*  My 17-Day Dairy Inside Asokoro Isolation Centre - i

*   3 Days of Battling Demons Under Intensive Care...

Ogbeni Olawale Dawodu, Snr, Publisher of an online platform Paparrazzi ng.com. His mien is that of a born journalist - winding down after a hectic day at the Press Centre with friends. He is friendly, unassuming and down to earth. Suddenly, out of the blues, he came down with Coronavirus attack, resulting in 3 days in and out of consciousness....he tells a survivor's story. Coronavirus is real.....


* Wale in intensive care

The journey began in earnest when the Ambulance driver backed up the vehicle to the entrance of the Asokoro Special Treatment Clinic Complex at 11: 46pm on the 18th of May 2020. 

I was however  to wait in the van for another 20 minutes, perhaps for the doctors to get into their protective gears before admitting me. 

The door finally slid open and I was helped in by the team. The walk up the stairs to the first floor was laborious for me, as I was seriously gasping for air by the time I got to the first landing. I told them that I needed to rest to catch my breath. 

It is however interesting to note that, I was asked the moment I stepped into the building if they should wheel me in, but I refused the offer, still forming strongman and yet to come to terms with what I was dealing with.  

We eventually got to my assigned room! I took in my new surrounding in mild surprise. Sparkling clean, air conditioned with no hospital smell. If not for the medical gadgets and the small standard issued beds, you would think you're in a hotel room.

My head was still spinning, couldn't breathe properly and in acute pains as the doctors asked me several questions. 
"What's your name sir?" 
"Olawale Dawodu" 
"State of Origin?"
"Lagos State"...
Occupation?
"Journalist''...

My vitals was taken with the patients monitor machine nearby. 

At this point, the brilliant, amiable and experienced Dr Ahmadu Introduced himself to me as the lead consultant ( a genius in his chosen field and a former 2 term MD of Asokoro District Hospital, as I later found out). He was worried about my pulse rate and said my potassium level is too low. 

Are you hypertensive", he probed; "No, I replied. 
"Are you asthmatic?";  
"Yes", I responded. 
His mood suddenly changed through the tone of his voice to that of concern. He had a short conference with his team, i couldn't hear much of what he said to them, but I heard him say " we must treat his asthma first before the Covid can do more damage. He then asked if I was with my Ventolin. I nodded. He said good. " Use it now"!

I told him I was having serious difficulty with breathing. He prescribed some injections, just as he told his team to set up drip for me. 

I also told him I've lost sense of taste and smell with no appetite, after which he immediately instructed two members of the team to quickly get oxygen and set it up. 
They brought in a giant oxygen cylinder, 10 of which  I eventually used, aside 5 smaller ones before I stabilized and was eventually eased off oxygen support. 

As the night wore on, my condition became worse, but by divine intervention, the doctors were around when I had the first of the three asthma attacks. 

As you well know, asthma is a chronic lung condition that affects the airways and causes inflammation. This inflammation causes spasms and narrowing of the airways, which leads to wheezing, breathlessness, and coughing. Generally, when a person contracts a respiratory virus, the infection sets the body’s immune response in motion. In people with asthma, this can lead to an overproduction of substances that only worsen inflammation.

COVID-19 is slightly different. It causes an inflammatory process inside lung tissue rather than the usual bronchial inflammation that occurs in asthma. 

Respiratory viral infections, such as COVID-19, triggers and worsens asthma symptoms. it can also lead to pneumonia in people with moderate to severe asthma. 

It can easily lead to death.

As they battled to keep me conscious, I slid off into the abyss, a deep and bottomless chasm…

They came taunting, barring fangs, grotesque in shape and some in shapeless form. 
Since I got nothing to lose, it turned to a battle of survival. I took them headlong as I was being dragged down a dark hole, and I somehow, always managed to wriggle out from their grips and start floating back to the surface where I could see bright lights.

This tussle, this heavy fight seem to have lasted forever. If I defeat some, new ones will form to drag me down the hole again.

From the bottomless pit, something more primordial than life itself kicks in just at the nick of time before am dragged into total darkness. 

From the inner recess of my being, a voice shouts out NO! The voice constantly warned me of the consequences of giving in, abused me even, that I must man up. I then willed the much strength I could muster to extricate myself and start floating to the surface again.

I never knew that I was in Intensive care for three days as this was going on. I was oscillating between here and the thereafter.

I woke up to the steady but grating sound coming from the patient monitor with my right thumb clasped to its reader and oxygen mask strapped to my face.  
The day was Thursday 22nd May, 2020. As at that time I'd lost sense of time. I didn't even know, 
I thought it was a Tuesday!

To be continued...