SURVIVING ECLAMPSIA (2)

………continued from the previous post.

There’s something I read recently that completely resonated with me. “When you’ve had a near-death experience, your life is never the same. A divine fire is supernaturally transferred into your soul, to tell everyone about your encounter. This in itself is a miracle. As such, I am on a mission to rid hell of its future recruits.”

When I finally got discharged from the hospital after about one month and like two weeks, I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to help someone in need. To create more awareness about this thing ‘eclampsia’. I am getting there.

I am not a good story teller by the way. By now I am guessing this is something that you have probably picked up on.

So anyway, when we got to the health center where I used to go for my prenatal clinic, I am told that the medical professionals who attended to me were beyond shocked. They couldn’t understand how I was still alive leave a lone being conscious. My blood pressure was through the roof it was impossible to comprehend. There were traces of protein in the urine and my body, well…let’s just say even my mum would probably not have been able to pick me out in a crowd. I was swollen. So swollen that I couldn’t comfortably keep my eyes open.

I feel terrible because my memory of this whole experience is so hazy but I will try my best to give you a glimpse of how it all unfolded. After running the tests, it was obvious that I was not going to go home. I remember the sonographer was very concerned about the baby. I love that he was very honest because I remember him telling me that this kind of things usually have adverse effects on the baby. He checked the blood pressure of my baby and guess what? Is this where we say…Who is God? HE was showing off from the very beginning because all the vitals of my baby showed that he was okay. He was unaffected by the hostile environment that had kicked in.

To say that I was shaken is an understatement. I am told that people flocked the hospital that evening to check up on us. My mum hoped on to a matatu from Nakuru immediately she was informed of my condition (God bless this woman. I love her beyond measure). When she got to hospital, she was stunned. I could tell from the look on her face. She doesn’t know it but whenever her mood changes, her face kind of turns pink. We laughed and cracked a few jokes but there was an issue of concern. Little did we all know that the chit chat we had that evening would have been the last time to see me alive.

That night, everything took a turn for the worst. I had my first convulsion. I am told that the gynecologist who was available (she cries every time she sees me) immediately advised on administration of magnesium sulphate. I need to be honest, I did not feel the first convulsion but I remember the second convulsion coming. How do I describe it? For the swimmers, have you ever dived in to the pool or any water body without streamlining your posture such that the water hits against your body so intensely? Imagine that but the water actually feels like it burns. I remember telling him “it is coming back again” I didn’t know what it was but I felt it coming and it was the worst feeling that I had ever had in my life.

Believe it or not, this is the last memory I have till I woke up from ICU two weeks later. Every other thing that happened in between are stories. Stories that unfortunately, I am still not able to tackle because…I am just not ready.

I am still giving it time. Do I cry every time I remember it  all? Yes, I do. Does it break me? Into tiny little pieces. But soon, I will write it all for you. So that you can also feel the intensity of my encounter with death.

Thank you for stopping by. Yours Truly.