"When I woke up, I had no nail! Like seriously! I had just got my nails done."

Darkness and silence. That's all there was. For over hours I was in darkness. Time stood still. Nothing happened.

I woke up in ICU on a Monday, intubated. There was just a lot going on. For a moment I didn't know what was happening. Then I saw 2 of my many parents standing over me. I knew I was going to be okay. There was so much concern in their eyes. I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes my grannies were sitting next to me.

When I woke up, I had no nail! Like seriously! I had just got my nails done. They were popping. All black with a pink ring finger. I loved them. And they just had to remove the pink nail...for one of the many machines. Oh well, moving on. I must say, with the tube going down my throat, I couldn't talk. I just looked at people like I was weird and it was at that moment I wished they could read minds. I could only nod or shake my head sideways.

And then there was the suction machine. Ugh... Every few minutes, a nurse would come by and use that thing on me. I couldn't swallow. It was horrible. I got so frustrated with the suctioning every few minutes that I did the unthinkable. I pulled out the tube that went down my throat and was helping me with breathing. Yes. I. Did. That. I was tired of it. It was uncomfortable and trying to swallow was a nightmare. My grannies looked horrified and I remember one of them saying, “they're going to put it back until tomorrow now.” I could not care less as long as I got to breath on my own for a little while.

Then of course I had to deal with the “sister-boss”, that is, the head nurse of the unit. She was fuming!!! I couldn't care less at the time because I was high on meds. I didn't blame her though. What I did was stupid and I really didn't think it through. It had to be done with caution and I could have hurt myself. Which I did. My throat was in so much pain for the next few weeks. I had visitors, tons of them all with that look in their eyes. Hours went by so fast, probably because I was sleeping for most of the afternoon. The shift changed and that meant getting answers to my questions. I could finally get down to what happened and how I came to be where I was; ICU and intubated and catheterised

and and and... the nurses were shocked to see me awake and talking. One of the nurses (Dude was really nice) came to check my vitals and we started talking.

Me: So, what really happened last night?

Him: When you came in, you weren't breathing. Your oxygen saturation was below 30% and normal saturation is 90% and above.

Imagine my shock. He then points at a doctor who has just walked in to check on his patient, I think. And he says to me, “You see this guy? He's the one who saved your life. He was there when you were brought in and he intubated you.” At that time, I only said a silent “Thank You Jesus.” But looking at it today, Time and Chance... that's all it was. It wasn't a coincidence that he was there. He had to be there to prevent a death, mine.

Mind-blowing, right! I know. God works in ways man cannot understand.

Him: Do you go to church?

Me: Yeah, I do. Why?

Him: Well, last night you were going. We didn't think you'd really make it. God really is good.

Again, I couldn't help being mind-blown. I was rendered speechless. And those who know me, know I'm never speechless On Tuesday, I had my very first dialysis session. I had to have a minor procedure to insert the catheter. I felt nothing. I was still stoned from the meds and I was dosing off when the doctor was working. Didn't feel the injections, the cuts, the sutures he put in, nothing. That's when the journey began. I was in hospital for a total of 2 weeks.

I have dialysis at that very hospital now. The unit is next to the ICU and every time “sister-boss” sees me, she greets me with that thing... Hmm. All I can say is I did what had to. I'm sticking to that truth.

P.S: a little inspiration