There was still time

Sheila looked at her swollen leg having a diabetic ulcer with utmost disgust. She was
uncomfortable at the sight of the leg. She had just returned from a private clinic—who
has diagnosed the cause of the swelling to be as a result of microorganisms growing on
her already developed wound, which has now become a sore. She is a mother of two:
Clinton, her younger son and Ken, her older son. Phillip works in an accounting firm
while Clinton is in 300L, OAU, studying Physiotherapy.
Clinton's heart throbbed when he heard that his mother has a sore on her leg. He came
home immediately. Nobody was at home except from his mother. He headed straight to
his mother's room.
"Mummy, how are you?" He said.
"Clinton! You came home to see me." Sheila said.
"Yes, mummy" he says.
He looked at the leg, the intensity of the state at which it was. He could not help rubbing
it to ease her of the pain. He touched the ankle of the leg.
" I can't feel that place, it is dead" she says. He reassured her with a knowing smile.
" Mummy you know what, let me
buy you Ampliclox for you to take. I took it and it healed me, oh" he said.
"Go and buy it then. Take my ATM. You know the pincode." She said.
He goes to Benco way pharmacy. A tall, fair Lady, in a white apparel attends to him.
"How can I help you?" She said.
" Please I want to buy Ampliclox". He said.
"Do you have bandage?" He asked almost immediately.
" Like someone has a sore on her leg and it is swelling up, can I use a bandage? He
said.
" Since you said "a sore", you have to open the wound to heal. She said.
"Okay" he replied nodding.
On getting home, he helds his mother's hand and this time he is surged to pray for her.
They made plans to go to another private clinic, the next day, the one Clinton was born
at. They get to the hospital. The doctor was not around. His assistant, a dark, tall lanky
man with noticeable cheekbones attended to her.
"Good day Ma" he said.
"Good afternoon" she replied " Please I am on appointment with Dr. Ted." She said.
" Is he around?" She asked.
" No Ma… he is not around Ma… he comes late on weekends, non-working days" he said.
"Okay" she said.
Please where is your ward? Anywhere I can rest. I am weak. She rested on the bed,
complaining of pain. Clinton massaged her legs with a Robb. She felt better at least and
slept. A fat, round man, stout man with a built-up stature, came in. He is Dr. Ted.
" Is this not Engineer Sheila? He asked rhetorically.
She fluttered her eyes open and tried to sit up, but she was laid to rest back by Dr Ted.
She does not reply. He cleaned her wound and wrapped it with a bandage to reduce the
swelling. He left allowing her to sleep. She was unable to sleep as the bandage has
become too tight on her leg as her leg swole up the more. Clinton called for Dr. Ted. He
unwrapped the bandage, blisters have erupted all over her leg. He used a needle to poke
the blisters(a blister caused on your skin after it touches something hot). He applied
Dermazin to the opened surface of the earlier blistered places to dry it up. The next day,
the blisters erupted in more places all over her feet(on the affected leg), this time, it
dripped a liquid that gave a sharp offensive odour. He referred her to a public hospital,
LASUTH, as her condition was beyond his ability being a medical practitioner. On getting
there, there was no bed space. So they gave her injection to stop the spread. They
referred her to LUTH, Idi-Araba. At LUTH, medicine students were gathered, two doctors
came to their car asking her questions pertaining to her sore
while another doctor checked her blood pressure and sugar—her blood pressure was
normal but her sugar is high. She was told to sit at passengers-wait while Ken, her elder
son paid for a ward. She was trolled into the private ward( it looked refurbished: it looked
more of a public ward). Very early the next day, the nurses looked for her vein, but they
were all hidden. The major nurse adviced Ken and Clinton to buy a central-lining which
would be channeled directly to her heart, as she had been needled severally with no
result of finding a vein. They buy the central-lining. As they entered the ward, another
doctor had found her vein. She was constantly on insulin and re-dehydration drips
majorly to rejuvenate her. She was preempted from eating anything till noon. At noon,
she was fed beans. The doctors told her go for an x-ray before they started treatments
proper. Clinton moved helter skelter looking for the prescribed drugs he could not find in
the regular private pharmacy. She complained of her in ability to breathe and see. The
x-ray test results of her legs and her heart would be out the next day, unspecified.
Florence gasped for breath as she slept. The duo doctors tried to resuscitate her using a
manual oxygen. One of them pressed a foamy ballon with an oxygen mask, the other
pressed her chest so hardly. Young medicine students were gathered watching. All of a
sudden, they stop and put a stethoscope in her chest. She is no more. They do not make
it apparent—they communicated it among themselves logically. They left Sheila's bed
space.
Clinton felt relieved—he knew they'll subsequently amputate her leg, in which he was
against of totally—Ken didn't mind if they amputated the leg, he was just after her life.
Clinton knew that the doctor's would resort to amputating her leg, causing pain and an
eternal sorrow to Sheila, his mother.