I’m a medical doctor. Ghanaian Doctors have two first, broad options just like in most places worldwide: Physician or Surgeon. Simply put, a question of whether you’re more comfortable in the Consulting Room or the Operating Room. Without going too far into the nitty gritty of those options, let me just say that it’s the first question I ask junior colleagues when they’re almost through with their mandatory rotations through Housemanship and feel confused as to what path to take in terms of choosing a future specialty to focus on – “Are you a Surgeon or a Physician?” Answering it is the first real step in figuring out which path to take and believe it or nor, even an answer of “I’m not sure” has a direction in which it’s pointing the person. Basically, I’m asking them “Who do you think you are?”

Now the thing here is that I, in particular, am a Surgeon by blood – literally & figuratively. I come alive in the OR and I survive through most of the less exciting consulting room work because it’s preparing both the patient & me for the OR in a significant number of cases. I’ve leant towards Obstetrics & Gynaecology though and the most common surgical procedure there is the Caesarean Section. Done in time and properly, you save both the baby and mother in one fell swoop and even if she doesn’t bother to say “Doctor, thank you!” at the end of the day (like most do), it helps you sleep at night because you know you did your best that day.

window - hourglassIn the effort to become better however, we time ourselves because our proficiency with the procedure may be evidenced to how fast you finish the operation – the underlying Truth, however, is that it’s better to take too long and not have to open up again because you messed up, than to finish at record speed with further complications on your hands!

In training someone to perform a Caesarean Section, it’s often important to teach how to get to the baby and deliver it in record time – under a minute preferably – because most reasons for a C/S involve a dire need to deliver the baby in haste. It’s very rewarding to deliver a baby in mere seconds, but with time you realise that it may be responsible for actually lengthening your total operating time! How?? In entering the abdomen and uterus for delivery, you have different options on how and where to cut but cutting wrongly, while it will result in quick delivery, is more than likely to cause you to have one hell of a time in closing up afterward!

In my short time supervising people learning under me, I’ve come across both types of people – those obsessed with a short operating time, and those dedicated to the Method. Considering the number of times I had to be called to try and fix some error or the other made by both categories, I’d say the former make the wrong choice every time. This realisation got me thinking as I tried to get better at my work since I began. Read More The Window or The Door? You Decide…

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anger - thoughtWhenever I decide to write, I spend a little time in thought to set me off. I pick a thought out of the maelstrom of ideas swirling through my mind daily and let the words fall as they should. The easiest ball to set rolling, however, is that which stems from either recent experiences or unfinished thoughts and conversations.

I, however, find myself needing to vent today, just get a few things off my chest that are causing havoc upstairs here. It’s not because of a lack of topics, though – I mean, I did take the famed Mr. Kwashie’s tailored suit out this weekend and I believe my social status appreciated by at least 35-54% at that beautiful wedding *wink* *wink*; I was in Accra and couldn’t say hi to all the people I was supposed to meet up with because I was busy (for which I’ll be apologizing profusely over the next few weeks to months, I’m sure); and then I discovered the joys of night travel on a bus between Sunyani and Accra (as long as you don’t have the middle backseat and a man next to you doesn’t politely ask that you allow his 7-year old to lie on a cloth in front of y’all so she can sleep…! Yes, that’s another typically Ghanaian long story…!) Read More The 5 Stages in Making Lemonade…!

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There was a time when everybody understood that Love was serious business: none (okay, very few) would play with it. People generally said what they meant and meant what they said so even common utterances weren’t to be taken for granted, thoughtless of using the big ‘L’…

say it 1But now, every third monkey uses the word Love, not even as it was meant to be used, but just as one other word in their repertoire for getting what they want. We have come to despise the honest use of the word because it has been abased by charlatans and is indeed safer to deny its truth immediately than to accept even the slightest of possibilities that it could be true; because it’s been proven more often than not be false – thank you Liar Liar… Love has NOTHING to do with selfishness…

Read More Say It Loud!

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I think what I learnt most from Mr. Kwashie was what knowing your significant other afforded: a front-row seat to learning their Character, and building Friendship.

