Durojaiye – My Miracle 2
Honestly, it felt like Jesus came down and gave me a peck, I have never felt so relieved in my life. Her name was Alima and when I asked to see her the next day, nobody knew her.
That’s how I concluded my dad had sent Nurse Alima, he always hated to see his children hungry.
That night, is by fact, the longest night of my life. You know when they say there’s just a thin line between life and death, I witnessed it in 3D that day.
The next morning, my aunt took me to Lagos State University Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), Ikeja. Dr Babalola told us to go for a CT scan at AfriGlobal Medical Centre at Ikeja. The result – my brain was fine, my pelvic was a little bit shifted, and my Tibia and Fibula was completely shattered.
I wasn’t admitted to the hospital, so I was visiting twice a week. After about 6 trips to the hospital, the doctor told me that “overlapping my bones” was the best they could do except I want a surgery which would involve fixing an iron in my leg for life!
This meant no heels, no shoes, just Slippers. I rejected the offer and my family did same too. I thought I had hope with the doctor, but yet again, my thoughts were wrong.
Few days after, a close family friend introduced us to a traditional bone mender. On my very first session with him, he checked my leg and knew exactly where the pain was immediately.
While he was removing the POP on my leg, the pain I felt that day made me cherish good health even more.
No jokes, my feet was about to fall off and surprisingly, it was decaying. Obviously, the nurses simply wrapped up my leg without any form of treatment and if I had waited one more week, I’d be one-legged by now.
Right after a casual massage, he put some sticks around my leg and wrapped it with a bandage. The pain stole my sleep for 3 long days and made a fool out of every sleeping tablet.
Basically, all Baba (Bone Mender) did was massage my leg with a special ointment three times a week, encourage me with Jesus, and give me anointing oil. He was a really nice man.
The first day I tried to walk again was totally epic. I stood by the wall for thirty minutes, crying, I was scared my leg will fall off.
Eventually, the wound took months to heal and Baba made me neglect the crutches, which I used for good five months, January – May. I got a walking stick and just like when I was few months old, my journey to walk again began.
I wouldn’t want to bore you with my lazy “walk routine”, it was a nasty period. By June, the “walking stick” tenure ended miraculously.
For 5 months, I only rocked short gowns and bum shots but by June, I could put on trousers. I had no job to go back to, so I was housebound for some time. Actually, I was sacked through a mail on the hospital bed in January.
Although I’m not so crazy about heels, I didn’t like the thought of being restricted either. My strength came from God, my family, church members and of course, Baba (I never got his name). If not for God, I would either be dead or live the rest of my life with just one leg.
Did I mention that along with the bus I boarded (16 passengers), an 18 passenger bus ran into the trailer too? Well, 18+16=34. 33 died, but I SURVIVED!
It’s been a year and four months, I’m living normal, walking normal and rocking heels like my legs never decayed. The doctors couldn’t help, but God proved himself strong and mighty and that’s how I got the name DUROJAIYE.
My name is Blessing Dikeocha, my message to you today is NO MATTER WHAT YOU FEEL OR WHAT THE SITUATION TELLS YOU TO FEEL, YOUR MIRACLE IS ONE STEP AWAY.