Today I experienced what it might feel like to lose my mother.

My mum is diabetic and though that is a manageable condition, in Nigeria it can mean death just because of a mosquito bite.

Two weeks ago when I was talking to my mom like I normally do, she told me that she fell and fractured her ankle. I was scared. I was angry that the reason my mother fell was because she was trying to cook for my dad and my brothers (a topic I would address another day).

She was taken to the hospital and admitted. I was so frightened because when you are admitted to a hospital in Nigeria, you are basically gambling with your life. Its not like the doctors do not know what they are doing (which 60% of the time they do not) its more like the equipment in the hospitals are outdated or most likely absent, then there is the issue of electricity which is absent 80% of the time.

I spoke to my mom the next day and she said that the orthopedic doctor had still not seen her. I asked if she had told them about her condition and she said she had. So here I was utterly confused that they are just letting my mother stay in pain without attending to her. I called my daddy and he said he had already complained but they are not treating the situation like an emergency. Understand that they had not even come in for a consult to determine whether or not it was an emergency, but they assumed in their block heads that it wasn’t an emergency.

I continued to call my mom and talk to her and make her laugh to take her mind of the pain.

The following day she said that the doctor had come in for a short consult and had asked her to choose between getting a cast on the leg and surgery.

Now understand that diabetic patients take more time to heal so I wasn’t such a fan of the surgery option. I asked if they mentioned anything about the healing time as it relates to her condition and she said they did not. She went on to say that the doctor made a very nasty remark about how she would remain in that condition if she doesn’t make up her mind. At this point I was running mad with anger because how dare he talk to a patient like that.

I called the next day and was told that my mom had agreed to the cast and not the surgery. I asked her the reason and she said that the doctor wasn’t convincing enough when she asked about the healing time.

She went home the next day. She called me later to ask if the cast was meant to be very tight because hers is. I told her that its supposed to be somewhat tight because it should be correcting a bone fracture. She however kept complaining that the pain of the cast was even worse than the pain of the fracture. She couldn’t sleep because of the pain. I asked her to take painkillers and dismissed it as healing pains.

Three days ago she called me and told me that my dad had to take her back to the hospital because she was in so much pain. The doctors were again slow to attend to her and when they finally did, she requested to be transferred to another hospital (thank God she made that request).

When she got there, she told me that the orthopedic surgeon screamed when he saw the cast. Apparently, they should not have given her the option of the cast in the first place and it was on too tight. They immediately cut it out and found her that within that period her leg had gone black because blood flow was absent. I felt helpless. Here I was miles away, all I could do was stay on the phone and hope and pray.

She was scheduled for the surgery the next day.

And that was when my strength failed me. I cried, I shouted. I could not sleep. I prayed. I made promises to the universe. I hoped that nothing would go wrong with my mother. As a person that deals with anxiety, when things happen like this, I make out so many different scenarios in my head with the next worse than the previous.

I imagined what I would do if she died. I imagined the burial and then I started crying again. I imagined my eulogy and just thinking of the words made me weep. I prayed and I begged and I apologized to the universe for any wrong I had done. I was scared. I imagined the power going out while she was on the table. I imagined a blood clot forming (too much of grey’s anatomy would cause this). I googled and searched for worst case scenarios and I scared myself more.

Finally I had to take my sleeping pills because half of the night was gone, and I had spent it crying when I had to show up bright and early to work the next day.

Thankfully I woke up to a message from my dad that said the surgery was successful and I was able to call my mom tonight and she is once again her happy and joyful self. She is my rock and my everything and I do not know what I would have done if anything had happened to her.