My name is *Sabrina Fahdeddeen I am 25 years old and I was born with sickle cell anaemia (of course I was, it isn't a communicable dx or a dx that is acquired later on on life) all the same, I live with my aunt who is a working class lady and the only relative I have (who's willing to take care of me) she lost her daughter to sickle cell and then took me as hers when I lost both parents in an accident. She has taken very good care of me and shown me love and care exactly like my mother would. Last year, 2017 I had a major, major sickle cell crises while she was on a business trip overseas. It was the longest and toughest I have had in a long time. Actually before that I have not had crises in 6 years! I do not know if this counts as an experience of a sickle cell patient but I feel the need to say this as I have not been able to talk to anyone just yet.
When the crises started I sent my aunt a Whatsapp message informing her about it, since it was very late at night and there was nothing I could do except wait for morning. In the morning I went to the private clinic in which she registered us and I was attended to. In the clinic there was this particular Dr who never greeted patients, was rude and pompous and once I was passing by and heard him yelling at a helpless patient something about the patient setting his own line by himself. I was completely shocked. A few hospital visits later I found out his name and spoke to him politely about the first time I saw him and how he treated that patient. He kept trying to make excuses that some patients are annoying and frustrating. Well boss, I know. I am a patient and have been one forever. We try our best and trust me, the majority of us do not ever want to be in your consulting room nor emergency room. But here we are...like we say in pidgin English "na condition make crayfish bend" so you as a Dr or nurse MUST control yourself and be understanding, patient and tolerant. If we could set our IV lines, we would do so at home. If we knew the right drugs and doses to take we would take them at home, peacefully without bugging you or ourselves going to the hospital.
His name was Dr. *Halilu Abubakar and I talked to him about his treatment of patients and his need to develop more patience with them. He was the one who got to attend to me. I was admitted in a single room and the nurses and attendants were all kind and polite to me,checking on me and taking care of everything I needed before my aunt would return to take over. Dr. Halilu was also among those who would check on me between his rounds and clinic.
One evening while a new IV line had just been set for me on my foot and I was given double dose of pentazocine and half promethazine which all made me sleepy, sleep and generally sedated, and pain free, Dr Halilu came into my room and started putting his hands up my sleeping T-shirt and squeezing my breasts, he raised the T-shirt and started sucking my breasts as well. I would open my eyes and ask him to stop, tried to push him away but I could not make any sudden movements so as not to disrupt the IV fluid flow. I tried to scream as well but was so sleepy and weak all I could do was beg weakly between sleep for him to stop. He got beside me and put one of my hand on his penis. He continued like this for quite a while, I cannot say how long, but he finally got up and left. He came back the next day while I was in the same condition and did the same thing. It was terrible and this time I cried begging him with tears to stop but still couldn't make enough sound to attract attention. Finally he left. He came back the third day but I was on very little pentazocine so I was not sleepy or as week. I screamed out when I saw him step into the room. I screamed for him to get out and he kept trying to calm me. But I kept yelling "get out! Get out!" until he finally did.
I was in the hospital for about two weeks, my Aunt had returned, continued taking care of me till I was discharged. He never came back to see me. After being discharged I went for followup clinic and I saw him. I confronted him, asked him why he did what he did and he said it was to help me feel better. I was stunned, and asked which part of medicine were they taught to sexually touch a helpless person who was asking and begging for it to stop ? He just kept insisting he wanted me to feel better. I had to walk away from him but I will never forgive him not forget.
NB: *All names have been changed to protect the privacy of story teller
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