Hello Everyone, this is the second and last part of Dr Babito, do enjoy!!
About the featured image, I’m a huge fun of Grey’s Anatomy and just thought to share * winks *
I don’t drink…or more correctly I very rarely drink but since I already earned the reputation as the class drunk or more extensively ‘the drunk of the college of Medicine’ I let it pass, there was no point of defending myself. In the beginning I had tried endlessly to defend myself but it didn’t work. Babito and drunk seemed mutually inclusive and firmly etched in everybody’s mind. I had no redemption.
After we finished the Psychiatry syllabus, we began Obstetrics and Gynecology. We started the lecture with enthusiasm, the highest point in Medical school as told by our predecessors was said to be O &G where you get to hear and talk about the vagina unabashedly without being accused of vulgarism.
Just the first day of classes the V-word was mentioned about thirty times, I unconsciously calculated it. Thirty whole times, it seemed so exciting…it was like venturing into forbidden town. Finally I and my goons could mention it without girls making that annoying face and saying ‘Babito that’s vulgar.’ As the days went by, the novelty began to wear off, the word had lost all its tingle and I began to notice that some of the lecturers seemed to enjoy using the V-word even when it was needless.
Abeg why dem no get Peniology or Phallusology. Somebody should study that very important weapon. The urologists ain’t doing enough studying mbok. It deserves to be a course on its own. Peniology and Phallusology might not be the most appropriate titles but I’m certain if they decide to make it a course they will definitely come up with something fitting.
The O&G consultants are a haughty bunch, they seem to think they know the vagina in-toto…na lie joo. They drill us like sergeants expecting us to spend eight hours in class and also be available if there’s any surgery. I remember one night, at about 9.45pm, my roommate was celebrating his birthday and had bought drinks and suya for everyone. We were all in the process of getting wasted when I got a call from my Obstetrics Consultant that he had a surgery in 15 minutes and wanted all of us to be there. For some unknown possibly perverse reason the man had picked me to lead the group so there was no way I could miss the surgery-our first Caesarean section.
In the space of six minutes I had posted the news on my groups Whatsapp page, brushed my teeth, showered and was dressing up while chucking a handful of fried ground nuts into my mouth.
“You sure say you go see road?” Kunle my friend asks, slurring the question. He was lucky to be in another group if not e for bad for am.
“Why I no go see road?” I throw back. Of all days to have an emergency C-section, the day I had decided to get as high as I could. I pack my scrubs in a knapsack and fling it over my shoulder. The alcohol gives wings to my feet as I fly through poorly lit paths to the theatre, on the way I run into some of my group members-Ola, Kris and Janet and together we hurry down. The patient is already inside, we change into our scrubs and hurriedly and take our places beside the bed. Her pointed belly pierced the airspace as she lay there already drifting off as the anesthesiologist had already done her work.
“And they are here,” my Consultant Dr Badmus said as he entered the theatre, his arms were stretched out before him to avoid contaminating his already scrubbed hands. He takes his place beside the woman and adjusts her drapes, then wordlessly stretches out his right hand and the surgical nurse placed a 10 blade on his palms. With his gloved finger hovering a few inches from her skin he points at the spot where he would make the incision.
“What is this point called?” he asks. He looked at us from one nervous face to the other, his beady eyes blinking rapidly in the glaring white light. “Babito,” he specifies, turning to me.
I look at him and at his crooked index finger hovering above the point as if goading me to remember and I blurt, “Mc Burney’s point.”
He throws back his head and laughs, the tinkling sound muffled by his very thick face mask. The assisting nurses join him, even my other group members. He laughs so hard that I imagine sound rousing the woman from her anesthetic slumber.
“I don’t blame you,” he said at last. “At least you were bold enough in your answer not like your group members cowering in their combined ignorance and timidity. Moreover it’s your first Caesarean section.” He points at it, “This is the supra-pubic region, its better because there’s less scaring.”
I nod and smile, Dr Badmus is known for insults but at least he hadn’t insulted me. I was already wondering how in the world I would live down the gaffe. I once had a friend-Joe. During our first Surgery posting, the surgeon had asked him to palpate a patient’s spleen and he had said, ‘I palpated the left and right spleen’. The entire call room had erupted in a boisterous laughter and he was never able to live down that faux pas.
Humans have only one spleen but he had been so nervous and had blurted, ’Right and left spleen.’ The good thing was that he left our school for one rich people’s school in the Caribbean’s. That was five years ago, up till now Joe is only remembered as ‘Right and Left spleen.’ I already had the title of the College drunk. I can’t add ‘Mc Burney’s point’ to it too.
Luckily it didn’t leave the room.
Enough of the nostalgia, I am off to conquer the world as Dr Chidiebere Walters a.k.a Babito.
Warning: Don’t laugh too much, I might be your Doctor.
Silence!! Silence please… That’s good and then Drum rolls!!!!!!
And for my next post, I will be putting up a story by Othuke Ominiabohs, Author of Odufa and Conspiracy of Ravens, he was Shortlisted for ANA … I’m so excited about this story. I read it and was totally blown away. I hope you enjoy it too. So wait for it.
Don’t forget to drop your thoughts and comments.