Kumbukumbu- An Appreciation Post

Here are Your Flowers.

Today, I am here to present flowers. I will give you flowers while you live, as I wish you a long life to experience God's goodness.

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

A Puncture, Repair, Puncture, and Tragedy

That fateful Tuesday. I should have listened to the inner voice. Sometimes, hiccups happen to warn us about impending danger. It is usually God telling us to pause and think before we act. Two consecutive tire punctures that morning should have been enough reason to cancel the cycling plan that day. Changing the usual 42-kilometer route for a shorter 30-kilometer option seemed reasonable for a day that none of us was in the best shape to cycle. However, we still decided to cycle.

As I tagged behind my friends Benjamin and Engineer Kanyi, I decided to cycle at my pace but not lose sight of the two, who were enjoying a catchup and a chit-chat. Kanyi joined us on this unique Tuesday to experience our early-in-the-week ride before we went to work. As fate would have it, he would be the God-sent angel in the ordeal that found me.

It was all smooth until around the twelfth kilometer when disaster struck. All I can recall was feeling unstable, like someone battling strong winds. I was losing control of my bicycle, and I was unstable.

Next, I woke up to the sight of strangers asking me to sip water and spit blood out of my mouth. There was a sharp pain in my right hand near the shoulder.

At that moment, my phone rang. It was well tacked in my bib’s pocket, but I couldn't reach it. A good Samaritan helped me pull it out; on the other end was Benjamin. I explained that I had crashed just at the corner, sloping down near the old, isolated houses. Benja was in panic mode!

As I waited for Benjamin and Kanyi to arrive, the motorbike rider and a few other people had already engineered a solution to my situation. I could vaguely hear them suggesting to taking me to a nearby dispensary for first aid. Another one suggested I leave my bicycle at the house to pick it up later when I recover. I remember clearly refusing this idea. I wanted to be with my bicycle wherever they would take me 😂.

The good Samaritans helped me up onto the motorcycle, with my bicycle between the rider and myself and my left hand holding onto the right arm at the elbow like a baby. Slowly, we started moving up the small hill to the dispensary.

It didn't take much time, and Benjamin and Kanyi arrived to find me in wreathing pain. I was holding my shoulder, bending on my right, while blood was dripping from somewhere near the elbow. I also had a torn short and bruises on my right thigh.

A Bina Moment!

We had stopped next to the entrance of Migaa, where my friends further assessed the situation and made quick decisions after noticing my situation may have been dire. The decision to go to the dispensary was called off and settled for a direct drive to Agha Khan Hospital. Calling AMREF Flying Doctors would take longer than Bina driving to Migaa.

Off I was helped into Bina’s car, with an improvised sling holding my shoulder and arm together, and pain getting into my nerves as the accident’s numbness waned away.

On the way to the hospital, I noticed my right wrist and a few fingers were swelling, too. My mind told me that it could be more than a sprain. The distance between Migaa and Agha Khan felt short as Bina put her 4*4 to a proper test. She could make an excellent emergency rescuer, given her prompt responsiveness.

I found doctors and nurses waiting for me at the A&E section, having received prior communication from the clinical Benjamin. As Benjamin handed over to Kanyi, I'd witnessed the preciseness and thoroughness of the Engineer as he weaved his way through the hospital corridors to ensure everything went swiftly and I got the best care possible. I was taken through different scans and X-rays after first aid was administered at the reception point.

At the A&E, waiting for radiography results.

An Engineer’s Precision

Kanyi had taken the duty of informing my family and friends about my status, and they quickly thronged me into the Agha Khan emergency wards and helped me wait for the radiography results. Muli was particularly instrumental in relieving Kanyi of some duties.

The results confirmed the worst, as much as they did the best. I had a broken humerus and dislocated shoulder but an intact elbow and no head injuries except for minor cracks to the sinuses. The rest were bodily bruises.

The shoulder was reduced under local anesthesia, while the extent of the humerus fractures called for an operation. I'd be returned to the X-ray room to confirm the shoulder reduction, a point at which Kanyi’s recommended orthopedic, Dr. Mordecai, would advise on the next phase of treatment.

I had pointed out to the doctor that the wrist was still swollen and painful and had not been scanned during the first radiography. The second radiography procedure confirmed a wrist fracture and a minor fracture on the middle finger of the left hand. Was this life trying to show me the middle finger?

It was clear that I'd be taken in for surgery, which would have to be done the next day. I would be admitted for this to happen. Kanyi and Benjamin had taken charge of all this, while numerous other cycling friends had milled in and waited with me until I was given a ward.

The last friend by my bedside, William, would leave the hospital at around 11 at night when I was fully settled in the ward and under the watchful eyes of the well-trained nurses at Agha Khan.

4 Hours in the Unknown

The next morning and throughout the day, painkillers and antibiotics were administered to keep me at ease for the operation scheduled at 3 in the afternoon. I'd had a very early breakfast to prepare for the same.

