Close button
The Guardian
Email YouTube Facebook Instagram Twitter WhatsApp

Hair scattering’ moments…


Have you ever experienced the CONFUSION that results from having the bottle of a CHERISHED perfume drop from your hand?
…and it’s broken?

Honestly, next to the “hair scattering” experience of not knowing where you kept a car/house key (when running late) is that of staring at the broken bottle of a favourite perfume on the floor.

I don’t know about you but the first thing that came to mind was HOW NOT TO LET THE PERFUME THAT IS ALREADY SPLASHED ON THE FLOOR WASTE further.


I mean, the last thing you want to do is clean it off…just like that!

If you have a choice… you won’t mop that floor so soon.

The floor-brush used for sweeping off the broken bottle pieces will be converted to ‘air freshener’ of the house for days.

On the day that this happened to me, the impulse was to reach for any clothes in sight and just dump them on the spot where the perfume splattered.

I mean, you just want to minimize your loss.

…then the fear of broken bottle pieces stopped me in my track.

Just as the drama was ending, a friend stopped by. On hearing about the broken bottle of perfume,
the shout of ‘‘heeeiii!!!’’ from her would make whoever that’s within earshot think someone has died.

There and then, I realised that I am not the only candidate for the ‘hair scattering’ experience of such moments. We are many!

A friend said that she was rushing out of the house when she decided to stop by the children’s room to give her little tot (a six months old baby) a quick hug.

The nanny had just finished bathing the baby and yet to put on her diapers.

That ‘quick stop over’ ended up earning her another 45 minutes at home…still deciding on what to wear to a meeting that she was already late to.
…because baby peed real good on her and a change of cloth had to be initiated.

We all know how ‘hair scattering’ a last minute NECESSITATED change of cloth can be…especially when you never envisaged the need for a plan B.

When you are new in town, one of the major issues to take care of is to identity a good hospital and get registered with them…in case of an emergency.

Otherwise, this is an environment where ‘getting a registration card’ seems more important to some hospitals than whatever ‘emergency’ that you are battling.

So, I had one of such moments and a friend who works at the Teaching hospital asked me to come over. Thanks to her influence…everything went pretty fast (and stress-free) until I got to the final stage…seeing the consultant.

I was seated at the waiting area when two guys in a lab coat approached me with a pen and paper.

They began to ask the usual ‘familiarization’ questions and all that.

As much as my ‘feelings’ dictated otherwise…I flowed with them politely. But when I looked at the paper they were holding and noticed that it had sections B and C and we were not halfway through section A.


The speed with which they left me alone still amuses me till this day. I would later learn they were medical students doing their practical.

I am reminded again of my nightmare some years back when I had a particularly excruciating toothache and found myself at the LUTH.


When I was ushered into an ‘examining room’, I was so sure that a consultant would be with me in a jiffy! For where?

I only knew what hit me when about five of their students descended on me, converting me into a lab rat of sorts. Then suddenly, a figure arrived in the premises and most of them began to scurry away. I just found my break!

I went straight to him (with tears in my eyes) and told him about my ordeal …
*Being in pains,
*Not being attended to…while everybody felt comfortable using me as a lab rat in that condition.

The man was miffed.

In my presence, he sent for the supposed consultant (a woman) on duty…alongside a few of her assistants and CHEWED OFF their ears real good.

He told them that it was most insensitive and unethical to make someone in such a discomforting situation wait a minute longer…if it can be helped.

I would later learn that this my saviour of that day goes by the name- Dr. Shabba or so. He is quadriplegic. Whoever knows him should please tell him that his intervention of that day is still appreciated till this day.

The whole experience taught me a FIRST HAND lesson about our Teaching Hospitals.

Although quite affordable, but in an emergency, they can be a FRUSTRATING place to find oneself in!

In this article:
Receive News Alerts on Whatsapp: +2348136370421

No comments yet