Indeed, There Is God Almighty …Back From The Throes Of Death

It was 12 days to Christmas last year. The time must be a few minutes past 11p.m that night. I knew, because NTA News crew had barely gone through the headlines of the day’s Network news round-up. I was back on my hospital bed undergoing another round of blood transfusion. It was the second of a three-pint transfusion in two weeks.
A week earlier, I had three-pint transfused but which crashed few days later, with the resultant low blood-level, which another round of tests revealed. Will come to tests later.
That night, my wife received a telephone call from one, I assumed was a friendly medical doctor, with whom, she discussed my medical condition. Too weak to move, with the second pint of blood still running in tiny drops, I remained still but could hear their conversation.
The caller’s expert opinion was that my case was bad. And that it was only a matter of time for me to die. The doctor suggested that all symptoms pointed to Leukaemia and advised my wife to inform my family before I died in her hands. That night, my wife prayed as she never had and begged me for forgiveness over any wrong doing on her part as she had already forgiven me of mine. And she listed a few.
It turned out to be the longest night. With just about two weeks to Christmas, several things ran through my mind, particularly the future of my family, their welfare and education with little or nothing to leave behind in days to come.
Since the doctor had given-up on me, what chance did I have to prepare them for the task ahead? Do I invite my lawyer to make a will? Wills are meant to be secret and sacred, how do I achieve that aim with my wife in hospital? Perhaps, I should ask her to invite the children and my younger brother, Arch. TamWilson Jamabo who had left the hospital earlier that evening.
The more I urged myself to remain faithful, the weaker I became each time the medical director of the hospital, where, I was on admission, discussed results of the laboratory tests – tests meant to ascertain my true health condition and the state of my internal organs: the heart, liver, kidney, pancreas and all. From his look, I could discern helplessness, even if he tried to conceal it.
But after the third pint’s transfusion, making it a total of six in about two weeks, he referred me to the University of Port Harcourt Teaching Hospital (UPTH) for, according to him, another series of tests. Unfortunately, medical doctors were on strike, which led to my trip to another private Specialist Hospital in the New Layout area of Port Harcourt where, I was examined by four different medical doctors and a physician. Bottom-line: I must be admitted. Discharged from one hospital to be admitted into another? The same day?
If they too had given-up on me, why not say so, rather than waste more funds that would have been left for my family should I fail to make it. So I resisted the admission and opted to go home, and instead die, if I must, in the loving arms of my immediate family.
Convinced that I was not willing to bend on my position, the doctors prescribed some drugs, suspecting internal bleeding caused by ulcer. The physician also recommended another test which he called – endoscopic test, a process whereby a camera will be inserted through my throat to capture the state of my lungs and find if there were ruptures. That was the final test requirement.
My journey to the medical laboratories that eventually turned me into research guinea-pig, started with test for malaria, typhoid fever and sugar level. It was my first ever visit to a hospital over any form of ailment following a feverish condition I discussed with a medical doctor friend late October last year.
That test result showed acute malaria and typhoid fever while my sugar level was normal. With this, the doctor prescribed some drugs, after which I went for a second test. That result cleared me of all malaria parasites, leaving one out of 80 remnants of typhoid but with normal sugar level. However, the result revealed something more – Frank Anaemia, meaning my blood level was low. Experts explained that the normal blood level in men, my size should be between 13 – 15 range but that mine was less than eight.
Upon seeing that report the doctor ordered another test for alternative opinion which revealed blood level was even lower than seven, which apparently pushed him to recommending three pints blood transfusion; and with that crashing, another three pints. The crash had come by way of black stool (known HBP), so another test was ordered, away from Pyramids Health Consultants to Pix Centre, X-ray and Ultrasound specialist, Rumuobiakani, also in Port Harcourt for Abdominal scan.
That result showed HIV/Aids negative and Liver, Gall Bladder, Heart, Pancreas, Kidneys, Aorta and GIT as normal. On the spleen, the result said: Spleen is normal in size and echo pattern. No mass or sub-capsular collection seen. Yet, the blood level kept depreciating.
By that time, I was already half my huge body frame. Rather than abate my health concerns increased, with a huge rise in sugar level, on account of the drugs administered. Within a week of diabetic attack, I agreed that the end was indeed near, but because there is God, it took a roadside chemist to administer drugs to bring down the high sugar level and return me to my initial already pitiable condition, Waiting to die.
However, to fulfill all righteousness I agreed, when, a friend suggested I underwent another round of tests in a Lagos Hospital in Ikeja, where it was finally observed that my spleen, adjudged normal by all earlier tests result was indeed weak. There, doctors turned away into a trash can, all other medications and prescribed fresh drugs. By the way; the spleen is an organ of the human stomach that controls the quality of blood. That was weak on account of stress.
Before that trip to Lagos, a cousin who had visited me informed me of discussions by the family concerning my health condition and how a Specialist Surgeon and Physician had ruled out any recovery on my part.
That would be the third medical expert to give-up on my case. But because there is God, the Greatest Healer, the Impossibility Changer, the I AM that I AM, I am on the path to total recovery, at least, strong enough to share My Agony with you.
To God be all the glory and thanks to all those who, through calls and visits shared my most terrifying moments, when each dream was a jamboree with only the dead. Welcome Back To My World.

Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Works, Dr Abubakar Muhammad (right), welcoming the Chief Executive Officer, Dem Group, Mr Graham Lowe, to a Nigeria-Belgium Investment Forum in Abuja last Friday. With them are leader of the Belgium delegation, Mr Marc Van Peel (2nd-right) and Head of Mission, Embassy of the Kingdom of Belgium, Mr Xavier Baert.