My family and numerous other friends had also come to see me, while others who'd gotten the news of my ordeal had called in to check on me. Their presence helped me to shift my focus away from my first major surgery. I was eager but tense to go through this and get it behind me.

A sigh of relief hit me when Dr. Mordecai finally checked in, briefed me, and reassured me that all would be well. I was whisked to the waiting bay, ready for theater. When my turn to the operation room came, the last thing I recall was the chit-chat with the doctors and the theater nurses as I lay facing up and surrendering to the anesthetist. Knowing that family and friends prayed for me throughout the procedure, my heart was comforted.

About four or five hours later, I woke up to the bright light of the recovery room. I could feel a numb but intact shoulder, a bandaged elbow, and a wrist on a splint. Nurse Jackie would then help me back to my ward, ensure I was comfortable, and continue to check on me and administer various drugs.

I spent the next two nights in the hospital under the careful eye of the nurses and doctors, interacting with my ward mates and receiving friends and family who were ever so kind to me. My cycling family never missed a day at the hospital.

Watching other patients with similar or worse conditions like broken legs, among other bodily traumas, was a trauma in itself. I'd started longing to go home by the second day's end.

Discharged!

Finally, the doctor wrote my discharge note, and Benjamin and Kanyi, the brotherly duo, oversaw the discharge process, including settling the bill. I bid farewell to the friends I'd made at the hospital, both patients and nurses, and wished them well in their recovery.

Kanyi finally eased me into his Lexus at the parking lot, and off we left for home. I vividly remember him assuring me not to check the bill and wait until I got home and settled down. After all, I was already out of the hospital in one piece, and the bill was the last thing I should worry about.

We were received warmly at home, with gladness that I'd returned home to recover in a familiar environment. Kanyi and Benjamin had taken total care of me. I was coming back home in one piece on this Friday afternoon, just like I'd left on Tuesday morning. I only had injuries and pain to cure, which I was ready to recover from.

We exchanged some pleasantries with Kanyi, got my hospital bill and receipts from him as he left, and off the journey of recovery at home started.

Rehabilitation and Recovery

What would follow was a long journey of weekly outpatient clinics, wound dressing, and carrying a black sling and a squishy blue ball to keep blood flowing in my right hand.

I struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position, having to sleep seated facing up, anchored by a mountain of pillows, and enduring the waning paracetamol in my body. Truly, the first two weeks of recovery were horrible.

I could not find enough sleep sleeping in the same unnatural position for too long, plus I'd get haunted by nightmares of what had gone through. I couldn't wrap my head around what had really caused the accident. I needed closure, but I wasn't coming close to finding it.

It was after about a fortnight when James and Simon drove me to ground zero, where I discovered that I had hit a slight, almost invisible pothole on a downhill, causing me to lose balance and control of the bicycle and leaving me with three major body scars, all on my right side of the body.

I must have landed on the right side of the body. In panic, I must have applied front brakes and flew over the bicycle onto the rough asphalt. The cleats on the right shoe must have failed to disengage, making me lose balance and control and land on the right side. That was it. I'd achieved closure. The nightmares were gone for good. Miraculous, right?

The wound dressing would take me about eight weeks, twice a week and then once weekly as healing progressed. After removing the sling on week five, Mandvi of Inspire Wellness started taking me through physiotherapy rehabilitation for the next two months.

I recovered from being unable to lift a 0.5 ml water bottle to lifting nearly 20 kg of weight. Proper care at home, complemented with a month of gobbling camel bones’ soup generously sourced by Benja, went a long way in my recovery. After about eight weeks, I also managed to take a full shower, having survived a "passport” showering of essential parts. 😂.

Learning to use my hand again at Inspire Wellness.

I would receive droves of people through this process, some coming to pray with me, others to check on me and keep me busy, and others calling and texting to cheer me up.

Joseph and James had mobilized friends and family to raise money to foot a huge bill that came with this disaster.

Two years later, I have fully recovered and resumed physical activities. All my limbs are functional now. I have since hiked over 15 mountains, ran two half marathons, and covered hundreds of kilometers of running and walking.

You can read my experience of walking 10 hours non-stop here. You can also learn what I learned after running 5 kilometers daily for 30 days here.

Presenting the Flowers

The long post was a preamble to the main post, which is about acknowledging and thanking everyone, whether afar or near, who came through for me in one way or another.

Just like Mordecai, your names have been listed in my book of remembrance. I will always remember you fondly and pray for you as well as come through for you just like you did for me. Your acts of kindness to me will linger forever.

I will mention your names in this article so that you remain etched in the books of remembrance. I have tried my best to remember everyone, but should your name be missing, you can always chat with me, and I'll edit to include you.

To those who didn't get an opportunity to come through for me for one reason or another, rest assured your good deeds to others out there also count. Do not get weary of doing good.