Character won’t really change by the way – more often than not, what you see is really what you get. Maya Angelou really knew what she was talking about here:kwashie2 - believe them

I jokingly told someone that not all relationships were held together by Love – “…some are held together only by Carpentry!” …and it Works!

Since time immemorial, people have gotten together in relationships and marriage for a slew of reasons – familial interests or edict, procreation to ensure continuance of a bloodline, peace between families or tribes, access to water rights, ‘legitimate’ sexual intercourse, bragging rights, boredom, “too long a relationship not to marry him/her” – I really could go on and on but I’m sure you get my drift by now. Read More A Stitch in Time & Your Best Friend!

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Inspiration strikes at the oddest places sometimes you know – like during your second stanza of 2Baba’s “African Queen”; or between Questions 2 & 3 of your insanely tough Internal Assessment; or when you’re in the middle of early morning ministration on the ceramic ..er..throne…

Kwashie_suitMine struck me just this past Saturday at Kwashie Tailors in Osu (yes, I may shall be doing some shameless indirect advertising here, forgive me, but ɔyɛ good o!). I was there with some friends specifically for a suit fitting to be done. I’ll confess here that this was the very first fitting I’d gone for in my life and I was impressed (but as usual, I digress).

The proprietor, Mr. Kwashie, was an interesting man with a ready smile on his face giving the first impression of a man who is satisfied with where life has brought him so far on his 60-something year long journey with no current objections on the course he’d charted so far.

Now, as I was telling someone recently, one thing that lets me know that I’m growing nowadays is how I look forward to discussions with my elders. I remember the absolute chore it seemed to me to listen to my late grandmother’s tales of her time as a girl in the Convent, and how she had little family that cared for her, and how her parents passed away, and how she planned since childhood to become a nun and…yeah, I usually blanked out somewhere about then. Sometimes now, I wish she was still around to tell me some things about life – maybe my walk would be smoother and I wouldn’t be entangling myself with unnecessary things that bind – but again, I digress. Forgive. Read More A Stitch in Time and the Hidden Dangers of Fruit Salad!

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Every day draws us further into our future and further away from our past. As I also keep saying, “the mistakes you make in your early 20’s have far more grievous consequences in your later 20’s“. If you’re going to toe the line the majority will, sooner or later you’re going to become someone’s wife or husband. I’ve also come to see that we put so much effort into preparing to get married that we fail to realise that we’ve put in zilch effort into being married, by the time we are married…and that’s one surefire recipe for disaster, guys (more on that in another post down the line though).  Ladies, ever been taken home to Mama before? Did you pass?? Oh, you didn’t realise it was a test?! Like seriously?? *Whew* Then read on – everybody does well with some apor after all 😉

 

I’m writing from this angle because I’m… *sigh* (I know this will get me into a lot of trouble but I’m going to say it In This Context Alone and then it is Finished…!) I am Mama’s boy. I’m the last born and the only son of my mother so you’ve got to believe me when I say I’ve got some right (or is it responsibility?) to write this today. I sometimes write stuff that needs to be said too – and heard – at least once in your life by a close friend (whom you’ll hopefully believe…but I digress).

My attention was drawn to an old piece I wrote some time ago –  about who a Lady was – by a friend of mine a week ago and as I went through it all over again my Muse started whispering in my ear. She asked me a simple question: “What next?” Read More Taking Her Home to Mama

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So…I’d have sung a song to melt your hearts to convince you to forgive me once again, but this is too serious of a matter to outsource to comedy so I trashed that idea.

 

Comeback _ whisperI woke up yesterday morning with the once-familiar voice whispering in my ears and I shot up out of my convalescent bed and started typing quickly before my Muse could decide to vanish abruptly again, as she has in the past few months.

For the first time in a long time, I managed to finish a piece in record time but I decided to talk to Benjy first to sort out another issue before posting it. That was when he drew my attention to the necessity for this particular piece to come out before the one I penned yesterday. Read More Let’s Try This Again…

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So I’ve got this friend of mine who’s such a brilliant writer eh…! :)  Anyway, she wrote this piece last week that managed to jolt me out of the doldrums and set me going this week with a rejoinder—>  Papi 

It might help if you zipped over to her blog real quick before continuing here. No worries, I’ll wait 😉 #TeleTuesdays reperesenting!

