What’s a chapter of your life you’d titled “The Hard Years” — and what you got through it?
These are the days I spent in the hospital for examinations, X-rays, tests, and other procedures, such as taking pills and injections. Then came the surgery that shattered my life and turned it upside down. I will never forgive the surgeon, the professor, who practically executed me, amputating part of my anus and forcing me to defecate involuntarily. It was a shock that destroyed all my dreams and strength, leaving me paralyzed and unable to move except for necessities. Thank God I can walk, despite the chafing between my thighs, which bothers and aches whenever I move too much. I’m forbidden from visiting family and relatives because I have to carry diapers to change whenever needed. To make matters worse, the oncology institute in the capital refused to give me a medical certificate confirming my disability, fearing the scandal they had caused, whether by mistake or intentionally. I wrote to them, but they refused to accept the letter. The address was not found (the postman’s reply). The important thing is that… I’ve grown accustomed to my new life; it’s been nine years and a few months since the operation. I contacted the relevant authorities seeking justice, but to no avail. I asked the specialist for medical certificates, but again, to no avail. I entrusted my affairs to God.
That’s why I write occasionally, hoping to find a receptive audience through this platform. Finally, the Ministry of Health launched an online platform for submitting complaints, and I submitted mine this month. I’m still awaiting a satisfactory response. Goodbye.
