon, run downstairs and let the balloon fly up into the sky, and then it will burst in the sky. Then I will come back upstairs and everyone will sing happy birthday and I will blow out the candles”

He didn’t take his blue balloon downstairs though – remember when make promises of what you’ll do if something else happens and it does but you forget your part of it? Oh well, life happens… God stays the same- Faithful as always.

Thanks for allowing me to take you through this journey of my son’s birthday. He means the world to me, and I am happy sharing part of my joy with you.

Whose Expectations?

Have you ever been told, literally, by someone you love and care for that your relationship is not meeting their expectation? Well, I have and it hurts!

In any relationship, people have expectations as individuals, even though sometimes those expectations are never expressed, they are there hidden somewhere inside. Isn’t that the reason why some relationships fall apart, because the other person does not meet the expectation of the other? We are all egoistic, but at different levels. In the ideal world, when people get together in relationships or teams or workgroups, what should carry the day is the ‘compromised’ expectation of that relationship -‘compromised’ because it is some form of combination of the individuals’ expectations. There are always trade-offs, you lose some of your individualism in order to make the whole (group, relationship, etc.) better.

So what does it mean when your partner, team member, group member, etc. tells you that you are not meeting their (individual) expectations? It means among many interpretations, that there are fault lines in that relationship. But which relationship doesn’t have fault lines, you may ask. None, I daresay. However, we should be careful the way we relay a thought or a feeling… saying your partner does not meet your expectation is too prideful and self-conceited. Whatever happened to group expectation?

I’m not trying any form of self-gratification or atonement… nay! Writing is my outlet, earthly harbor of my secret thoughts. As I have written often, I take sole responsibility of every word I write. Back to my narrative – it is said in team building that the team takes joint responsibility for success and for failure. Why then do people single themselves out as the ones who have always made all the effort and have never faltered, and even when seemingly they derail, it is because of the action of another person, who then has to take all the blame? It’s like communication, it is a two way process, I absolutely do not see how a breakdown in communication is entirely caused by one person, except of course the other person is an object.

Scattered thoughts – I’m sure you don’t understand my rambling. I feel so hurt, I can’t even think straight. I’m trying to go about life as if everything is ok, but there is a limit to how much I can take and consider normal. For the sake of peace, I’m waving the white flag, the ‘nkeng’ (peace plant). It will not take anything from who I am, it may require some extra energy which I am sure I can muster, but I hope it’ll bring peace – real peace. Shalom!

What is your own ‘COCKROACH’?

Disclaimer: the usage of the term ‘cockroach’ and any spelling depicted the term, is in no way even remotely related to the condescending way it has been used by leaders in dictatorial regimes (the likes of George Rutaganda of Rwanda).


When we were young, and it continues to happen today, elders had a way of scaring us… they’ll tell us there is a ‘juju’ in the room if they don’t want us to go into the room, or anywhere else they want to scare us from. I personally think it is a terrible thing and I have stopped people from saying that to my child. It has worked so far because my son, who is 30months old, does not know what is called ‘juju’. However, he has autonomously developed his own attitude about avoiding certain places at certain times by telling you there are cockroaches there.

This is how it came about – sometime last year, I had an invasion of roaches in my house. My son noticed that I hated them and will always spray insecticides around the area where they were. So when he sees them, he runs to me and says ‘Mama, kowé’ pointing in their direction. Eventually he improved his pronunciation to ‘kokroch’ and started using it to refer to any animal he saw, big or small – dog, ant, birds, gecko, etc. As he grew older and could recognize different animals and knew their names, he has now narrowed down that appellation to creeping insects that look like roaches. This is the background, back to the object of my article.

Unlike the ‘juju’ bit which was fear instilled by adults on kids, my son’s use of ‘kokroch’ as a deterrent was solely developed by him. He is very choosy in the use of that deterrent, using it manipulatively only to his advantage. When it’s dark, if you ask him to go to the room and wear his slippers, he says ‘kokroch’; but if you ask him to go and get a gummy candy from that same room, he runs and gets it totally forgetting ‘kokroch’.

