Chronicles of an Olodo (2)

This story happened when I was much younger and couldn’t differentiate between stupid and mad but I guess at that age they were the same to me. On that fateful Friday, I got the liberty from my parents to view the interesting Spiderman movie. Let me cut the crap, I bought a three hundred and fifty in one CD (Compact Disc) my people you know what I’m talking about.

For the first time in my life I actually saw a good outcome of the existence of spiders because I only knew spiders caused webs which increased my chores in the house. The movie made me realize that all I needed was a bite from a special spider and powers could be mine then I could jump from building to building in my red and blue pyjamas.
When I was done with the movie I decided to visit my neighbour’s house at one o’clock in the afternoon. There were two children in the house, the elder sister and the younger brother. I played there and suddenly something sparked up in my tiny brain which suggested to me to jump from an elevated part of the house to the ground, the elevated part wasn’t too high. The idea passed from my head to the younger brother and it was quite an amazing idea to both of us. We started jumping like the monkeys you see on Nat Geo Wild, we jumped then ran back inside to jump again. I never understood what the fun there was but I did it and was very happy. After my fifth jump, as I ran back up to jump again then some Spiderman movie scenes immediately flashed into my head and made me think of doing the next jump stylishly like Spiderman . I jumped crossing my legs, bent my middle and ring fingers then straightened my index and pinkie fingers like Spiderman did. Thought web was going to come out which made me pay too much attention to my hand and forgot I was in the air. Sadly it was too late before I realized I had jumped, I was on the ground and had injured my hand. The children around ran towards me to ask if I was alright, which I said I was because my little self was made to believe that men never felt pain. My left hand felt like it had been injected from different angles but I didn’t cry. Stood up with the hurting hand and ran to my house then slept for barely two hours before I woke up because the pain was unbearable. I managed to get out of bed then walked out of the house where I saw a neighbor I knew and explained my predicament to. He asked if he could help me massage the hand which I agreed to, as he started, the pain was immeasurable and I thought my hand was going to fall off my body. I dropped the key I was holding intentionally and asked him if I could pick it; he agreed which made me happy. As soon as he left my hand to pick it, I ran back home faster than Usain Bolt and locked the door so he couldn’t get in to massage my hand.
My mother got back from work that evening and asked me what was wrong because I wasn’t looking too good, I told her what happened then she asked what I had used for the hand. When I told her I hadn’t used anything, she wanted to cut off my head. At least if she gashed my head off, I won’t have felt pain from the hand anymore. She drove me to the hospital where my hand got bandaged and the pain subsided. I was asked to return the following day for x-ray.

Carefully wore my big blue shirt and big black pair of jeans (You know when your parents buy you clothes bigger than you and make you believe you would grow into the clothes). The doctor looked unpleasant as he called me into the room to view my x-ray result which he brought out from a big brown envelope. He said “Hmmmmm” then asked for my age which I told him and then said “we are going to cut off your hand” I Shouted “Haaaaaaaaaaa” like a Yoruba boy which I was. Tears slowly rolled down my eyes with words unable to explain how I felt. I thought of how I was going to play basketball and asked myself numerous questions, later accepted my fate that my left hand was going to leave my body. The doctor and I then walked into another room where I saw a pretty nurse who told me to sit down, immediately I looked around for the sharp equipment which would be used to cut my hand off. The pretty nurse asked me to straighten my hand and started wrapping stuff around my hand, in my mind I thought the hand cutting process had begun and was very scared. At that point I started screaming and shouted
“Jesus father
Daughter of Mary
Son of Jerusalem
Aunty of Jesus
Help me”

When she was done and I realized it was a plaster cast, I really wanted to shoot the doctor in my mind. I was so happy my hand wasn’t going get gashed off and my NBA dreams were still possible.