₦airaland Forum

Naijasinglegirl:
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital.
My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded."
I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit.

After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name.

Thank God, I thought.

Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP.

"Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling.
She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up.

I was not surprised to say the least.
Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab.
Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills.
When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer.

Oshey baddest doctor!!!

"So what is wrong with you?" He asked.
"That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here."
No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital.

"Fever." I replied.

For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids!
A cancerous fever. God Forbids!
A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!!
Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!!

But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is,
"All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA."

Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies.

"How is it doing you?" He asked.
Na wa o. See question.
I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said,
"Its doing me somehow oh."
"You have headache?"
"No"
"Loss of appetite?"
"I guess."
"Cough?"
"No."
"Cold?"
"Small."
He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed.

*sigh* As usual. Don't we all?

It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of questions. My heart broke some years back when a malaria diagnosing doctor threw the question at a twelve year old Naijasinglegirl.
The only diagnosis these doctors are good at making are malaria, pregnancy and HIV.

All my life, whenever I go to the hospital, I always return home with the same malaria declaration after the doctor has assessed me MANUALLY. Sometimes when the doctor is in a good mood, he takes my hard earned blood and upgrades me to typhoid. This is the reason my dad almost bundled me to a native doctor when a medical doctor told him the chances of his fragile 5-year old Naijasinglegirl surviving malaria were 20:80.
At least native doctors have high-tech equipment like a calabash for skyping with sango, a speaking mirror and no-nonsense oracles.
Even when I roll into the hospital from the expressway with green blood dripping from my nose, blue mucus dripping from my mouth and down syndrome attitude, Its still malaria!

Back to our story.
It was time for drug administration. My favourite part where the doctor gets to clear the shelves of the in-house pharmacy for me. The closer the drugs are to their expiration date, the more generous he gets.
Five transparent nylon of drugs were given to me. First contained several tablets of paracetamol, second contained those medium size multi vitamins, third contained more than twenty tiny yellow tablets, fourth contained a green coloured anti malaria tablets and the last one, orange vitamic C.

"Take all of it. Directives are on the pack for your dosage." The doctor commanded.

All ke? He didn't even have conscience.
That was when I gave into a hysterical laughter. I laughed to the point that I felt the fever leaving me in annoyance.

When I walked back to the reception, I wanted to grab a mic to announce to the impatient prospective patients to return home. After all, their problem is either pregnancy or malaria.
Finally home, it was time for me to be my own doctor as usual. I tossed everything into my trashcan except for my vitamic C which became my hourly tomtom.

Until our health care system improves, I know what to do when sickness strikes again.

Migraine : Alabukun powder
Headache : Panadol
Catarhh : Procold
Purging : Flagyl
Boil : Robb
Waist pain : Aboniki balm
Madness : Native doctor
Dislocated bone : Pastor Chris
HIV : Prophet T B Joshua

BukolaZ:
The medical profession is to be respected, not subjected to sarcasm...this niggas save lives!!

NOIBMUUL:
How do you treat KONJI sickness when it strikes?

Naijasinglegirl:
drink lipton and cover yourself with the blood of Jesus.

...what a prescription!!!
This gal is comedically insane.



ALL IZZ WELL

Dnaz:
U had malaria and d doctor got d diagnosis right so what is ur problem. U walk into a doctor's office and expect him to automatically know what is wrong with u without asking questions, please do u think u came to see a native doctor ? We live in d tropics so 90% of fevers is due to malaria, but you want him to run tests that u cannot even afford. Later u curse him for billing you too much. It's people like you that get deceived by the quacks who use computers to ascribed funny diseases to people. Diagnosis involves history, physical examination and then investigation in that order but u want him to jump to the third. I am tired of Nigerian patients. U call ur Nigerian trained doctors quacks only to run abroad and be treated by the same Nigerian trained doctors. Pathetic nation

Naijasinglegirl:
Why are there so many bitter people on this thread? If you don't understand sarcasm run along whenever my name is mentioned. Simple!

Natasha2:
lmaooo, this story just made my night.

Reminds me of when my elder sis had an attack and fainted. She was rushed to the hospital and on reaching there our wonderful doctors started asking questions, including her academic state, like duh seriously?. After checking her bp the doctor said it was normal and that nothing was wrong with her, can you imagine? When she regained consciousness we went back home,by this time my dad was back from work so he took her to another hospital. After proper check up the doctor said her BP was high and that she had chest infection, she was admitted immediately. This is someone who some "doctor" said was okay some minutes ago.

Our health sector is in a sorry state.

Dnaz:
U had malaria and d doctor got d diagnosis right so what is ur problem. U walk into a doctor's office and expect him to automatically know what is wrong with u without asking questions, please do u think u came to see a native doctor ? We live in d tropics so 90% of fevers is due to malaria, but you want him to run tests that u cannot even afford. Later u curse him for billing you too much. It's people like you that get deceived by the quacks who use computers to ascribed funny diseases to people. Diagnosis involves history, physical examination and then investigation in that order but u want him to jump to the third. I am tired of Nigerian patients. U call ur Nigerian trained doctors quacks only to run abroad and be treated by the same Nigerian trained doctors. Pathetic nation

Naijasinglegirl:
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital.
My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded."
I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit.

