Mother's day...

Yesterday, I dreamt I was pregnant. I wasn't sad or scared, in fact I was totally overjoyed and had this insane protectiveness the whole dream. I wasn't one anymore, I was TWO!*sigh*  I told my friends and the first question was "who's the father?" I didn't know that piece of information ( wish I did!). My dream wasn't that descriptive. Now according to all my psychiatry friends, diagnosis: You've been around pregnant women all weekend, so a dream about your own pregnancy isn't that extraordinary.

A weekend full of pregnant women? Let me explain. This weekend was mother's weekend. Am not saying day because its not enough to cover appreciation for mothers. Actually it should be every day of the year! Well I volunteered to help out at Kikuyu hospital where we were meant to give support to any lady in labour help with the delivery. Of course there were gifts and flowers and ribbons for the new fathers ( unfortunately there were no fathers to speak of in the labor ward. Its really sad that most women give birth in the absence of their partners. You can't imagine how someone just needs that courageous word and hand with every excruciating painful hour. Sorry, I digress)

This wonderful initiative was organized by MAMM- Kenya. That is Medics against Maternal Mortality. The brain child of fourth year medics of University of Nairobi. Their website is www.mammkenya.wordpress.com for more information. It was aimed at different hospitals around Nairobi but I was placed in the group heading to Kikuyu hospital. Kikuyu Hospital is a mission hospital headed by PCEA. (If you want to know you're in Kikuyu, you'll start seeing so many signs with the PCEA logo). It was kinda a deja-vu moment. I schooled around there so it was like I had headed back to familiar territory. Like you run away from somewhere then you end up exactly where you started- full circle!

 Back to the hospital, its mission-run, very neat, organized and their maternity wing is quaint, clean and the so called "public wards"give you enough privacy. Its actually semi- private.And the hospital looked semi-deserted because it was the weekend! Seriously! Every doctor's dream. We'd be able to have lives outside the hospital! Their nursery is this lightly colored room with incubators that are state of the art (according to Kenyan standards). Their was little neonate in one of the incubators, so small and vulnerable. Breathing so fast into this baby-sized oxygen mask. It was sad to see such a little arm already hooked to IVs but if that's what will ensure you survive so be it. At times,after visiting hours, it would make this pitiful cries that were heartbreaking.Almost like a kitten's mew when its out in the cold looking for its mother. Other babies stayed with their moms, (already lucky and you don't even know it! ) so you basically have mom doing everything for you, and responding to your every cry.

There was only one lady in labour during my shift, lets call her Mrs.X. Mrs.X was still in the early stages of labour by the time we came in. We entered her little secluded bed area and the first thing she said "Now you can explain to me why  you were peeking at me through the curtain." I liked her instantly. Mrs.X is an accountant at some architecture firm whose name I've forgotten. She stays near Ruiru in the ICIPE compound. Her husband works there, she's just 'privileged to be offered accommodation'. Her words,not mine. See why I liked her? So labour began really kicking in at around 8pm and by that time we were about to leave. And she couldn't sit still because the pain only got worse. Her two wishes at the time were: 1.Her little girl to be born now! (which was still far off as she had only reached a 5cm dilation.) 2. There was a gym so that at least she could keep busy and distracted. A gym? hmm... maybe we should actually start thinking about that.. I asked the next group and they told me she gave birth at around 2 am. Hope wherever she is, she and her little girl are doing well.

We came back to rainy Nairobi from cold, cold Kikuyu. Home sweet home! I almost thought that we wouldn't make it because the matatu we were in,  ran out of fuel! (Story of another day) You see how EVERYONE is being affected by the fuel cartels government? What if we had been carrying a mother in labor? But the day had to end, and to end it did, with new friendships to boot. If it comes up again, I definitely will participate again! And hopefully actually see an actual delivery! According to my pal Sam they are quite gruesome and scary. I think he was exaggerating. Appreciate your mothers today. :-)

Of First Impressions...

Today I made a bad first impression. In my defence it was unknowingly. However it’s probably the best time to know someone- you catch them in their true colours. Anyway it all started with a book-saturated girl, a laptop and a series. Elaborate you say? Well I have a CAT tomorrow which is what I’ve been reading for this whole week. So today when I came from class, I removed my books and plopped them on my bed but for the life of me, I couldn’t make sense of anything. So... what to do, what to do?

The only thing I could think of, watch something! The series “Mad men” came to mind. Had it my laptop for sometime so I decided why not? Halfway through the episode and I remembered why I stopped watching it in the first place. The medieval treatment of women just gets to me! Its really pissing how women are more of beauty objects than equal partners. Am not saying it’s not a nice series, but...  I was really pissed at some point where Peggy realises that men at the Ad agency are only after one thing- sex. The shit they pull there can today get you sued for sexual harassment. All those idiotic boys kept passing by her desk making these suggestive glances and I could barely contain my disgust.

