Vitamin for your soul: Thank You Shaniz

Journaling


24th March ’17

Ward E1


I had started sleeping better.

Although the pain in my jaw and head tugged at me around 4 am.

I was administered my cocktail of Opioids minutes after pressing my buzzer, but the pain lingered on till after breakfast. Amidst the discomfort, things were beginning to look brighter for me.  I meditated with an assurance that my days of sorrow and tears were over. I was feeling ecstatic, so I had an early shower, and dressed up in my Burgundy Print-Midi Skirt, pairing it with a grey button-down sweater.

Dressed Up

Before I settled into bed to have my afternoon nap, one of the nurses walked up to my bed, asking me to pack up my things as I would be moved to another ward. I wasn’t given any notice, so I kept asking questions, “Why am I being moved? For how long? My things are a lot and I won’t be able to pack by myself……I need to call my sister.” At this point, I was feeling malaise and relegated to my bed.

In-between the rhetorical questions, two nurses reported back to my bed, helping to pack my things. In less than an hour, I was wheeled out on my bed, from Ward E1 up to Ward I.

The journey up was a bitter-sweet feeling.

A part of me was excited about the change, and another part was anxious.  I mean, I had spent 63 days in here, and honestly had enough. I thought about the loving bonds established with some health professionals/ward mates—as memories was all I had now, considering I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye or express my gratitude.

Ward I

From the moment the elevator opened, everything felt different.

The ward smelt and looked pristine, everything appeared brand-new and sparkly.

Each corner was as crispy and neat as the Rheumatologists that visited me on Hospital Rounds.  

(The rheumatologists were one of the specialists attending to me and they consistently showed up on ward rounds in groups, looking excellently dressed.)

The view from my bed, wow!

‘How is this the same hospital?’ I muttered to myself, bewildered.

The nurses who escorted me up shared their last goodbyes and left.

 I was now alone with my thoughts, in a new territory, still stuck with the elderly.

Ward I – Royal Hallamshire Hospital

My new room’s size was more expansive, with 2 aged women opposite me (Shaniz and Nancy).

I got the window corner again, unpacked my things and settled in.

It was past 2pm on Friday, feeling lonely, I noticed I was slipping into a despondent state. So I got busy arranging my belongings, and bed space. Ordered Chinese takeaway, ate it feeling immense gratitude because my body could now accommodate spicy food. After my lunch, I took out Emma Farrarons Mindfulness Colouring Book and started colouring. 

This was one of those days I lacked the hardihood of initiating a conversation with new ward mates.

Shaniz seated by her bed

Shaniz was an aged-woman admitted opposite my bed.  She stared intently, looking like she was intrigued by my presence. She kept this on for an extended period of time before walking over to my corner, asking questions, “where are you from? your family? what is wrong with you?”  We both exchanged words as she responded in deconstructed sentences, as English wasn’t her first language. 

After our short exchange, Shaniz heads back to her bed and immediately returns with Oranges and Satsuma’s. Before I could explain that I couldn’t eat them, she walked back to her bed and was back with a small purse. She emptied all the change she had left on my desk with a twenty pound (£20) note, then walked away.

I sat back in stillness, overwhelmed with gratitude.

I couldn’t muster the right words so I kept it simple, and said, ‘No thanks, Shaniz. I am fine, thank you. I don’t need these, its okay……..’

Without a response, Shaniz was back for the third time, this time with a five pounds (£5) note. At that moment I realised the best I could do in return was to accept her offerings and bless her with love.

Later in the evening, Shaniz’s son came to visit and I told him about how charitable his mum had been. He later informed me of her discharge later that night, so I quickly painted a Thank You letter and asked him to hand it over to her.

I tell you, Shaniz’s absolute quality of unconditional love is truly one of the most incredible experiences I have ever had. She calmed my anxious spirit that was afraid of change and experiencing new territories with unfamiliar faces.  She made me feel safe and became my source of rainbow on a cloudy day.

With all that’s going on, as we collectively experience these uncertainties, I will like everyone reading this to remember the power of connecting with others by extending nourishment without hoarding it, by anticipating the needs of those around us. Offering encouragement and comfort, giving someone else something you would want when in crisis.

