24/06/2020 ~ Queeneth's history of Blount's Disease.
Baby, baby, close your eyes
Life's a dream
~ Dreamer girl by Asa
Muritala Mohammed National Airport, March 24th, 2013.
"You would have to seat on this wheelchair for the time being as you move around this airport to get the necessary procedures done." An airport official had told me.
"Why?" I asked confused.
"Because If you engage your legs in too much movement, they would begin to hurt." The man said.
I was going to say no; that I was going to manage and walk on my own but my parents agreed with the man and persuaded me to use the wheelchair just so we could get around the airport.
I was annoyed by that information. I could still walk with my two legs despite how bad they were so I did not understand the need for a wheelchair when I wanted to walk with my legs while I could before I travel to India to get my surgery done.
My Aunty's wedding was yesterday, March the 23rd. I couldn't go to the wedding because I had to save my energy for today. I was really sad. I stayed back and spent the day at a neighbor's place whilst my family went to the wedding. My dad came back from the wedding and expected me to be mad or angry that he didn't take me along but I was fine. I stayed strong and he told me that I would be a great person in life because I was courageous and strong.
But now that is practically the last time for me to walk with my legs till God knows when my bones would heal after the surgery, I'm being told to use a wheelchair. It was pretty depressing.
Yes, today is the day of my departure from Nigeria. That ridiculous day where I had pretended to faint led to this particular day; the day where I would be getting a major reconstructive surgery on my legs.
When I got to learn what Blount's Disease was from the doctor, I understood how urgent the need for surgery was. I could remember clearly how he had explained it.
"Blount's disease is a growth disorder of the tibia that causes the lower leg to angle inward, resembling a bowleg. It occurs in younger children and adolescents. The cause is unknown but is thought to be due to the effects of weight on the growth plate. The inner part of the tibia, just below the knee, fails to develop normally causing angulation of the bone.
Symptoms of Blount's disease are that it appears to be asymmetrical, rapidly progressive and it primarily occurs just below the knee.
Unlike bowlegs, which tend to straighten as the child develops, Blount's disease is progressive and the condition worsens. It can cause severe bowing of the legs and can affect one or both legs. It is common with children of African ancestry. It can be associated with obesity, early walking, and short stature."
"Hmm. So what can be done to correct it?" My dad asked.
"A surgery is basically what is needed in most cases, and it may involve the cutting of the shin bone, that is the tibia to realign it, and sometimes lengthen it as well. Much smaller surgery is most effective in children with less severe bowing and significant growth remaining."
"Hmm. But my daughter, had surgery in 2008 when she was six years old at the National Orthopedic Hospital, Igbobi but the bowlegs came back after the surgery. Why so?" He asked.
"It's very much possible for Blount's Disease to come back, especially in younger children and it could be as a result of weight gain. Since weight could be a factor and a cause of Blount's disease, a weight gain would only be detrimental to the legs."
"So, My daughter inevitably has to get a surgery done now, " He thought out loud.
"Yes, she does because the failure to treat Blount's disease could lead to a progressive deformity."
After all of those explanations which I had heard, I understood everything. I understood why the bowleg came back even after the first surgery I had. I initially blamed it on the Nigerian medical system and how poor it was but little did I know that I had gained weight back which was detrimental to my legs.
I understood why my legs looked very bow because truly, my knees have always looked super weird. I used to think the normal human knee looked like an angry face but mine just sort of looked like a nearly deflated ball, edging out on the sides. Seriously, it looked weird.
But now, I understood everything and why my legs have always been so very bow and I knew I needed surgery truly. I could remember one time at school when a rich neighbor of mine came to visit her child who attends the same school as me. Since I knew her, I greeted her well of course but I could feel her eyes on my legs and it was a look of pity she had given.
Afterward at home, I overheard my parents discussing how the same woman had spoken to them about my legs and had asked them what they were planning to do about it because it just seemed to get worse by every passing day. She spoke to them about getting surgery done and that she was willing to support my parents financially.
After the visit to Mercure hospital where I got the proper diagnosis of the situation of my legs, the process to take me out of the country for the surgery had begun. The surgery was going to cost a whole lot of money hence we needed financial support from people.
I had the best people around. My church donated what they could donate and so did the principal of my school. A lot of people were ready to help us. I could remember a particular video my dad had done of our family and I could remember us asking for support in prayers and any other means.