So there I was, with a screwed up face, glaring at my laptop screen and cursing each and every dude who passed by Peggy’s desk. Unknown to me at the time, one of my roommates was talking on the phone with some male friend of hers and he happened to overhear every “fuck you!” that spilled from my mouth. (My rage was that intense) So in between my tirade I suddenly hear, “D, say hi.”

“what?”

“Say hi.” A phone being suspended mid-air. I obliged.

“Yeah, that’s the girl who’s fucking.”

WHAT!!!!!!!!!!! First of all I wasn’t fucking anyone, I was merely saying the word ‘fuck’. Secondly, how do you just rub my reputation to the ground like that? Okay, we don’t know each other but you don’t know what the future holds!

Judging from their conversation afterwards, it was clear that he didn’t approve of such vulgar language coming from a girl. Probably most people will agree with him, how ladies don’t swear and shit. I think there’s freedom of expression, and if it involves a few vulgar words here and there then I should be left to express them to my heart’s content. If that offends you, the door is always open. Leave.

VIRGINITY

Wish when I was small someone had told me that being a virgin would begin to lose its lustre by the time I would reach my 20s. I was always the good girl from a young age, what mama said would go, no matter whether I agreed with it or not. Boys are people you should be wary of. Of course, before puberty, Boys were basically beneath you, those who basically played those ‘dirty rough games’. They were only good for one thing- to beat during exams. Boy did I ever glory in that! It was offensive for a dude to beat me in exams. Seriously?  A dude?  A girl beating me- a possibility.  A boy? Please! Are you trying to pull my leg?

Of course when puberty hit, the whole XY species metarmorphosized- at least in my own mind. I remember  my first crush- C. Anami. Class 5. He had recently been transferredto our school, and I thought he was truly cute- a worthy specimen from the rest of the other boys who had been around so far. Of course he didn’t know that, and I would rather have walked on hot coals than admit it. I had my pride you know, and I couldn’t stand the idea that some boy had a hold on me. He could have exploited me. I didn’t say it wasn’t foolish pride, or maybe I was being unusually perceptive?

I probably would have tried to move on to the next stage, trying the whole primary relationships, maybe make out a bit and let him try to get to second base.... until THE TALK. You all know what I’m talking about- keeping yourself pure and all that jazz, and how boys right now would just ruin any chance of a good future that you have. Oh yeah, and I was an empty jug, swallowing all this hook, line and sinker. My favourite was what my mother told me- your first boyfriend should be acquired once you hit the great steps of university. I know! University! I didn’t question it (this doesn’t mean I wasn’t sceptical) because after all mother knows best.

So this unrealistic medic went through life with that beautiful innocence. Of course there were some dudes I eyed but I never let it go too far. Though I never really admitted it, I was subconsciously waiting for my mom’s green light – University. And here we are and I’m in second year and I still haven’t even accomplished what my mom wanted, I enjoy singlehood too much. Gee Mom, Thanks?

But now that’s not even the real issue anymore. The thorn in my flesh and mind is that I’m a virgin.  Now before someone gawks till food falls from their mouth or they go like “It’s not a bad thing! ” Listen. I never had an issue with it, was really cool about it till I realised just how few we virgins are! But what’s worse is how everyone seems to think of you as a charity case! Like they’re all munching on this amazingly sweet and soft cake that is orgasmic (yes, orgasmic) to eat, and you’re missing out.

I recently turned 21 and guess what gift my friend Cara wanted to give me as a birthday present? You guessed it- birthday sex! Not from her, but she knew someone who she assured me would “give me the best first time ever!” Initial reaction- refusal and dismissal.  But no one refuses K that easily, so she’s been bugging me relentlessly. So I have to seriously think about it. And it’s still no. I want at least when the first time coitus does happen, at least I know you! Plus it would be a bonus if I trusted and you totally turned me on. And if God would be so kind as to make it be with someone I loved that would be divine. Roll your eyes as much as you want but I’m sticking to my guns. And even if he breaks my heart afterwards then let him, damn it! I‘ll go through the whole broken heart and mend it process if I have to, so be it.

Another pal of mine, Mary is busy going around saying how she’s a virgin and all that (she isn’t ) and its hilarious to watch the reactions of people when she tells them. Priceless! Candid ones always are. Most of them (all!) don’t believe her.  Now one answer hit, ahem! , below the belt. “Really? Basi saa hii si huko chini kumekuwa cartilage?” Ouch! That hurt! It wasn’t too long ago when people actually abstained till marriage, and that was beyond 21, so I’m pretty sure my vagina hasn’t calcified, it’s still viable! Right? Damn, I actually doubted. Doubted enough to want accept K’s offer. Then I remembered, am a freaking medic! These statements can be refuted or confirmed easily! I have enough textbooks, so no, it’s not true! :-P HA!!!!!!

