The 24th Dimension : Confessions of a 24 year old chai holic

By Gloria Mwaniga

The Mayans have already succeeded in casting a certain degree of gloominess over twenty twelve, this would be good enough, except some un-known forces decided it wouldn’t be so for me. Not without my doctor.
Like a good story, it began on the eve of the New Year. The Saturday before the Sunday that ushered in the leap year that ends on December 21st. I knew from the moment I rolled out of bed that the bacteria’s in my body had made a resolution to fight me to some bitter end which was still unknown to me then. Even so, my friends’ plea to take me to the nearest hospital was met with indifference on my part. I didn’t take sickness too seriously; after all, no one in my family is a doctor,
As you may be aware, the office in January, especially with your newly promoted colleague-turned boss, has a way of awakening all the sleeping illness in your body. Immediately I walked into that glass room and was politely asked why I was two minutes late, I made up my mind to ask for an off and go fight the bacteria within. Knowing too well that the one seated on the supervisor desk across from me would take much longer to fight. See I am a girl who likes to tackle my adversaries, one at a time.
So off I went to have my blood tested by this very reputable doctor on Jubilee plaza (and this isn’t about the jubilee advert that says as others bring papers, we bring flowers.)
The good doctor, after listening me repeat myself in a futile attempt of self-diagnosis, sent me off to his not-so- friendly lab assistant, who after skillfully ignoring my rather warm greetings, put my blood on some tickling machine that looks like one of those plastic omega watches we wore in class eight to save academic time, watches as it ticked rapidly then gives out a near- shout.
In the world I live in (at least the movie world) one always gets to be told two pieces of news, you even get to pick the order of receiving it, good or bad first. I didn’t have the luxury.
Aaai…Your brad sugar madam ,it s very high, the normor one is 7.5 yours is 8.1 ai madam and you rook young, wewe bado sasa utafanya aje(your blood sugar is very high madam, the normal level is 7, yours is an 8.5, yet you are very young, what are you going to do?).
Bad news can be pretty inevitable sometimes, but this kind of bad news was supposed to come when at sixty five, I would be holding the hand of my dear husband. As we somberly watched the doctors face to read the unvoiced emotion and quietly deliberate on who would be the first to fulfill the final part of our wedding vows (till death do us apart): not on a new year in the 24th year of my young life.
No matter how badly you hated exam time in school, there comes a time in a person’s life when a lot of questions pass through your mind. As I sat listening to the lab assistant turned health lecturer giving me a class on lifestyle diseases versus the youth of today, I kept asking myself why I had said no to Georges’ proposal to be my best friend and then marry me. It must have happened when I actually believed Destiny’s Child Survivor lyrics. And they are now married,, those liars.
The other question on my mind was whether the Mganga kutoka Tanzania in my neighborhood was actually able to punguza sukari (reduce blood sugar) like he claimed.

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