In My Book…

Before everyone else, I would like to thank the Almighty God for preserving me through the accident and carrying me to full recovery. God gave me a second chance at life and brought all of you into my life for a purpose.

My book of remembrance enlists the boda boda rider who had to abandon the passenger he was carrying to attend to me first. The boda boda customer who agreed pause his journey and help me first, the neighbors at ground zero, Benjamin, Kanyi, and Bina, as well as your families, I am forever indebted to you. May your cup be filled all the time.

Vien, Benson, Neema, Purity, Zuri, Francis, Amani, Stephen, Daina, John, Moffat, and all that pertain to you, may you be blessed for sticking together for and with me.

Muli, Kahora, Ithondeka, Kibiko, Khamisi, Mboroto, Maviti, Macho Red, Allan, J. Mbithi, Fawzan, and Sang. COVID-19 brought us together for a purpose. You are distinguished men.

William, Janet, Muigai, Bahai, Mathew, and Titus, you will always be remembered for your instrumental mobilization role. You put up a united front.

Ridgeways 2014, you are gentlemen of honor. You remained true to the welfare call. You will go far due to your unity. I am proud to be associated with you.

Kaggz 2003 class, you pulled such a surprise on me. Your generosity was unexpected, thanks to Ezekiel, Jorum, Kabia, Henry, and others who took note that one of them was in need. You exemplified Kabao's spirit. Gentlemen of consolidated intellect.

Githaka, Mutuma, Faith, Mwende, Asiago, Lorna, Doty, Nyawira, and Gaichu, you showed what belonging to the Biomed family means. I am truly grateful for responding to the call.

George, Marianne, and Mbira thank you for empathizing with my situation. Our passion, their future.

Msando, Kanda, and Taprandich, you were more than kind for coming to see me in hospital.

Mugo Gatimu, Njogu, Davison, Edu, Newton, Munyao, Kaguongo S, Wairegi, Ngare S, Gordan, Wachira S, Joy, Jacinta, Idza, and Mugo Patrick, thank you for representing the Atemi solidly. Aya matiui kuhotwo ni ta ki.

E. Muthoni, C. Wanjiku, E. Mukuhi, Sheekow, A. Lime, Damaris, C. Nyambura, Dibo, Cheryl, Edmond, Pendo, Mbeca, Joan, Robert, Naome, Wambugu J, J. Nyang’or, Abigail, Agnes, Melody, Macharia, Lekisaat, Kihamba R, Yego, Wanjohi, Chege, Zipporah, Ngamlana, and Esther. May God replenish and fill you until you overflow.

Thank you for representing the Iron Mark: Divine, Wamonje, Susan, Mwau, Nderitu Xado, Carl, Agent Smith, Edward, and Wanini.

Mainza, Melba, Collins, and the Gathus, you were closer than I ever imagined.

Thank you, Eupa Wanjiku, for working with me to achieve full health through your physiotherapy sessions that I continue to attend.

To everyone else who I have not listed but took time to empathize with me even much later, thank you so much for allowing yourself to feel my pain and suffering. May you continue being sensitive to people's needs.

The Itching Question

I know the itching question is: "Have you gone cycling again?" Maybe a part of this whole experience that I did not share is that while there were broken bones, the bicycle was left intact. If that was not enough clue that it needed me back on it, then I don't know what else it meant.

On 27-09-2023, yesterday if you are reading this article on its publication date, I hopped on the bicycle and did my first road cycling. I had a great time on the bike, including fighting the fear of crashing when going down the road.

I had to keep telling myself I got this, even as I clinched onto the brakes. The winds were not helping much as they were quite strong and rekindled the exact moment I went down. My 22-kilometer ride ended with a flat tire, but not no accident this time. I can't wait to double and triple that distance soon.

Photo by Sydney Rae on Unsplash

We must confront the demons in our heads head-on!

Take Aways

Be Compassionate, especially to the Living.

People nowadays will offer condolences in death faster than they'll offer compassion in life- A quote by an anonymous author.

Go Beyond Tragedies.

God gives you another chance after a tragedy for a reason. Don’t cave to the trauma of tragedies.

Be Appreciative.

People don’t owe you anything in life. So, appreciate those who come through for you and don’t feel entitled to people’s help.

Be sensitive to people's needs.

Numb the self and listen to the cries of those around you. Be sensitive to people’s needs in how you talk, think, and act towards them.

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Benediction

May the King lack sleep because of your good deed.

When He orders for the book of the chronicles to be brought and read to Him, may He find this Kumbukumbu.

May He honor and recognize you for being good to me (Esther Chapter 6). May the King delight in honoring you.

May your enemies be impaled on the high poles they set up for you. May your enemies be annihilated.

When did we ever see you sick... and visit you? I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me! (Matthew 40).

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Finally, I welcome comments, feedback, and any other form of engagement on this article. I look forward to hearing from you.