Monthly Archives: February 2017


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If the evil one knew that killing Jesus will bring redemption he would have turned him into Methuselah and stopped his crucifixion. There is always light at the end of the tunnel. There is no mountain we cannot climb if we can only believe. Remember if you can…you can. No one has power over us except it comes from above. God is a good God and there is no evil to be found in him. His thoughts towards us are of good and never of evil. Therefore we have to put all our trust in him no matter the situation. Sometimes things go wrong but at other times they will go well. Life is like a bed of roses. Very beautiful to behold but also filled with prickly thorns. We must never claim monopoly of ill occurrences. They happen to every one- only some are visible to all while others are not so obvious. If we are better disposed, the blows life deals us will be cushioned by our inner fortitude. It is deep rooted in us but sometimes we are not aware of our strengths. Some events occur in our lives that help us access them those strengths. There is no proper certification without an exam. For those of us who are Christians, how can you really know you have faith if it is not tested? The bible called Abraham God’s friend after he abandoned himself to God’s will by sacrificing his son. He who the Lord loves he chastises. So we see Job being tried and tempted to the end because he loved God and God bragged about it. Do you love God? Can God be sure that you will continue to trust that he loves and cares for you even when things seem horrible? The trials we face in life unlock our inner strengths- but only if we let them. Remember the glass is with “half-full or half-empty” depending on how you see it. There is no right or wrong answer. As long as your answer does not draw you down and make you sad- choose it. Whichever one you choose, the quantity of water in the glass remains unaltered. I am a firm believer in God’s strength and God’s grace. I have complete confidence in his God’s divine plan. So I made a deliberate and conscious decision to make today about praising God and celebrating Fred’s life. I cannot change what has happened but I can change how I view it. I can change how I let it affect me. That gives me control. One good thing about being in control about things that happen in your life is that it helps you feel stronger. So you too may be out there feeling down – please rise up today and move on. Feeling down will not lead you anywhere but raising up your head will help you start to find the light at the end of the tunnel. Fred bore his pains gallantly. His passing is now “my pain” but in time it will not be so painful. I choose to see his passing as a way that gave him peace.God’s glory and beauty surrounded him. He inspired me as his mum with his strength -God’s strength. So joy has come in the morning. Joyful trust that this is the Lords doing. Nothing happens in this world without God allowing it to happen. No one can surprise God. I remember when Pontius Pilate got angry with Jesus for not answering his numerous questions. He said ” do you know I have power to put you in jail and release you?” Do you remember what Jesus said? I will remind you today. He said “you have no power over me except the one that comes from above”. This was a man whose life and death had been “foretold” before time began. How could any man claim power over him. God has written down all that is happening and all that will happen in your life before you were born. So let us have trust in God. I know I do try not to make my posts about my faith because I acknowledge that my followers cut across all walks of life. However at times like this… of great pain, it is impossible for me to make sense of it without holding firmly to my faith. Only the joy of the Lord can be my strength at this time. Praises to God in my native tongue: Ebubedike, okwusi ogwu. He speaks and the earth trembles. The beginning and the end I bow in submission to you o lord. I thank God for the privilege of being Fred’s mother. Praise the Lord ! Ije awele nwa’m oma (safe journey my good son), ujor atuzina i (do not be afraid) Otitodilichineke bi na enigwe (Glory be to God who lives in heaven). Igweeeeeeūüí™ūüí™ūüí™ūüí™ Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed reading this, you may also enjoy some other topics we have discussed in this series. Photo credit: Pixabay