Even if I wanted to lose my V-cardiem, it’s still not that easy. I used to think that most dudes would be tripping over themselves to bed a virgin. Ha! Another assumption knocked off. How, you ask? Well, it all happened one night when, I had had a little too much to drink and was in the midst of an intense make –out session. Or as my pals say “busy exchanging staphylococci”.  The type of session that you forget you’re in public. And this guy was doing amazing things to both my mouth and body. I didn’t mind- scratch that, I was enjoying this – till we were stopped by the bloody bouncer (cringe moment!). So anyway after that we got to talking (after sharing spit, it seemed like a decent thing to do) And we somehow stumbled on the virgin issue and he’s like...

B    : Oh, but you ain’t a virgin. *Shrugging his shoulder.*

Me:  And how do you know that?

B    : I just know. (Apparently when you’ve already slept with a few chicks, you know how to “tell”)

Me: But I am.

B    : Yeah right. *scoffs* (I’m still wondering whether this was an insult or compliment)

Me: Seriously.

B   : Oh. Well I don’t do virgins.

Me: Why not?

B   : *Just shrugs.*

And the story ended there. The virgin life- a tough one.  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Maybe I should get the white veil and join the church. At least there you have a perfectly valid reason to remain a virgin.

Of Pads and Tampons

What type of girl are you? Pads or tampons?

 I have friends who swear by tampons. Small, fits easily in your purse and some come in pretty little packets (Kortex). And you don’t get that feeling of a sudden rush of blood when you stand up, that makes you wanna check yourself ( I check, I check!) Easy disposal and the only extra thing you might need is a pantyliner.

And there’s the second group, the ones who give the tampon a wide berth and are stuck to their old pad ways. (By now you know which team I route for) Apparently they fear they’ll hurt themselves and their cervical walls or worse, break their hymen!

<That’s a load of bollocks because a tampon is too thin and small to do that task, besides it doesn’t go that far. As for pain, your walls are already being lubricated by blood so it slides in easily, painlessly. And it goes about its business without you feeling it. If you feel it, you put it wrongly.>

I think they also like it coz better the devil you know than the angel you don’t. That’s what mummy gave you on the day of your menarche and you’re sticking to it. This is fine by me, to each his own. Though how they stand that whoosh feeling in between their legs is beyond me. 

Earlier this week, my pal had an emergency and needed protection asap. I offered her what I had, tampons. She said no. Infact she gave me the ‘Are you serious?’ look and laughed thinking I was pranking her. She only stopped when she saw I was seriously giving her one and telling her how to insert it. That speedy ‘ no’  and how she went on with her search had me in stitches. Yaani you would rather go on for a few more minutes needing a pad while a tampon sits waiting patiently for you to use it? She almost buckled, to take my offer but then she ran off again and doubled her efforts, eventually succeeding.

And it dawned on me, are some women seriously scared of using tampons? Like if they stopped pad production and want the tampon route, even (dare I say it) Always, they’d be up in arms? Or they’d use pieces of cloth? And don’t tell me TSS (Toxic Shock Syndrome, in case you’re wondering.) Its a possibility not an inevitability, besides you just have to be hygienic with its usage. So are there tampon- phobic women out there? Or are you truly pad-philic?

Introdution

Or introducshizzo! Sorry, the thought just occurred. What am I apologizing for, its my own damn blog! If you have an issue, you can stuff it! Wouldn't be cool if we could always say that out loud? "Diana, I think you party too much." "Oh, stuff it!" So sweetly abrupt, Your very own 'mind your own damn business' . Okay and back to the main train of thought- Introduction.

God, I feel like am in a public speaking competition, standing before the adjudicators, before they ring that bell, and you can feel your throat slowly drying up and constricting....  So am new at this, and I am not sure if this was really a good idea or not, but I intend to see it through. I'm yet to decide whether I'll regularly post, or whether I'll add pictures. Whether it'll be about my day-to-day going ons or just personal reflections or a bit of both? I'm clueless and a bit scared, like the first time you go on the banana ride at Lunar park. You have an inkling that this ride may terrify you enough to make you wanna shit yourself but once you're on it, it is DEFINATELY delivering on that thought and more!

Anyway, I intend to have a go at this, possibly have fun with it. Plus prove to myself that i can actually finish what I start. Who knows, I might actually do this and it may teach me a thing or two.