And also, don’t be afraid of change. Because you never know what amazing person or view is waiting out there to nourish your spirit.

I will end this by sharing one of my favourite quotes from the Iconic Maya Angelou:

“The thing to do, it seems to me, is to prepare yourself so you can be a rainbow in somebody else’s cloud. Somebody who may not look like you. May not call God the same name you call God – if they call God at all. I may not dance your dances or speak your language. But be a blessing to somebody. That’s what I think.”

 

Share:

8 Comments

  1. Linda
    April 11, 2020 / 10:26 am

    Hey Nicole,

    Your story and the way you write transports me a lot.

    You’re special and thank you for sharing with me.

    Hope is alive 😘

    • April 14, 2020 / 4:58 pm

      Thank you, thank you so much Linda, for taking out time to read my story. I am immensely grateful 🙂

  2. Sakenim
    April 14, 2020 / 5:03 pm

    This was such a beautiful read! Many a time we (who have family or friends that are ill), spend all the time worrying about the patient when we call, we neglect to ask questions or speak about things that’ll get their minds off the illness, even if just for a second. Thank you tons for bring up this perspective. I can’t wait to read more.

    • April 14, 2020 / 5:26 pm

      Thank you so much for giving your time to read this.

      You are absolutely correct. If I had never gone through this experience, I wouldn’t understand that hospital ward experiences are beyond pain and uncertainties. I cant wait to share more of my Healing Journey with you 💝

    • Aisha
      April 17, 2020 / 2:27 pm

      I absolutely love the way you write. It draws you in and paints the picture vividly. Enthralling I think is the word I’m trying to find. You’re a gem and I say this because for someone who has spent that much time in the hospital, going through what you went through and still be able to see life from the bright side of the rainbow, is a beautiful thing. Thank you for being.
      I dont know Shaniz but I love her,! We need more of her in this world. God bless her and God bless you too Nikki!

      • April 22, 2020 / 2:58 pm

        Thank you so much for your generous and encouraging comments.

  3. Folake
    April 25, 2020 / 1:49 am

    This was such an amazing read. Sometimes in life we encounter the type of kindness that leaves us dumbstruck. Thank you for sharing your healing journey with us. Can’t wait to read more. ❤️

    • April 25, 2020 / 7:10 am

      Thank you Folakemi for taking time out to read my story 💝

Leave a Reply to Folake Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

My Story

Welcome to my Healing Sanctuary.

My name is Adebambo Nicole {both names L-R meaning "Crown Comes With Me & Victory of The People."

Sometime in May 2015, I felt a knife-stabbing pain penetrate the upper-left side of my back, with no energy left in me to make it out of bed, I made an SOS call. My entire body was consumed with excruciating pain and fatigue like a gigantic truck had fallen over it.
That Saturday was the beginning of my fight with a Chronic Disease that the doctors were unable to Clinically Diagnose.

After two years of countless hospital visits, admissions, surgeries & invasive procedures, I triumphantly got a breakthrough from Hospital Admissions in 2017. Still, with no name for the disease, I left the hospital as an out-patient with a provisional diagnosis: Possible Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease—whereby the lymph nodes all over my body were highly inflamed.

I created this space to chronicle my healing journey that has been a cocktail of debilitating pain and my unbending faith challenged with: fear, hope, boundless love, anger, heartbreaks, forgiveness, despondence, communal-support, losses, and delicious-fellowships.

Somehow, all the darkness I have had to live through has initiated rebirths—catapulting me into deep healing, self-discovery, and growth.

I have been given the gift of New Life, and this time around: I will be shining my spectacular light—painting the various colors of my truth—using my blend of gifts to enrich and uplift You.

Sharing the breakdowns and breakthroughs—to invigorate your faith, hope, and strength.

I write to be available to your wounds and serve you with ingredients for healing.
To be a wellspring of empathy, positive-energy, and unconditional love.

If you want to be inspired, encouraged, informed, or need to propel your faith, please subscribe to stay updated/share as this space chronicles my walk through the valleys and shadows.
I hope to remain a source of LIGHT as I share bits & pieces of this journey: detailing the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I welcome you with love, as we remain a community that supports and lifts each other’s spirits.

Read More