Death at my door : Giving God all the glory for Otito’s life…


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I have now stayed in the hospital for over one year with Fred and a whole lot has happened since then. There have been tears, laughter, sadness but most importantly, hope. Just good old hope about positive outcomes or at least finding the positive sides to our outcomes whatever they may be. One very interesting should I say side-effect of the whole hospital experience has been that I have become more “hospitaley” than i would like to admit. I can now exist in chaos; beeping machines and screaming toddlers make up the sound track of my life. I have turned waiting into an art. Somehow I am now less fussed about date postponements, cancelled procedures and generally people turning up late for simple conversations. I have learnt that no matter how far into the future a particular time seems, it always comes in the end. Another thing I can now interestingly do is look forward to meal times with some optimism however unpredictable the actual “plate of food” may turn out to be. I have learnt to eat and even enjoy bad tasteless food. My expectation from food has moved beyond tastefulness and presentation to just good old satisfaction! With this new focus, I have now begun to also make an art of feeding myself. All old fussy eating habits have been laid aside. I can eat fast foods, bad food, good food, smelly food, watery food, hard food (I think you get the point). I eat them¬†without giving away the true blows dealt to my palate as they are being consumed. ¬†My taste-buds have unfortunately become as dead as my ears to less desirable foods and sounds. The other side to ¬†becoming “hospitaley” is that I have become a deskilled mum on the home front. It feels like I have somehow forgotten how to do house chores as happily as I used to. My brain cannot seem to settle into my normal life at home. I keep feeling I need to go back to Fred in the hospital when I am at home with Mark. Our lives have been quite split into hospital and domestic. Karl handles the domestic side expertly (and for that I¬†feel blessed and remain thankful) . I handle the hospital side of things. It has been working for us fantastically I must add. We have proved the famous Economist “Adam Smith” right because like he proposed, division of labour has certainly led to specialization even in our home. Karl and I have become not only guru’s in our chosen fields but also feel very satisfied and settled into these roles. Sadly, the down side to this division of roles is that I have found that I do not cope very well handling the domestic side of things when I go home. It is not easier to be in the hospital either but I guess the brain just prefers doing what it has become used to. Cleaning beds, vomits, chanting nursery rhymes, being the entertainer, teacher and making sure Fred is okay is also challenging. It is stressful but it has become my new normal.¬†I feel a sense of panic when I have to go home. I can still cook (that will take more than a year to get de-skilled) and that. However, I have noticed that I now experience some apprehension whenever it’s my turn to stay at home with Mark. I can’t seem to find where things are kept when I am at home. This makes me feel like a stranger in my own home. I can’t get over how much Mark has grown this past year and it hurts me as a mum that I have missed out a lot on this part of his life. One year is a long time in a child’s developmental clock and it seems like a shame to feel a sense of loss because I have been absent most of the time. I feel too tired to play and either want to constantly sleep or leave. No one notices this but deep down I do and it leaves me feeling sad for my son. He deserves to have me fully too and although he cannot know how I feel, I still carry on. I don’t believe that I am alone as a mum and carer. These feelings that I experience and keep safely internalised are very common amongst many parent carers. During my numerous interactions with parents around the hospitals I have been privileged to visit, this is a resounding dilemma. So as a parent carer who is already stretched by the demands of a sick child is it possible to stretch further to accommodate the demands of parenting your other children or loved ones? Honestly if you are not able to do more than you are currently doing, no one will blame you. The only thing in my experience that I find is that in the long run, you still feel cut off from the rest of the family. So why the need to find a way to address this issue? The existence of each child/children on either side of the sphere- home or hospital means that as parents we have to deliberately step out of our comfort zones. So although staying put on either side might work well for our families, we have to find a way to alternate between these roles for the sake of the children. It puts more demands on us as carers but it helps address the needs of the children. Each child in a home deserves the attention of each parent where realistically possible. We miss out on the lives of the other children if we stay put at home or in the hospital. This need to create time for other children is not only restricted to parent carers in hospital, It also extends to carers whose sick children’s demands at home make it nearly impossible to give any attention to the other children. It can be misunderstood unfortunately by […]

Hospital life : Finding the right balance when you have other children



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God is good. He gave us “Otito” and he was a beautiful pearl that brightened up our lives. He was always on loan to us and so we looked after him completely. Now God has requested him back because he was too precious in his sight to overlook. He suffered so… death became the key to set him free from it all. It hurts but he is now at peace. His peace will be my peace in the end. My heart bleeds. Not because of pain but because of a different type of joy. A joyful trust that this bitter pill is good for me because my God allowed it to be. I trust his decision completely because his ways and thoughts are not like mine. If anything his thoughts for me are of good and never of evil. This blow dealt to me feels horrible but nothing happens in my life without God’s ordination. Therefore I decree today that it is the Lord’s doing it is marvellous in my sight and I will continue to praise him through the pain. It is hard now but I know it will get easier. Otito was strong amidst his adversity and so I draw from it and remain strong. Although he suffered endlessly, through it all, he managed to remain happy and filled the hospital ward that was his final home with his laughter and music. He will be greatly missed by us all especially his older brother Mark and all his friends- the devoted staff at GOSH who were devoted to him. Otito was their boy too. They loved and cared for him like their own. He was admitted Feb 2016 and remained an inpatient until he passed away on Tue 21 Feb 2017…. He will always be remembered for his singing, humming, dinosaur stumping around the ward and enjoying endless nursery rhymes with his iPad on Rainforest ward at Great Ormond Street Hospital and Children’s Charity He brought us all together for a reason and please let his passing not separate us. This changes nothing and although I have been relieved of my duties as a Parent carer, I shall not rest until I spread the word about the world I was privileged to be part of these past few years. This will be Otito’s legacy…… Thank you Photo credit: Pixabay If you enjoyed reading this, you may also enjoy some other topics we have discussed in this series. Photo credit: Pixabay