What are the ‘jujus’ and the ‘cockroaches’ in our lives? Have circumstances and people instilled some form of fear in us, or have we developed our own fears that deter us from fully achieving the things we could otherwise? I’ll do this exercise, and recommend you do same… think of all the deterrents in your life, be they things, people, situations, places, ideas, beliefs, etc and analyze each of them and what they represent to you. Are they simply excuses you make to keep yourself in a particular situation, or to feel better about yourself, or are they real fears… were they developed by you, or instilled by others in you? How can you move past them and recognize them for what they really are – simply fears?

“Fear not, for I am with you” (Isa 41:10) so says the Lord of Host!

Anger cannot rule my world!

It’s the last day of May and I am so on the fence with respect to dates with my blog articles. Guess my thoughts are on the fence as well. As I had mentioned earlier, I won’t write an item just for the sake of writing or of meeting my ‘at least once a month’ target, my higher calling is to write something that comes from deep within…

This morning while preparing for work, I remembered my teenage years, not the good aspects from that era (albeit there were so many!) but the few memories that bring sadness to my mind. Generally I was a very happy kid growing up, so full of life, but very determined and strong will, which came across in a myriad of ways – some good as in my academic work, friendships; some not so good as in doing what I wanted even if the rest of the world thought otherwise. Thinking about all those things inspired me to write an article that may be useful to others. I got to the office, opened my favorite devotional and the Word, logos, just became the rhema to me this day. Such a coincidence!

 
When I was growing up, I used to have serious feats of anger, some that lasted a month and beyond. What was amazing was that my anger was limited only to my parents and siblings, not friends nor classmates. I remember at one time not talking in the house for a month because I felt betrayed by one of my sisters and was punished as a consequence of that. I practically stopped eating in the house even after my punishment was lifted (because the punishment I received included refusal of food even though I had to clean the dishes when others had eaten – how cruel is that!). At another time, I was falsely accused of being seen somewhere I had never been to – I am still awed by that accusation up to date. So many false accusations were coming my way from time to time that fed the anger in me and I just had this constant burning deep within, wishing the people close to me understood who I really was and what values I had all the time. I am sure they did, but like most parents and siblings, they preferred to err on the side of caution. But at that age, all I saw was that I wasn’t understood and loved enough. I showed my dissatisfaction in many ways like refusing to eat, keeping to myself, not talking about my progress in school, and above all carrying a ‘long face’ around the house. Just to clarify a thing, it’s not like I wasn’t understood by every sibling and parent most of the time, on the contrary I felt real love most of the time, but then every incidence of misunderstanding really had great impacts on me.

Some of my siblings were always on my side. They reacted differently when they knew I was angry, some passive, some more actively like talking to the person who caused the situation. Above everyone else, there is one who totally understood me and what I was going through – my eldest brother. He was, and still is, my role model. The surprising thing is that he was out of the country during that period, but we still found means of ‘talking’ to each other – me telling him things that happen and him advising and encouraging me. He kept on telling me to control my anger, not to take negative comments too seriously and ignore situations that would lead to me being misunderstood. His letters and cards were almost the best things that happened to me when I was angry (I’ll try to get some of the ones I can still find and do an article – I promise). His words were so comforting, and it really felt good to know someone loved me unconditionally, and did not judge me too harshly. Despite all his advice, I still carried my anger to the university. I psychologically pulled myself away from what people thought of me, and could care less if the world around me was burning, so long as I didn’t start the fire and I’m not burnt with the rest of the world. I even completely disengaged myself from things happening in the family if I wasn’t directly involved. When my sisters were showing me tough love, my brother was just so loving. But then, is a brother’s unconditional love enough to get one out of a bad habit? My rhema for today gives a succinct answer…

Philippians 2:13: “for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.”

