23/06/2020 ~ Queeneth's history of Blount's Disease
Isn't it possible, is it a crime?
Or is it just a silver state of mind?
~ Dreamer Girl by Asa
Aww! I'm sure I must have got everyone wondering why chapters seven to twelve were so short. Particularly chapters ten, eleven, and twelve right?
Yes, I know I should give more robust updates even if I plan on being fast with them because short updates make me feel like some lazy author but this week has been crazy as hell believe me and I had to get hasty with my updates so I could submit them all to Sire on Saturday as we agreed.
Even if Sire is a fast typer, I can't give him so many drafts to type and update hence why I had to write two thousand words per chapter in the previous ones, making it as short but as awesome as possible, I hope. Because I did find those chapters awesome even though they were short which baffles me; the ability I never knew I had - to work amazingly well under pressure.
I wrote it all within four to five days so I could focus on the author's notes properly during the weekend since it is very much delicate and it is what I need to win the writing contest.
I knew I still had a lot of lying to do since the plan is to spend more time with Sire particularly during the weekends. I have to lie that I am having leg pains just so I can update very quickly to meet the deadline.
But somehow, the leg pain came on its own. I didn't know whether to be thankful or scared.
You know, I'm used to having leg pains, and sometimes, it does feel like a routine; like something that is meant to happen at least twice a month so long as the conditions or factors that come with the leg pain are indecipherable.
But what happens when I get leg pains on rainy days???
It scares the shit out of me.
I was writing the draft for the twelfth chapter of my story one night in my air-conditioned room. My sister loves to switch on the air conditioner before going to bed because we sleep on a bunk bed and since she sleeps on the top part of the bunk bed, she usually complains that the room'a standing fan never gets across to her hence she always ends up feeling the heat.
A standing fan was very much okay for me since excessive cold breeze affects my skin in general but I had to be considerate since the room doesn't belong to me alone so on some nights, I permit her to switch on the air conditioning just so she can have a blissful sleep.
But this particular night, whilst I was writing the draft for the twelfth chapter of my story, I slept off while the air conditioning was still in motion, but the cold which had my teeth chattering and shaky had forced me to wake up in the middle of the night just so I could put off the air conditioning.
My sister was deeply asleep so she would not notice that the air conditioning was put out. What she needed was the convenience that would afford her a blissful sleep and she had gotten it already.
But when I woke up, I was met with darkness; barely even seeing my foot. The Power holding company of our axis had put out the electricity an hour or two ago.
I ransacked for my phone on my bed to consult the time immediately after I'd found it beneath my pillow.
3:50 am
Then I looked out the window and saw that the net was soaking wet. Then the slight striking of lightning flashed through.
It had rained while I was asleep and my dumb ass of a sister was very careless that she couldn't even close the windows properly for the air conditioning to circulate through which means that the air conditioning blew outside into the thin air and not into the room which was an automatic waste of resources.
I looked over at her after straining my eyes; she was snoring on her bed. I wanted to slap her in the face for the stupid thing she had just done simply because she was in a haste to get good sleep but I let her be, deciding that I would snitch on her to our dad tomorrow morning.
At that moment, I was pretty exhausted from racking my brain to give chapter twelve, an amazing word content for my readers which was almost unsuccessful since I nearly suffered from writer's block and simultaneously battling with sleep as well.
Quickly, I closed the windows properly and went on to my bed, as I laid down, drifting back to sleep since I was fatigued.
But little did I know that the cold which was able to gain access into the room while I was initially very much asleep had done its share to the bones of my legs because I woke up the next morning, barely able to move from my bed.
Whenever it rains, I get the worse leg pains hence why I always take precautionary measures. I'm always with my soothing balm and my legs? Always encroached in ankle socks or thigh-length socks and wrapped under a thick blanket.
But this time around, I had no freaking idea. Even when I did, it was already too late.
Damn my sister! And probably, thank my sister! I didn't even know which to choose or what to feel towards her, because her lackadaisical actions had caused all of the pain I was going through and I didn't even know if it was the sweetest or the meanest thing she had done.
But thankfully, the next morning when I woke up to the pain, it was Saturday which meant that I could easily go to the physiotherapist's and whilst I was on my way there, I got the inspiration for my first official author's note because it had been a real battle for me thinking of how to start narrating the story of my legs in my book.
But I guess, everything truly happens for a reason.
The day I was first diagnosed with Blount's disease at least to my knowledge, something funny had previously happened which automatically led to my visit to the hospital.