Goodbye Otito…


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It was one of those evenings where I had decided to write a piece. It was turning out to be an emotional one but I could not stop myself from writing. Honestly, I was enjoying the distraction but at the same time, it was beginning to feel exhausting as my eyes were hurting and so were my wrists in short, I was just knackered. I knew I had to stop writing but my fingers just carried on pouring out my thoughts and I just continued to write with a life depending urgency. I had been through a stressful day with Fred and as always, writing was my stress relief therapy. When suddenly, tap tap tap..¬† I looked up and … phew! I stopped writing. I felt like the blaring speakers must feel during a power failure…relieved. It was like my writing jinx had finally been brhellos oken. It was the nurse just coming to announce to me that there was a parent carers art workshop downstairs at the activity center. Normally, I would have declined but I had to admit to myself that I needed to relax in another way. I accepted the invitation and abandoned all my writing materials. In a few minutes, I had my coat on, bag in hand, scarf on neck, sandals on feet and I was out of the ward like flash. As the lift descended, my thoughts were tilted towards the pleasures that lay ahead- colouring, painting, cutting, sticking and a bit of messy play like the kids… what could possibly go wrong? The thought of mingling with other parents all stuck in this hospital for different reasons (but seeking the fulfilment of our one elusive desire-fun!) gave me the oomph I needed to press the buzzer before me, I had a smile spread across my face when the young lady let me in. I bet she thought I was being polite. Honestly only you can tell her the real reason I could not stop smiling. “Bring on the art!” I thought ,as I walked in. So this young lady dressed in jeans, a top and black cardigan ushered me into a room with only a handful of parents. I could feel my smile begin to turn upside down but I was not going to let the poor attendance dampen my fun quest. I was greeted by the¬†artist-in-waiting who quickly took over from the young lady. I said my hellos to everyone and sat down for the briefing being delivered by the artist. He said something about cutting ( which as you know was right up my street) and making box cards – pop-up ones (hmmm… I was not sure I liked the sound of that) but I was going to have a go anyway. It sounded easy when he described what we had to do. The other parents seemed to be Picasso’s and not even budding ones at that mind you. Their art pieces were starting to pop-up (but to be fair, they had started their work way before I walked in). ¬†It was beginning to feel like art class. I am not sure how I felt about that. Anyway, the best thing for me to do was watch. Honestly, I was too tired and had lost ounce of competition left in me. I felt snuffed out. The events of the day had left me too exhausted to speak. I just watched and listened ¬†to every chatter and banter. I became an on looker somewhat of a floater in this room that was not-so-filled with parents. It was fun to see them concentrating and creating art works from scraps of everything that was available from card boards to coloured paper. It was amazing and I must say relaxing. I wan in fact feeding off all their positive energy like a monster. By the time the artist came to inspect my work, I had nothing but cardboard and papers to show. He was really funny and gave me a slight nudge with his words. I started to glue something but the paper was so blank, it looked whiter than snow. In the end, I found a bowl of grapes and crisps on the side for company. At least it helped me showcase my creativity in the chewing department. It ended up being a relaxing evening. I had a nice chat, tea, crisps and company. There was also lots of colouring and creativity to brighten my evening. At least it was fun to see everyone else do something nice apart from caring for the little ones. I have added a few pics from our little parent carers art workshop for your viewing pleasure here. Hey, we might even have an exhibition soon. well done to everyone who attended including the organizers. If you are at the Great Ormomd street Hospital (GOSH) London, the Parents carers art workshop is held every last Thursday of the month at the activity center. You can find the activity center in ¬†the Southwood building level 2 . You can join other parents and relax for a few minutes cheers! Thanks for reading. Related posts are ¬†Boredom Busters and you can also click here for more. Photo credit: Pixabay