When I was in the third year in University, I decided to not let ANYTHING get me to the point of being angry for long. Here’s a word from my devotional

“Have you ever tried to break a bad habit on your own? You probably found that when you tried to stop it by sheer willpower, you saw improvement for a while, and then bounced back to square one. Worse, you found yourself binging on the very thing that you were trying not to do. And your condition is worse than before you started your “I’m going to quit” program!” (New Creation Church/Joseph Prince Daily Devotional of May 30 2012).
I tried hard but I wasn’t getting as much success as the effort I was putting in. The changes were temporary because it was me doing it. And then the Word of the Lord hit me –
“In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry" (NIV, Eph 4:26).
I realized I had been focusing on the first part of the verse as consolation, rewarding myself for not insulting offenders. However, of all human emotion, anger has been known to be one of the most destructive. So how can I live with anger and not sin?
"Anger tends to evil" (Ps 37:8) and it "stirs up strife" (Prov 15:18; 29:22; 30:33).
OK then God, I am but human, given to anger at times, but how do I get out of it controlling my life? How do I stop being angry with someone when the person does not feel like they were wrong? How do I free myself from the bondage of anger? Tough questions but God being faithful gave me answers in the way he transformed me by Grace.

I read and re-read verses about anger in the Bible, the consequences of anger, and what God thinks about anger. I prayed and prayed and opened up to God about this canker worm and that I was helpless, I needed His intervention. He inspired me with mantras like: “ life is too short for me to be angry” “nobody deserves my anger”, etc. I kept his Word hidden in my heart, and before I knew it I was totally out of the loop. Alleluia! I was set free of the bondage of anger! Each time I realized a situation was getting steamy, I walked away or bit my tongue, or chuckled and then it’s history. I still get angry from time to time, but that is in extreme circumstances, but most importantly I don’t let the sun go down on my anger – most of the time.

If you are reading this blog and are in any type of emotional bondage, know that only God can take you out of that situation. Inspirational and anger management books, movies dealing with that topic, friends and relatives can ease the situation temporarily, but only God can bring you out of it permanently. And do not let what others do affect you in a way that evokes that emotion; know that the only thing you can control is how you act or react towards circumstances, and not how others do. Today, I am a very happy woman, not giving in to people’s whims and caprices. People who knew me in my adult life will probably be shocked if they read this (thank goodness they won’t!) because they cannot believe I was ever given in to anger (except my hubby, of course) – they know I am assertive and honest in the way I feel, but ‘angry’ is not a word they’ll use to describe me. Sounds presumptuous? Go ask them! God bless you!

Happy February 29!

Today is a bonus day! February 29th doesn't happen every year. I am so grateful to God for this 'extra' day, and that is the way I consider it because it means 'extra' blessings for this year. If you want to feel the way I feel about this day, think of a time when you needed just one 'extra' minute to write that correct answer that just popped up in your head when the invigilator was saying 'Time over', and that made all the difference between having a C or a D grade. You can think of as many examples as your life experiences where you needed just a split second to change things for the better. Imagine you had that split second. That is how I am feeling today.

Do I sound crazy? Well, I don't think so and a few people around me too (or maybe we all are) because I have managed to spread laughter today in the funniest way possible. If you listen to myths, one about Feb 29 is that women are 'allowed' to propose to men and the men don't have to reject the proposal. I have been informing my single friends about this, and some have tried on their men. Although their guys had already proposed to them, it however brought quite a bit of stir and laughter. Such fun!

Ok, this is not the object of my post. Actually I am writing today for two main reasons: first I promised myself that unless circumstances are really extenuating, I will try to post at least one article a month. So hurray I have one 'extra' day to fulfill my promise. Secondly, I am amazed at how many 'extra' circumstances and opportunities we have in life that I finally came to grips in a new way with the saying that 'Never say never'.

Can you remember how many times you have sworn never to do something and then gone back to it? the beauty about it is that people tend to have short memories and forget. For the few who remember, you just ignore them or you let them ruin the joy of doing what you had said 'never' to. Some people are so scared about what others will think that they forget it is mainly about them, not others. Don't we as humans have the right to err? Friends and others, cut us the slack. We say never and come back to it, it's our right to be unpredictable that way. Enough of my blah blah. In essence, there is one situation in my life that I had told whoever was ready to listen and others that I WILL NEVER find myself in it. It is actually something positive, in fact very positive, but it just wasn't in my 'thought' list, let alone priority list. However, I had a snap moment a couple of weeks ago and started loving the idea of doing it, and I'm actually working and praying towards making it happen. God, who am I to resist when you ignite a passion in my heart? I am so totally into it that I am thinking if I miss this opportunity, I will look for others just so I can accomplish this thing. So fellows, feel free to change your minds anytime irrespective of what others might think.