I could barely find my voice when I was asked if I was related to a young man, Michael (real name not used). Michael had just been discharged less than two weeks ago after he took four pints of blood on account of sickle cell anemia, of which yet again he was having a reoccurrence. I encouraged him to visit the hospital on Saturday when he complained of symptoms I reasoned to be suggestive of anemia, and thankfully he obliged. Unfortunately, his older sister had to shuffle between work and taking care of him as she was absent from work two weeks earlier on a significant number of days.
Michael had to endure the stress of going to and from the hospital, and by the afternoon, when his packed cell volume was out, he was sure to need some extra pints. I got to the hospital just after the doctor had seen him in the general outpatient department, and the hospital assistant barely supported the lethargic Michael. I picked him up and held him so he could lean on me as I led him to the emergency room. Here in Nigeria, the healthcare system is terrible. And we understand the plight, even though we wish it could be better. Here, Michael was alone, with his life at risk from the same healthcare system.
I got him settled in to see the casualty officer on duty after I introduced myself to the lady, and she quickly honored me. There, I began to feel the effects of standing in as the patient's caregiver, and this would have been sweeter to say if I were a relative. I abandoned my status and began to pursue getting blood from the laboratory. Having worked in the same hospital setting, I knew it was a herculean task to source blood, and this was where I had to patiently befriend the staff in the laboratory so I could achieve my goal despite making payments. Luckily, I got two pints of blood, and one of them was fresh whole blood, which benefited Michael more. By evening, Michael began to receive his first pint of blood without any of his blood relatives on the ground. I bought the drugs in addition to all the items needed to secure intravenous access.
SCREENSHOT IS MINE
My joy began to overwhelm the stress I had undergone when Michael's vitals began to improve. His breathlessness and dizziness subsided. I was glad that his life was saved. The relative eventually showed up at about 9:30 p.m., which was a result of her difficulty being excused from her workplace. Private organizations are usually less considerate when an individual has to make an excuse. I checked on Michael the following day, and he was better, though not at optimum health.
By Monday, I had to resume to Michael's side after I closed from work by 5 p.m. and yet again, make an arrangement for the third pint of blood, which was more difficult as donors were scarce as a result of the ongoing Muslim Ramadan fasting. It took me two hours before I could secure the third pint of blood for Michael. In between the struggles, I got a call from the village (at least 4 hours away) that my dad was unwell and needed medical attention. At that moment, I was destabilized and glad I didn't opt for the donation of blood that evening, as I had earlier thought.
IMAGE CREDIT IS MINE
Thankfully, Michael is much better and almost fit for discharge, except that the managing physician prefers he take the fourth pint so as to have adequate blood in his system. I would definitely have to sit down with Michael and discuss his health, especially as it relates to his dietary lifestyle.
Two different people asked me if I was a family relative as a result of how much I availed myself of for Michael. The irony of the matter is that it has been barely a month since I knew Michael. My heart was drawn to him to stand by him and show him kindness. I didn't have to be family by blood; all I needed was to be humane and have a heart.
I hope we can have a heart of kindness toward even strangers. This goes a long way toward making the world a better place to live.