I could remember my visit to the embassy and how ugly my passport had looked like. I could remember visiting a particular Indian hospital where I could get my files kept to make the medical trip to India a smooth one. I could remember my little brother and the way he used to me "babe" in his tender way of speech. It was pronounced "lape" which is a short form of my full name - "Ojuolape" But since he was still a kid, he couldn't pronounce the name well. I could remember him telling me how much he would miss me despite how little he was.
My annoying younger sister was of course, indifferent and was only worried about when she would ever get the opportunity to travel out of the country like me since she wanted to travel to a country like America so she could get an 'American accent.'
It was a memorable process. I could not forget everything that happened at that time of my life down to the minutest detail because, in as much as it was special, it was also very life-changing. I didn't even know if I was ready for that new stage of my life or not but I was kind of intrigued.
I badly wanted to know what India looked like because I'd watched a couple of Bollywood movies whilst growing up and I was always very mesmerized by how ethereally beautiful Indians looked and how soothing their voices are. I also loved how sexy the women looked in their saris. I could not believe that I was traveling to that same country. Honestly, I was more interested in the trip than the surgery.
What did I know? I was just an eleven year old who wanted to be happy regardless of the shortcomings surrounding her!
While I was at the airport, getting the necessary procedures done to be approved for my imminent flight, my mum got into a fight with a fellow Nigerian woman which included an exchange of hot, abusive words. I wasn't surprised anyway because my mum has always been a very hot-tempered person but I wasn't expecting her to fight with someone in a public place like an airport.
It was embarrassing and it even got more embarrassing because the other woman was seemingly calm. My mum was the one who was so livid with anger.
Surprisingly afterward, thanks to my dad, my mum, and the woman settled their fight which was pretty unusual. They had even joked together and the woman wished me well. She pitied me because I was now sitting in the wheelchair provided for me.
She told me to be strong and prayed for me that it would be well with me as I go for my surgery.
Time was passing by and it was getting close to the time for me to depart from Nigeria so I can board my flight. A few days before, my dad had asked me who I wanted as my accomplice to India between him and my mum and I chose him of course because I knew it would be fun being with him than being with my mum.
My dad was the kind of person who liked to travel too and he loved to buy so many things for us, his children, unlike my mum who loved to save money instead so she could use it for business purpose and buy clothes for us later on, the typical Nigerian mother behavior.
Also, my dad was more of an easy-going person than my mother. I was afraid that I would get a slap from her or that she would yell at me when we both get to India and I didn't want any of that. I wanted space from her and that time was the right opportunity for me to decide my luxury.
So it was my dad and I taking India!
As we had gotten all of our goods checked and done all of the things we had to do at the airport, it was time for my dad and me to go. We had to leave my mother behind so she could go home and stay with my younger siblings.
Then, her emotions overwhelmed her and she began to cry. She wept a lot. Multiple tears steaming down her rough, hard cheeks and liquid mucus escaping her nostrils. Her face was a mess because she couldn't get a hold of the pain she was feeling; her firstborn child is going for a major surgery where a lot can go wrong in as much as it could go right.
She could lose her daughter in an airplane crash or her daughter could die during the surgery. This moment could be the last that she would ever set eyes on her daughter. She knew not of what lied ahead. All these things ran through her mind and it made her worried, sad, and emotional. It was a major moment of her life. Just like it was for me.
But at that time, I found it funny that she was crying. My mum sort of looks funny when she cries but at that moment, I knew I could not laugh because it was a serious moment but my dad and I kept wondering why she was crying so much.
"Why are you crying mummy?" I asked since she would not stop crying. "I would be fine. I'm only going for surgery and my legs would be straight, " I said to her and she gave me a nod but did not stop crying.
I was honestly very happy that I was getting surgery and also, flying out of the country. I did not want her to cry. I was going for surgery because I did not want it to ruin my mood neither did I want to see it as a cause to cry as well because she was really sad and it made my heart break even though it seemed funny at first. I was very hopeful and ready for whatever was to come.
My dad was my pillar. He didn't shed any tears, he only told my mum to stop crying and be full of hope just like I was.
Then my dad wheeled me away, into the section where we were to depart and board our flight, away from my worrying mother who could only depend on God to keep and protect her husband and firstborn child...