The next day, David called me to explain Femi’s unexpected appearance and their sudden departure. He explained that Femi had a family emergency, which required David’s immediate assistance. As he recounted the details, I could hear the concern in his voice, and it made me appreciate the depth of his loyalty to his friend.
In the weeks that followed, life took on a new rhythm. I embarked on the challenging journey of securing a placement for my housemanship in one of the hospitals in Lagos. The competition was fierce, and the waiting list seemed never-ending. I faced countless interviews and assessments, trying to prove my worth and secure a position in a reputable hospital.
It was during this period that my father’s influence and connections came to the rescue. He reached out to someone he knew in one of the prominent hospitals in Lagos, and after a few phone calls, my name miraculously moved up the waitlist. It was a moment of relief and gratitude, as I realised the significance of having a strong support system.
As the days turned into weeks, I received updates from my parents, who were still in America, revelling in the joys of grandparenthood. My older brother’s wife had given birth to a healthy baby boy, making them first-time grandparents, and they were thoroughly enjoying their newfound roles.
I missed my parents dearly, but their happiness brought me comfort. They had decided to extend their stay in America to be with their grandchild for the next five months.
It would have been a lonely 5 months for me, if not for David and my new job as a house officer, especially, considering the fact that I had moved back to my parents house since graduating. Most times I was alone at home, but I spent the weekends when I was not on duty with David or Ugochi. David and I had gotten to know each other better, we spoke more often and though I had never visited him, he visited me often.
I had been struggling with getting used to my hectic routine as a house officer, my days were very busy and so were my nights, especially because I was scheduled to be on duty at least 3 nights a week. Some nights, I barely slept a wink because there was always one patient or the other to attend to and it didn’t help that I still had to work the next day.
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Most times, I found myself getting so exhausted that one day, I was actually standing and sleeping in the theatre while I was assisting during surgery, I almost dropped an instrument in the patient’s bowel but luckily, that didn’t happen. I was no different from a patient suffering from hypersomnia, only that in my case, I wasn’t getting enough sleep.
Hypersomnia is a condition in which you feel extremely sleepy during the daytime despite getting enough sleep at night. People with hypersomnia may still feel very sleepy during the day, even after sleeping for up to 10 hours at night. The cause of primary hypersomnia remains unknown, however, people may experience hypersomnia due to secondary causes like taking certain drugs, alcohol, or certain medical conditions like epilepsy.
Weeks turned into months, and my life as a house officer was a whirlwind of early mornings, late nights, and countless patients. The hospital became my second home, and every day was a new challenge, a new opportunity to learn and grow.
On one of the nights where I was still very tired, I happened to be on call duty and this young woman arrived at the hospital in labour, she was a primigravida (medical term for first-time mum) and most primigravidas usually had a long first stage of labour. I spent a good chunk of my night doing v@ginal examinations and monitoring the progress of her labour. As expected, she was taking forever to get fully dilated.
Sometime around 3am, I received a call to assist in the labour ward as she was almost fully dilated. I rushed to the labour room, scrubbing in and joining the team of nurses and midwives.
The woman in labour was young, and fear filled her eyes as she clutched the side rails of the delivery bed. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and she panted heavily between contractions. It was clear that she was in significant pain, and the midwife, Nurse Kemi, was doing her best to reassure her.
I stepped in, introducing myself to the woman. “I’m Chioma, and I’m here to help you through this. You’re doing great.”
The contractions continued to come, each one more intense than the last. As the minutes passed, I could see the woman’s strength waning. Nurse Kemi checked her progress and announced, “You’re fully dilated. It’s time to push.”
With determination, the woman began to push with each contraction. The room filled with the sound of her efforts and the encouraging words of the medical team. But as time went on, it became evident that something wasn’t right. The baby wasn’t progressing down the birth canal as it should.
Panic began to creep into the room as the minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The woman’s face contorted with pain and exhaustion as she pushed with all her might. But the baby remained stubbornly stuck.
Nurse Kemi exchanged worried glances with me, and we knew we had to act fast. The baby’s heart rate was dropping, a clear sign of distress. We needed to get the baby out, and we needed to do it immediately.
I turned to Nurse Kemi, my voice firm. “We have to prepare for a vacuum extraction. Let’s get the equipment ready.”
As we worked quickly to set up the vacuum extractor, I could feel the tension in the room. The woman’s desperate cries filled the air, and the nurses and midwives moved with a sense of urgency.
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Finally, the vacuum extractor was in place, and we began the procedure. With each carefully timed pull, we prayed for progress, for a sign that the baby would be born healthy and safe.
But as seconds turned into minutes, it became clear that this birth was anything but routine. The woman’s strength was waning, and the baby’s heart rate continued to drop.
And then, just when it seemed like all hope was lost, the baby finally crowned. We could see the tiny head emerging, and there was a collective sigh of relief. But the battle was far from over.
The woman pushed one final time, with every ounce of strength left in her, and with a triumphant cry, the baby was born. The room erupted in cheers and tears of joy as we held the tiny, wailing infant in our arms.
But our celebration was short-lived. The woman, having given every ounce of herself to bring her child into the world, slumped back onto the bed. Her face grew pale, and her breathing became shallow. I watched in horror as her eyelids fluttered, and her breathing became laboured.
Find out what happens in the Evening….. 💊 💊 episode 9 #checkwithdoctoro
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