The next six weeks was filled with fun activities and memories. Exams were around the corner as the semester was coming to an end so we had to study harder to ensure we cover every possible loop hole; this would be our first exams as undergraduates. Francesca and I made adjustments to our study time table since lectures had ended (It was mostly me, she didn't want the extra time but I had to persuade her). We studied four hours in the day and four hours at night, we took turns to visit each other's houses for the sessions and also took turns to cook or buy take outs. We tried to make it fun; the hours we weren't studying we spent it doing something fun and resting.
Two weeks into the exam something happened; we had rushed to the exam hall because the day's paper was scheduled for 8:00am and we had overslept due to late night studying. An hour into the exam I slumped and fell from my desk. "Sir someone just fainted over here!!!" a shout came from my corner, alerting the invigilators. They came to my rescue and rushed me to the hospital.
"Ola Ola Ola…." I woke up to the sound of my name being screamed loudly. Everything was a blur and I couldn't make out the face of the person standing over me. I could hear the person shout again "she's awake, she's awake" "Doctor! Doctor!! " I wasn't fully conscious yet but I was starting to recognize that voice. I felt the cold steel of the stethoscope against my skin, and I could hear the beeping monitors at that moment I knew where I was and why I was there.
Finally, I fully regained consciousness to Francesca sitting right beside me all panicked and worried and the doctor saying "she's okay but she still needs a lot more rest and infusions, try not to stress her, no bad or shocking news and of course no school work". "How did this happen? How did I get here? Everyone is going to find out now. I can't share this with anybody" my mind went in spirals; I thought of a thousand things in a millisecond. This secret is a big one, I cannot share this and I'm most definitely not ready to share with anyone, not like this. I tried to speak, to ask the doctor for a moment. It felt like my head was going to split and I was extremely weak. That was when I felt the cannula inserted in my arms. Francesca rushed over to hold me and I could hear the doctor say "No dear you need to rest. Lie back down".
I spent three weeks in the hospital and missed the rest of my exams. Francesca spent those three weeks with me but I made sure she didn't miss her exams as well. I insisted she sat for the rest of her exams to avoid complications for her at least my chances of resitting for mine was assured unlike hers. The school had informed my mother of my state and she joined us at the hospital. After I was discharged I was permitted to go home since school was already vacated and my resitting, postponed until resumption to ensure full recuperation. My mum thanked Francesca for standing by me and booked her a flight back home to show her gratitude. I could see the questions in her eyes every time she looked at me. I was so happy we were on break because I needed space from everybody, their possible questions and the pity party, especially her. I just wanted to avoid her and wished so much that time could turn so that this incident would never have happened or better still that I never met her. We all travelled from the hospital; my mum had left me with the nurses and went to my house to pack my belongings while Francesca did the same, the day before. We drove to the airport together, said our goodbyes and boarded our flights home.
The holiday was two months long, long enough for full recovery. We got home to a welcome party daddy had organized for me to make me feel better. My family and friends were all present at the party. Unfortunately, the party didn't cheer me up instead it irked me. I had hoped I would come back to some peace and quiet; I hadn't run away from the pity party in school to waltz right into it at home. I knew daddy had put in a lot of effort into planning this and I couldn't afford to make him sad so I forced myself to put on a smile and join the party. I was enraged every time I heard the word "sorry" and wished nothing more than for the party to end. After it had all ended I went to my room and locked the door allowing no one into the room. For the first few weeks I had a routine; I stayed in my room all day long, came out only to have my meals and spoke to no one. I could tell my parents were worried but I really needed sometime alone besides they were already used to this by now, with time I would come around. Francesca called and called for days but I never answered; what was I going to say to her? How could she call without asking all those questions she had swarming in her head? It took time but I recovered from the passive depression and returned to the lively little girl my parents had been waiting for patiently. We shopped, went on family dates, hosted family game nights, everything was finally back to normal. I spoke with Francesca but I made sure to avoid bringing the question up and kept the conversations as brief as possible.
You know how you live with your birth mark all your life and accept it as part of your life without knowing where or how it came about? That's how I have lived with and accepted the fate which this sickness has chosen for me, the only difference being that birthmarks never give you discomforts neither are they life threatening but this is. I have tried to find a cure to this plaguing ailment, prayed for healing and basically everything that could possibly make me whole. I grew up indoors with the exception of school and church under strict supervision. Whenever I had an episode it led to thousands of questions, stares and pity which I hated. I couldn't lead a normal life like the other kids my toys had to be sterilized, my meals were always "healthy", and I had to avoid eating certain types of food and always went for routine check-ups that involved thousands of injections. This life style turned me into a very introverted child, my hatred for the pity party and question from my friends turned me from the idea of friendship besides where would I find the time to spare for them. I was angry at life that I only found joy with and within myself and sometimes amongst my family. Some insensitive comments have been made around me in my lowest times by a few people who barely understood. Honestly i got depressed a few times but luckily I always walked out of it; I once was terribly depressed, I felt suffocated in my body, irritated by everything and all I could think of was "a way out". I looked for peace but I couldn't find it; not in my songs or my playlists nor in the arms of my parents. The noise in my head was too much and I felt utterly useless as I couldn't go to school, read nor do my homework myself; the things I loved to do. My parents prayed for me every day and stood by me every step of the way. I had to be put on antidepressants and sedatives to get me to sleep. Thankfully I was able to get out of that phase. This was what shaped me into the girl I had become, the girl Francesca had met,` the girl I longed so much not to be. I wanted to be able to go to the beach, to go see movies, to spend the entire day without worrying about medications, to wear the type of cloths I loved, to make friends and visit them as I wished. It felt like I was this entirely different being from the person I actually was. I wanted more than anything else, to be able to achieve my dreams without the limitations this condition has presented me with. Talking about the challenges I have and I'm still facing as result of this ailment might sound as an exaggeration to some and only a few might understand but indeed they are as presented and maybe worse. I suffer from a disease known as HYPOGLYCEMIA and all this is what makes me Olanna Nwaedo.