 

He tossed from side to side in bed…well at least he made the motions as if to do so, as much as he was able to. The high density orthopaedic mattress was playing havoc with his back once again. He’d called for the nurse only a few minutes before and she’d only just left after pulling the window blinds shut as he asked so he was a bit reluctant to call her back so soon.

Sighing, he mused to himself at how his busy life as the successful head of an Accounting Consultancy firm was now reduced to a preoccupation with the mundane…like window blinds, ambient room temperature, and mattresses…

He closed his eyes wearily as he tried to position himself a bit more comfortably, willing himself to fall asleep again. He’d asked for sleeping pills before but the doctor calmly but firmly refused his request – there was no need to turn him into an addict while care was ongoing, he’d said drily. He didn’t know how to tell the physician that it would be the best thing that could happen to him if only the memories he could never shake awake didn’t transform into the nightmares he couldn’t escape from whenever he fitfully managed to sleep at last. To him, dreamless sleep was now bliss

He didn’t even realise he’d managed to fall asleep until a noise woke him up – a noise and the dry scratchy sensation of thirst in his throat. It sounded as if someone had sat in the chair by his bedside. Still groggy, he wet his lips before speaking in a half whisper.

“Water…can I have some water?”

“Sure, let me get the nurse for you.”

He could barely contain the snarl in his voice as he shook his head, forcing his eyes to focus on Konadu.

“What are you doing here? Haven’t you punished me enough?!”

“Oh my dear husband, don’t talk like that. You know you’re my everything…” The mocking lilt in her voice betrayed her amusement.

He turned his head to the plain wall at his bedside away from her, gnashing his teeth in frustration… Read More About Papi…

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Hi y’all. #TeleTuesdays had to take an unceremonious break due to some personal affairs I had to take care of and an impromptu journey to the Fatherland. Allow me to appease you with an interlude from our scheduled Appointment –  Chris & Adjoa. A simple story that isn’t as farfetched or separate from reality as you think…enjoy.

 

 

For different people it starts differently – a twinge or just a feeling of emptiness that doesn’t go away after a while.

The thoughts behind it start building up until the symptoms also become more pronounced – some people begin to hyperventilate, others develop severe headaches, but far and wide the most common symptoms are felt in the chest. It’s a tightening, twisting, dull throbbing ache that won’t let up. It usually surprises the victims that something which was initially purely emotional could manifest so strongly physically.

 

heartbrk2Chris, 27yrs of age and having just passed the Bar exam, was elated for all of 5 minutes when Adjoa came to meet him for a late dinner at an exclusive eatery he’d recently discovered. He’d known it was cheesy but had gone ahead against his best friend Kobby’s advice and had a customised silver promise ring made so he could surprise her with it just at this moment. He’d have gone for an engagement ring straight up but he hadn’t yet spoken to Mrs. Yankyera – her mother – so he didn’t want to offend her by jumping the gun according to Ghanaian standards.

Unfortunately, this euphoric state of mind could simply not compete with the invisible punch to his solar plexus that was currently preventing him from taking the next breath of air as she watched him quizzically. He replayed the words over in his head one more time “Ummm Chris, I know you have something important to tell me as you hinted, but please let me go first…I don’t think we’re on the same page anymore and frankly you’re such a good guy that I can’t bear to waste your time anymore so I’d like for us to call it quits. What do you think?Read More The Anatomy of a Heartbreak

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When I was much younger, I had one thought that kept me calm in the face of wild dog attacks. As I walked through their kingdom to the porch of that fine area girl i was crushing on, I’d hear their sinister growl and notice them looking like they’re not looking –through the corner of their eyes.

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Herh Rambo! I’m the ooollldddeeerrr!!

The playful house-help would say “Herh Rambo!” and dismiss it as if nothing could go wrong. “Chain the bloody hound!” my head screamed “what if Rambo goes gaga?! Huh, whose tiaps were on the line?” But I had to show face. I had to master the art of walking briskly without seeming like I was running. I had to hide my fright without insulting the dog’s wildness.

Then when she left me in the porch to go get Phyllis, and Rambo called out my spirit with his throaty growl, I’d think Read More Goldinwords Has Armpit Hair! [Voice Note]

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