After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name.

Thank God, I thought.

Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP.

"Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling.
She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up.

I was not surprised to say the least.
Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab.
Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills.
When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer.

Oshey baddest doctor!!!

"So what is wrong with you?" He asked.
"That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here."
No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital.

"Fever." I replied.

For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids!
A cancerous fever. God Forbids!
A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!!
Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!!

But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is,
"All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA."

Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies.

"How is it doing you?" He asked.
Na wa o. See question.
I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said,
"Its doing me somehow oh."
"You have headache?"
"No"
"Loss of appetite?"
"I guess."
"Cough?"
"No."
"Cold?"
"Small."
He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed.

*sigh* As usual. Don't we all?

It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of questions. My heart broke some years back when a malaria diagnosing doctor threw the question at a twelve year old Naijasinglegirl.
The only diagnosis these doctors are good at making are malaria, pregnancy and HIV.

All my life, whenever I go to the hospital, I always return home with the same malaria declaration after the doctor has assessed me MANUALLY. Sometimes when the doctor is in a good mood, he takes my hard earned blood and upgrades me to typhoid. This is the reason my dad almost bundled me to a native doctor when a medical doctor told him the chances of his fragile 5-year old Naijasinglegirl surviving malaria were 20:80.
At least native doctors have high-tech equipment like a calabash for skyping with sango, a speaking mirror and no-nonsense oracles.
Even when I roll into the hospital from the expressway with green blood dripping from my nose, blue mucus dripping from my mouth and down syndrome attitude, Its still malaria!

Back to our story.
It was time for drug administration. My favourite part where the doctor gets to clear the shelves of the in-house pharmacy for me. The closer the drugs are to their expiration date, the more generous he gets.
Five transparent nylon of drugs were given to me. First contained several tablets of paracetamol, second contained those medium size multi vitamins, third contained more than twenty tiny yellow tablets, fourth contained a green coloured anti malaria tablets and the last one, orange vitamic C.

"Take all of it. Directives are on the pack for your dosage." The doctor commanded.

All ke? He didn't even have conscience.
That was when I gave into a hysterical laughter. I laughed to the point that I felt the fever leaving me in annoyance.

When I walked back to the reception, I wanted to grab a mic to announce to the impatient prospective patients to return home. After all, their problem is either pregnancy or malaria.
Finally home, it was time for me to be my own doctor as usual. I tossed everything into my trashcan except for my vitamic C which became my hourly tomtom.

Until our health care system improves, I know what to do when sickness strikes again.

Migraine : Alabukun powder
Headache : Panadol
Catarhh : Procold
Purging : Flagyl
Boil : Robb
Waist pain : Aboniki balm
Madness : Native doctor
Dislocated bone : Pastor Chris
HIV : Prophet T B Joshua

Naijasinglegirl:
Why are there so many bitter people on this thread? If you don't understand sarcasm run along whenever my name is mentioned. Simple!

Naijasinglegirl:
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital.
My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded."
I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit.

After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name.

Thank God, I thought.

Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP.

"Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling.
She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up.

I was not surprised to say the least.
Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab.
Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills.
When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer.

Oshey baddest doctor!!!

"So what is wrong with you?" He asked.
"That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here."
No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital.

"Fever." I replied.

For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids!
A cancerous fever. God Forbids!
A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!!
Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!!

But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is,
"All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA."

Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies.

"How is it doing you?" He asked.
Na wa o. See question.
I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said,
"Its doing me somehow oh."
"You have headache?"
"No"
"Loss of appetite?"
"I guess."
"Cough?"
"No."
"Cold?"
"Small."
He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed.

*sigh* As usual. Don't we all?

It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of questions. My heart broke some years back when a malaria diagnosing doctor threw the question at a twelve year old Naijasinglegirl.
The only diagnosis these doctors are good at making are malaria, pregnancy and HIV.

All my life, whenever I go to the hospital, I always return home with the same malaria declaration after the doctor has assessed me MANUALLY. Sometimes when the doctor is in a good mood, he takes my hard earned blood and upgrades me to typhoid. This is the reason my dad almost bundled me to a native doctor when a medical doctor told him the chances of his fragile 5-year old Naijasinglegirl surviving malaria were 20:80.
At least native doctors have high-tech equipment like a calabash for skyping with sango, a speaking mirror and no-nonsense oracles.
Even when I roll into the hospital from the expressway with green blood dripping from my nose, blue mucus dripping from my mouth and down syndrome attitude, Its still malaria!

Back to our story.
It was time for drug administration. My favourite part where the doctor gets to clear the shelves of the in-house pharmacy for me. The closer the drugs are to their expiration date, the more generous he gets.
Five transparent nylon of drugs were given to me. First contained several tablets of paracetamol, second contained those medium size multi vitamins, third contained more than twenty tiny yellow tablets, fourth contained a green coloured anti malaria tablets and the last one, orange vitamic C.

