'LABISI:
Chronicles of a Breast Cancer Warrior
Chapter 1
I had always desired to marry an Ibo man. I like to make categorical statements, so forgive me if I sound pretty blunt.
In a way, I am everything but blunt- but I guess blunt is the way I sound on paper.
Blunt. I sort of like how that sounds. Do you?
As I fiddle with my paper and pen this afternoon, I am reminded of why I am here; and what on earth led to my internally heated discussion.
I was in the hospital, and on my second round of chemotherapy; with 5-fluorouracil and…I don’t know what else, actually.
I was able to get the name 5-fluorouracil because of the ‘uracil’ in the name. It sounds an awful lot like one of those baby powders I had used for my first two kids(old time mamas should remember this😁)
My name, is ‘Labisi.
I’m married to Nicholas Okonkwo; so allow me do a re-introduction; seeing as I am quite chatty this afternoon.
I, am ‘Labisi Okonkwo; and I have three kids, aged 17, 12, and 8.
I had always heard about you know, breast cancer. I mean, who wouldn’t have, in our day and age? Of a truth, I’d read about its awareness on blogs and other places I’m way too fatigued to reason out now.
But being the correct Nigerian that I am, I thought that my ancestors were protecting me so well, no form of cancer could dare approach me…lol, I was just kidding. But the point, is that of a truth, I paid absolutely no attention to what I could do- I mean screening, self-breast examination, you know, all those things right?
Hold on, I need to take some water.
Ok, I’m back.
I feel so bad whenever I have to touch my hair. I read up about hair loss while on chemotherapy. I understand that it’s a gift to be just alive, but I feel totally traumatized by my lack of hair at this instant. You know, I’d spent 2 years and immeasurable amounts of money on maintaining my ‘natural hair look’, before this whole cancer ish.
Hey, like I said, I know it’s a gift to be alive, but I still get to be a little mundane right? It still points to one thing though; and that’s this: All na vanity. Biko, you hear me so?
Mr. Okonkwo has been such a blessing. I can’t say the same for his family, but that story is for another day.
Yes, I am absolutely convinced that I married the right man.
‘Mrs. Okonkwo?’ a nurse called
I shuffle to my feet. ‘Yes…I’m here.’
She smiles at me, and I feel a little less agitated. Nurses should learn to smile more! It helps even the best of us feel more at ease in this hospital place, kwa!
She ushers me into the doctor’s office, just as one other woman walks out, emaciated and having obviously lost most of her pulchritude.
I stop myself from shaking my head. She was probably what? Stage 3 at least? She even looked more like stage 4 to me, but what did I know? I wasn’t a doctor; I’d only read up breast cancer like a crazy woman, I’d devoured everything I’d seen on the subject matter within the past year.
But really, despite my indifference; how had I come to be diagnosed with breast cancer, and relatively early enough for something to be done about it?
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The story continues at 5pm, next week Thursday, the 11th of May, 2017.
Thanks for reading.
Comments? Would definitely love to hear from you!
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