picture is mine
I sat at my workstation at home, trying to work on a story. The tiny table clock read exactly 12:45; sleep was far from my eyes as I was battling writer's block trying to come up with a perfect story.
I glanced at Micheal, who lay on the bed tossing around helplessly like a snake that had just been killed and was fighting to stay alive. The discomfort on his face was visible.
Micheal had arrived at my place earlier that evening, like the second coming of Christ. According to him, he wanted to surprise me and to be honest I was surprised and happy that he came around. It has been months since we last saw each other
He had this annual business conference in Ibadan he was to travel to, and since he was passing through the state I was residing in, he decided to stop by and catch up on old times.
I, on the other hand, had an interview in a neighbouring state I was to travel to. So, since he was around, we planned on crashing for the night and parting ways together at the park the next morning.
But that night, after a fun-filled evening of roadside food, drinks and Suya (Grilled meat). I noticed Michael was not himself. He kept entering and exiting the restroom.
I shook my thoughts off him and tried focusing on myself and my present predicament, which was getting a story to write on when I heard the door creak again.
"Micheal, how far na? (are you good?)" I asked, concerned, glancing over my shoulder. I was beginning to worry.
He tried forcing a smile as he stepped out of the bathroom holding his shorts in his hands. His face was sweaty and weak and he quickly slumped into the bed, breathing heavily. "I dey okay (I'm fine)" he said
I knew he was lying but I tried not to press further.
"Na, just running stomach, my man (it's just runny stomach)", he muttered. "Be like I don chop winch (seems like I ate something bad)" he added.
Of course, I didn't argue, as that was the same explanation I had for his frequent visits to the restroom. "You go try hold on (Try hold on). In the morning I'll buy some Flagyl"
"Mmm," he grunted.
"Sorry," I added.
Early in the morning, I dashed out to the nearest pharmacy and got done flagyl for him. I returned home feeling triumphant and gave him the medicine after I had forced him to eat something.
According to the pharmacist, he was to rest after taking the medication, so I had to leave for my interview without him. Leaving my keys with him to lock up once he was done
"Just drop my key under the mat outside" I instructed him.
He nodded with his eyes closed. I could sense the medicine was already becoming effective.
Hours passed and I didn't get a call from Michael. Worried, I called him on the phone to find out if was okay and had left the house.
"Guy how far (Guy, what's up?) I guess you're on your way to Ibadan now" I asked
He gave a weak laugh over the phone "Ibadan ke? Guy I dey hospital like this o (Guy I'm in the hospital)" he replied.
I paused, surprised at his response. I knew Michael to be someone who detested hospitals. So the thought of him being in the hospital sent shivers down my spine.
"Hospital? How come?" I asked
"After you left, I got feverish and the runny stomach continued. It got worse. I had to rush down to the hospital down your street," he paused. "Turns out I have malaria."
I felt my heart lurch a bit. "So sorry, bro. I had no idea; I thought it was from something we ate, probably the Suya that was disturbing you," I apologised, feeling guilty for barking up the wrong tree. Not knowing it was malaria, a common sickness in my country
He tried laughing but instead ended up with a loud cough "It's fine. There's no need to apologise, we both barked up the wrong tree. I thought it was the same thing too"
"So wetin be the plan now (so what's your plan?)"
"Well, the doctor said it would be risky going on that trip now, considering my condition. So e be like I go just plaster till you're back and I dey alright (I'll just crash at your place till you're back and I feel better)" he said. His voice barely above whispers.
"No wahala (no problem). I'll soon be at the location of my interview; once I'm done, I'll head home immediately. I should be back by evening"
"No wahala, I dey. (No problem, I'll wait) The doctor is here. Let's talk later," he said and hung up the phone.
I stared out the window, we were now entering the next state. I took a deep breath, feeling sorry for Michael. In that moment, I learnt not to self-diagnose again.