I was only nine or ten years old that particular year and it was about my first year in high school; this is the year where young students do the silliest of things; deadly pranks, dangerous adventures and escapades, and probably a lot of tantrum-throwing.
It rained on that particular, funny day and it was the first time I'd felt pains in my legs due to the cold from the rain that was seeping into my bones. School hours were over so I was waiting in the hall for my dad to arrive in his car so he could pick me up.
But It was raining so much and the chilly breeze was not helping the situation of my knee caps to my phalanges. But truthfully, I could bear the pain. I knew I could hang on and wait for my dad to come for me because I knew all I needed for the pain to subside was a soothing balm and probably a hot bath with a few pain killers.
But I kept groaning and crying because I wasn't used to that sort of pain and sometimes when you make pain look bigger or worse than it seems whether consciously or unconsciously, then it begins to truly aggravate. After all, sometimes, anxiety mimics our fears.
I was scared that my bones were going to break or get fractured due to the pain I was feeling, I was not used to the pain, and besides at my tender age, I knew nothing about pain and it's side or after-effects so I just like I was going to die and then the anxiety came in due to the repetitive expression of fear that was manifesting in my conducts.
Then, I fell onto the cold, bare floor and closed my eyes, foolishly thinking that that would put to an end, the pain I was feeling. There were a few people around in the hall who were seemingly waiting for their parents or wards to pick them up from school and our school librarian was seated patiently as well, waiting for the rain to morph into a drizzle or halt to a complete stop so she can go home.
But everyone rushed towards the girl who had just fallen to the floor, right in front of the open doorway, where the rain splattered on the interlocking floors.
I had foolishly pretended to be unconscious; I faked a faint.
But somehow, I had pulled it off well and at that moment, I felt like I was unconscious too probably because anxiety truly does mimic our fears sometimes. Because, these people had hit me vigorously and some had shaken my body vehemently, trying every means to see if there was any sign of life left in me.
I did not flinch nor move, neither did I make anyone feel like I was only pulling a stunt. But as I lay on the cold bare floor 'unconsciously', I could still feel the pain in my legs and I could feel the palms of the people around on my skin, resuscitating me in their best possible way.
For the fact that I could feel people hitting my palms and shaking my face and I still managed to keep my eyes closed and stay still, I knew I was faking it but somehow, it did feel like I had slumped regardless because I was still in a lot of pain.
Hey, don't blame me for manifesting gross stupidity! This was the nine or ten-year-old me! I didn't even understand what life meant!
But whenever I think about that day now, I knew clearly that I had faked it all but somehow, that little drama I had caused, led to something that changed my life.
Believe me when I tell you so!
For the next couple of days, I was absent from school of course since my dad had come over that rainy day to come to pick me up and had seen me in that state. He took it as a serious matter and about two days afterward, he drove me to the hospital.
When we got to the hospital, I had to get an X-ray of my bones so a proper scanning and examination could be done to decipher or diagnose what exactly is the state of my legs. Then I got the information about Blount's disease and the fact that that was the condition I was suffering from.
It did sound like a big issue because I had never heard of it before. All my life, while growing up, I simply thought that I had bow leg like most kids do have so I thought that I was doing just fine.
I had my first surgery when I was six years old at a National Orthopedic hospital; it was the same hospital where my mother used to regularly take me to for check-ups when she noticed that I was growing up to have bowed limbs.
When she noticed that my legs were not straightening up as I was growing up, like it commonly happens to other kids, she and my dad worked together to have my first surgery done, here in Nigeria.
The surgery was successful and I thought I was okay. I liked my life at the hospital and I made the funniest set of friends. I was goofy and silly and did so many child-like things whilst at this hospital.
But as I grew up to be about ten years of age, I don't know how it happened but my legs got bow again. The bowing of legs was even worse than the ones I had before I got my first surgery but I was not very aware of everything going on around me because I thought I always had a bow leg.
I wasn't awake when I had my surgery at the age of six because obviously, I was placed under anesthetics but regardless of that, I wasn't even aware of the fact that I had gotten surgery done until my parents told me about it. I was very little. I simply thought it was just one of the medical procedures I had to go through because I was already used to it.
But when I got to understand that the surgery was only successful for a temporary time lapse, I was confused and very lost. I didn't understand how surgery could be temporary even though I had gotten thick surgical scars on my legs. It looked like a permanent thing.
And now, I'm hearing that my legs aren't just merely bow and that they are bow because it is Blount's disease??? How am I supposed to feel about that? How are my dad and my mum going to feel about it? What am I supposed to do? After so many years of incessant medical procedures?
What on earth is Blount's disease??