Hospital life : An Escape To the Arts Workshop



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She was tired…absolutely exhausted. She had a calm exterior but was screaming on the inside. She felt like running… Running very fast, very hard until her feet made a print on tarmac. She felt like flying so high until she became weightless. Light enough not to be weighed down by anything.   She was heavy and burdened. She was caged and imprisoned. But it was an imprisonment without a choice to be free. It was not for a crime or else this imprisonment would have become a form of punishment. It was an entrapment for which she was never given the chance to stand accused.   She was not given the chance to defend herself. It just happened. It felt like a lot was cast and she was the one who had the shackle slung on her neck. A burden that was immovable. Every time she tried to lay it aside she was awkwardly drawn into positions that felt worse than she could bear.   She could not breathe. She felt constricted. She could not spread out her wings because thorns circled her resting place. She could not rest because there were endless decisions to make. A moment of slumber was costlier than a tired awakening.   She was enslaved… By every breathe she drew, she paid dearly for her existence. To make her own choices and ride on the horse of destiny was to thwart her whole existence and bring it to a halt. Better not to exist fully than to exist and to lose that existence in an abrupt slash of sorts.   What was the point to her life? Vanity they said all was in the end. But vanity was still important to give value to her existence. She could not¬†throw out or condemn all vanity. Some vanities seemed necessary while others were luxurious. They all gave meaning to her life in different ways.   Waiting was the game of the wise… Mother Earth took her time to churn out fruits at times and seasons she chose. She could not be hurried. Yet time waited for no one even her. It was the reason she was tired and weighed down.   She was jealous. Her jealousy is not of anyone in particular but in the unfairness of it all. Like a hamster in a cage, she seemed not to make a headway. She kept running, never faltering, never stumbling yet never arriving at any destination.   What she cannot stand was this fate… The endlessness pain, the enduring, the waiting, the patience. It felt so inappropriate for her because she was a hurrier. She knew she had to take what she was given. She had no choice or influence in the matter.   She was tired and wanted out. The more she moaned, the more she felt guilty. The weight of the guilt burdened her freedom. She was doomed whichever way she chose to go.   Does she sound familiar? Well that is because we meet her sometimes in different ways. Stop daring to dream. ¬†We have to accept what we have got. When the time comes, the status quo will change. Let’s keep our eyes on the ball, things will get better someday.   Thank you for reading. Photo credit Pixabay

Trapped


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Hello … I just wanted to share this quick post with you today. I played a simple game but guess what? It got me thinking about life. I hope you enjoy it. So yesterday in the spirit of ¬†boredom bursting, we decided to play “snakes and ladders” with our son Mark. I am not sure of it was a good idea but I will let you decide . He cried every time a snake bit him but soon burst into laughter every time he climbed up a ladder. He laughed happily at every other player as soon as they met the ill-snake-biting-fate but was not too happy when they ascended any ladders especially when such rises meant that he got overtaken by such a player. In no time, we began to laugh right back at him as soon as the snakes bit him which as you can imagine led to more crying. He began to see that if he wanted us to sympathise with him, he had to stop laughing at our misfortune. All in all, I think it was a good way to teach him some valuable lessons. “Snakes and ladders” is a game that feels a bit like life. You never know what lies around the corner when you step into each day…as you do on each tile, there might be a snake lying around to bring tears to your eyes. But you need to change your focus to be able to move ahead and enjoy life. Like we taught our son, focus on the ladders because snakes are inevitable. You have no control over either snake or ladder but you have control over how you let them make you feel. So here are Four valuable lessons I always take away from the game called “Snakes and Ladders”. Lesson 1. Focus on the joy that climbing up a ladder brings. Focus on the ladder that lies ahead. Ignore the snakes of sadness, deceit, sickness, poverty. Dwelling on them will not change them. They will only make us sad. Lesson 2. Do not laugh at others when they encounter their snakes. Remember- if you laugh at peoples’ misfortune there will be no one to console you in your time of sorrow. Lesson 3. Be happy when others progress. Just because they climb their ladders and overtake you, it doesn’t mean you will not succeed. Remember the sky is big enough for all the stars to shine. There will be big stars like the sun and small stars. Don’t worry about what star you are because no condition is permanent. Lesson 4. Don’t expect people to be happy or sad just because you are happy or sad. It is not a competition. Live your life. So tell me, have you played any games lately that felt a bit like life? Thanks for reading. You may also like to read other articles like this. They can be found here. Photo credit : Pixabay  

4 lessons about life from “Snakes and Ladders”- the board game