Funny Experience In A Nigerian Hospital
-
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital. My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded." I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit. After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name. Thank God, I thought. Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP. "Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling. She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up. I was not surprised to say the least. Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab. Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills. When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer. Ose baddest doctor!!! "So what is wrong with you?" He asked. "That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here." No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital. "Fever." I replied. For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids! A cancerous fever. God Forbids! A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!! Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!! But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is, "All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA." Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies. "How is it doing you?" He asked. Na wa o. See question. I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said, "Its doing me somehow oh." "You have headache?" "No" "Loss of appetite?" "I guess." "Cough?" "No." "Cold?" "Small." He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed. *sigh* As usual. Don't we all? It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of q
-
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital. My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded." I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit. After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name. Thank God, I thought. Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP. "Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling. She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up. I was not surprised to say the least. Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab. Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills. When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer. Ose baddest doctor!!! "So what is wrong with you?" He asked. "That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here." No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital. "Fever." I replied. For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids! A cancerous fever. God Forbids! A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!! Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!! But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is, "All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA." Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies. "How is it doing you?" He asked. Na wa o. See question. I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said, "Its doing me somehow oh." "You have headache?" "No" "Loss of appetite?" "I guess." "Cough?" "No." "Cold?" "Small." He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed. *sigh* As usual. Don't we all? It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of q
This is enjoyable writing, but why not credit the source which is the blog of (supposedly) a Nigerian young woman named Naija: [^]. Please note that her blog essay has a copyright notice.
«OOP to me means only messaging, local retention and protection and hiding of state-process, and extreme late-binding of all things. » Alan Kay's clarification on what he meant by the term "Object" in "Object-Oriented Programming."
-
This is enjoyable writing, but why not credit the source which is the blog of (supposedly) a Nigerian young woman named Naija: [^]. Please note that her blog essay has a copyright notice.
«OOP to me means only messaging, local retention and protection and hiding of state-process, and extreme late-binding of all things. » Alan Kay's clarification on what he meant by the term "Object" in "Object-Oriented Programming."
I acknowledge the write up isn't mine by putting "#copied" at the end, but seriously never heard of the blog. I saw it somewhere else on the net who didn't acknowledge the source! I will make amend now. Thanks PS: Her name is not Naija, Naija is Nigerian Pidgin English[^] for Nigeria!
-
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital. My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded." I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit. After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name. Thank God, I thought. Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP. "Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling. She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up. I was not surprised to say the least. Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab. Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills. When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer. Ose baddest doctor!!! "So what is wrong with you?" He asked. "That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here." No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital. "Fever." I replied. For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids! A cancerous fever. God Forbids! A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!! Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!! But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is, "All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA." Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies. "How is it doing you?" He asked. Na wa o. See question. I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said, "Its doing me somehow oh." "You have headache?" "No" "Loss of appetite?" "I guess." "Cough?" "No." "Cold?" "Small." He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed. *sigh* As usual. Don't we all? It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of q
-
Mid last week, my temperature was running high and since I am clearly not a fan of hospitals, I thought it was best to limit myself to the confines of my room until the sickness disappears but my mom was having none of that. She dragged me to the hospital. My first reaction when I got there was "WTH! This is crowded." I signed up for a medical consultation and found a place to sit. After 3 hours of waiting, the bad tempered nurse at the reception area called my name. Thank God, I thought. Before she let me into the doctor's office, she put me on a height scale, weight scale and proceeded to pump my BP. "Nurse, Its just fever not a modelling audition. Are all these necessary?" I asked giggling. She frowned at me and increased the pressure till the friction numbed my arms. That was her way of telling me to shut the hell up. I was not surprised to say the least. Its no news some Nigerian female nurses are far from polite. Especially those ones with big buttocks that are always roaming from ward to ward with a tray of injections, looking for an innocent patient to stab. Like someone said on twitter, its only in Nigeria the nurses would wake you up from sleep to give you sleeping pills. When I got into the examination room, I was expecting some sort of gadget to be used on me but everything was done MANUALLY. The doctor even used his palm to gauge my temperature rather than a thermometer. Ose baddest doctor!!! "So what is wrong with you?" He asked. "That is your job doctor. If I knew I wouldn't be here." No, that was not my reply. Clearly in Nigerian hospitals, you are expected to diagnose your problem in your house so you don't waste the doctor's time at the hospital. "Fever." I replied. For all I know it could be a fever disguising as TB. God Forbids! A cancerous fever. God Forbids! A brain tumour fever. God Forbids!! Ebola Fever. God Forbids!!! But no, not in our hospitals. The first rule they operate in is, "All facts surrounding a fever must be twisted and twisted until the final diagnosis reads MALARIA." Now I made his job easier, he began manipulating my replies. "How is it doing you?" He asked. Na wa o. See question. I used my palm to massaged my chin for a few seconds and then I said, "Its doing me somehow oh." "You have headache?" "No" "Loss of appetite?" "I guess." "Cough?" "No." "Cold?" "Small." He turned to my mom this time. "Madam, she has malaria!" He exclaimed. *sigh* As usual. Don't we all? It seemed he forgot to ask me when last I saw my period in his line of q
Y'know, I really couldn't be bothered reading such a long text... X| Besides, I still haven't received the money from Nigeria they promised me the last time I did it... :sigh:
Anything that is unrelated to elephants is irrelephant
Anonymous
-----
The problem with quotes on the internet is that you can never tell if they're genuine
Winston Churchill, 1944
-----
I'd just like a chance to prove that money can't make me happy.
Me, all the time -
Y'know, I really couldn't be bothered reading such a long text... X| Besides, I still haven't received the money from Nigeria they promised me the last time I did it... :sigh:
Anything that is unrelated to elephants is irrelephant
Anonymous
-----
The problem with quotes on the internet is that you can never tell if they're genuine
Winston Churchill, 1944
-----
I'd just like a chance to prove that money can't make me happy.
Me, all the timeWait, I promised you some cash? Oh, send your ATM card and PIN number to me, I will
_credit_your account.