"Take all of it. Directives are on the pack for your dosage." The doctor commanded.

All ke? He didn't even have conscience.
That was when I gave into a hysterical laughter. I laughed to the point that I felt the fever leaving me in annoyance.

When I walked back to the reception, I wanted to grab a mic to announce to the impatient prospective patients to return home. After all, their problem is either pregnancy or malaria.
Finally home, it was time for me to be my own doctor as usual. I tossed everything into my trashcan except for my vitamic C which became my hourly tomtom.

Until our health care system improves, I know what to do when sickness strikes again.

Migraine : Alabukun powder
Headache : Panadol
Catarhh : Procold
Purging : Flagyl
Boil : Robb
Waist pain : Aboniki balm
Madness : Native doctor
Dislocated bone : Pastor Chris
HIV : Prophet T B Joshua

Gboliwe:
Hahahahhahahahahahahahahhaahaha. Thank you for this healthy laugh this morning jor. You are such a funny writer.

blizard44:
Lmao

Your stories...always on point.

Just wondering why you're this stingy ....You dropped a post and still occupied the firstus o comentus throne.

eaglechild:
All i see is ignorance.



On your part.

chronique:
The human body is not a computer. Dora Akunyili was first diagnosed with cancer in Nigeria. She went to the US but the doctors didn't see any cancer. At the end of the day,she died of cancer;would you say the Americans have a poor health system in that regard?

swerry thats not the issue, death is inevitable doctors cant save everyone and we all know that. When I made that statement regarding our health sector you'll notice I detached it from my story. I wasn't blaming doctors for it. It was a statement on its own. Perhaps I used the wrong word lol and its getting doctors angry but we're still lagging behind.

samdes02:
OP your lack of reference for Nigerian doctors(geniune) might prove to be your undoing someday,keep treating migrane with Alabukun alright,I reallly don't blame you.

Naijasinglegirl:
To those fighting for me, send me your addresses, a bag of rice will be delivered to your doorstep this xmas.

PapiWata:
The bag of rice will do for starters, but I was also hoping to score to few yards of lace curtain material custom-printed with pictures of you grinning ear-to-ear in full political rally regalia, with which I intend to have tailored into his and hers outfits that the missus and I can wear to impress and intimidate the neighbors. While you are at it, and in a giving mood befitting the holiday season, some good old cash, preferably in hard currency greenbacks, would go a long way to keep your esteemed name fresh in mind on the day we go to the election polling stations in Nigeria.

Oh and by the way, pay no mind to Oga Davidylan. He obviously would declare satirical writing an offense punishable by a public floggings, were he in the position to issue such recommendations, so all hands must be on deck to ensure that Davidylan NEVER so much as sniffs the heady aroma of political power in Nigeria, and is preemptively rounded up on arrival at the airport the instant he attempts to visit Nigeria with the nefarious intent of pushing with his enemy-of-progress agenda on our God-fearing, cash-loving people.

Davidylan we dey watch you for America, anywhere you go. If you enter 7-11 to buy coffee for morning, we dey record am. If you take ya pikin dem go Burger King for Saturday afternoon after little league baseball, we people dey there under-cover, dey mop floor like janitor, and take one eye dey look you. If you mistake enter DMV to renew ya driving license, we go make sure say na Aba-made driver licence dem go send give you.

Take ya time o. I know say na because dem dey call you "Elder Statesman" for this Nairaland forum, na him cause wey you dey do yanga and insult Naijasingle Girl when we all go soon vote am enter governor office. Just drop ya apology here, together with small change in Amerikana dollars, and we go commot ya name for Black List, but o, do am sharply and quick, as correct man concern, before we oga see ya name there, come take red ink underline am, say make dem take you do example when people go remember with fear.

davidylan:
there is satirical writing and there is just plain ignorance. Again i urge you folks to please take a look at the definitions of the words you use before employing them.

PapiWata:
Good to see you posting the odd submission here once again, dude. You have been silent for a long time, but I am relieved to note that rumors of your demise are greatly exaggerated, as usual.

davidylan:
Sounds like we have met before? I'm sure, of course, that you're just being "satirical".

PapiWata:
No be all ting when eye see, wey mouth go fit talk am. E get as e be.

davidylan:
Na you talk am.

Dnaz:
U had malaria and d doctor got d diagnosis right so what is ur problem. U walk into a doctor's office and expect him to automatically know what is wrong with u without asking questions, please do u think u came to see a native doctor ? We live in d tropics so 90% of fevers is due to malaria, but you want him to run tests that u cannot even afford. Later u curse him for billing you too much. It's people like you that get deceived by the quacks who use computers to ascribed funny diseases to people. Diagnosis involves history, physical examination and then investigation in that order but u want him to jump to the third. I am tired of Nigerian patients. U call ur Nigerian trained doctors quacks only to run abroad and be treated by the same Nigerian trained doctors. Pathetic nation