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19th November, 2011
THIS CRAVING OF MY TONGUE: WORLD DIABETES DAY
There is nothing more boring than yesterday’s news! This is especially so for readers of columns such as this. And, by most accounts, “World Diabetes Day” [WDD] is old news! Mind you, it was only six days ago— 14 November — that balloons were flying, drums were being beaten and topless girls were performing before crowds of the good and the great in the name of WDD. The theme was “Diabetes Education and Prevention”.
This is not the place to ‘report’ goings-on during celebrations. GNA has seen to all that. Ditto this paper. Instead, now that all the balloons have burst from stress fatigue, and the dancers have all gone home, let us do a post-mortem. Let us interrogate the theme for this year’s WDD.
As always, the individual is the lord and master of this columnist. Yaw Berko, assembly man, and Doris Bampoe, school teacher, demand answers to two inconvenient questions.
Can education impact Yaw Berko’s diabetes? Can her knowledge of the disease really impact Lydia Bampoe’s efforts to help her unborn child?
Lydia, a diabetic herself, is six months pregnant. Two days ago, at the Jubilee Hospital, a scan showed that the foetus is a boy. [We are in the 21st Century.] In the Bampoe household that day, there was much jubilation and the flinging of roses.
TO THOSE WHO HAVE
The answer to Yaw Berko’s query will be found in the annals of Norbert Koomson, a lawyer. He is generally accepted as one of the best in the land. Corporate law, patents, intellectual property and such juicy parts of legal practice are his niche. Mr. Koomson is a diabetic. It was diagnosed 40 years back.
Like Johnie Walker, the man is still going strong, diabetes or no diabetes! He is now 80 and weighs 95kg. He treats his diabetes with a blend of respect and disdain.
A DISEASE DISDAINED
The secret ingredients of Mr Koomson’s disdain for diabetes are fourfold: light, light and light. Light No.2 = will power; light No.3 = common sense. The fourth ingredient is fire power. He actively assembles the most capable professionals to manage his diabetes. He has the fire power to pay the bills. He follows to the letter the dos and don’ts laid down by his ‘Harley Street’ team!
And, a veritable team it is, too! It consists of dieticians, physiotherapists and ‘diabetologists’. They are physicians who specialise in all things diabetes.
THE SAYINGS OF LAWYER KOOMSON
Lawyer Koomson used to say (in jest, or, in earnest, I know not which): “Why do folks pay for prescriptions which they plan to, taflatse, flush down the loo?” The lawyer himself gives the answers. “Common sense tells me that, taflatse that is idiotic! The advice of professionals might as well be set in stone. They deserve to be followed to the last z! If they say eat like a bird, a pick and no more, do so. If they say jog at dawn, do so. And, for good measure, jog at dusk also.”
A TOOTHLESS HOUND
Koomson’s diabetes became a toothless hound. The man has not changed his reading glasses for ages. His kidneys are in good working order. Ditto his brains, gut, heart and vessels in legs. In short, by obeying the rules on how to live with diabetes, Mr. Koomson has mocked the disease.
He has done so for over forty years, and counting. Of his will power, some say that he is bloody-minded. He exercises control over diabetes with the same grit as he pursues cases in court. He rarely loses arguments.
THE LATE STEVE JOBS
He has escaped the dreaded complications of diabetes. The illness itself is described with breath-snatching labels. Examples are ‘chronic’, ‘systemic’ and ‘incurable’. It is incurable save by means of transplanting an organ called the pancreas [sweet bread.] Rumour has it the late Steve Jobs, a man dedicated to the invention of beautiful machines, was a beneficiary of this beautifully complex procedure. But, where is Jobs now? True, the indication for Jobs’s transplantation job might have been something more sinister. But, the parallels remain parallel.
DO AS I DO
Lawyer Koomson can look Yaw Berko in the eye and declare: “If you want to live happily ever after with your diabetes, do as I do.’
LYDIA GOES INTO LABOUR
It was a premature labour. It was her first and her last. Lydia’s stomach was big as if carrying triplets at term. Unlike lawyer Koomson, Lydia had failed to rule her tongue. She lost control. Her craving for food and especially sweats became worse as her pregnancy progressed. Complications of diabetes set in one after another. The hospital admission was an emergency. So was the caesarean section.
YOUR WOMB, OR, YOUR LIFE
Jubilee Hospital had seen nothing like it before. Lydia’s boy was a colt! “It” weighed 12.5 kg. Pictures were taken for magazines. But, 24 hours later in the Intensive care Unit, little ‘Nicholas’ died. [“Every baby deserves a name.”]
Meanwhile, back in the recovery ward, another battle was being fought, and lost. Lydia’s womb turned into a soggy sack. Six litres of blood transfusion later, the choice became stark: Lydia’s womb, or, Lydia’s life.
NOT IN OUR STARS
That day, there was no jubilation at the Bampoes’. Lydia was grief-stricken when she found that, through her diabetes, she had lost son and womb, and, with that, her womanhood for good. She became inconsolable. On reflection, she concluded: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”
NO BLAME, PLEASE
This has not been the place to air stale news. Nor will it now become the forum for the blame game. But, can Lydia escape double jeopardy from her in-laws? Of being judged twice and condemned twice for the same ‘offense’?
Of course, when a diabetic fails to control her tongue, she has committed no offense. All the same, the ancients got it right. ‘This craving of my tongue is what’s now bearing me away.’ [“Minaa ni ngor mi ner, no ker mi yaa ner.”]
WE ARE UNDERLINGS
If you happen to be a diabetic, the odds are loaded against you. Nobody can deny that. Humans may be created underlings. For the control of diabetes, education is necessary. But, education alone is not sufficient. Ask Lydia. It requires also much self control. Read again the sayings of lawyer Koomson. Add this note from Shakespeare: “The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” Above all, come nearer home. Ask Lydia.
This is not the place to ‘report’ goings-on during celebrations. GNA has seen to all that. Ditto this paper. Instead, now that all the balloons have burst from stress fatigue, and the dancers have all gone home, let us do a post-mortem. Let us interrogate the theme for this year’s WDD.
As always, the individual is the lord and master of this columnist. Yaw Berko, assembly man, and Doris Bampoe, school teacher, demand answers to two inconvenient questions.
Can education impact Yaw Berko’s diabetes? Can her knowledge of the disease really impact Lydia Bampoe’s efforts to help her unborn child?
Lydia, a diabetic herself, is six months pregnant. Two days ago, at the Jubilee Hospital, a scan showed that the foetus is a boy. [We are in the 21st Century.] In the Bampoe household that day, there was much jubilation and the flinging of roses.
TO THOSE WHO HAVE
The answer to Yaw Berko’s query will be found in the annals of Norbert Koomson, a lawyer. He is generally accepted as one of the best in the land. Corporate law, patents, intellectual property and such juicy parts of legal practice are his niche. Mr. Koomson is a diabetic. It was diagnosed 40 years back.
Like Johnie Walker, the man is still going strong, diabetes or no diabetes! He is now 80 and weighs 95kg. He treats his diabetes with a blend of respect and disdain.
A DISEASE DISDAINED
The secret ingredients of Mr Koomson’s disdain for diabetes are fourfold: light, light and light. Light No.2 = will power; light No.3 = common sense. The fourth ingredient is fire power. He actively assembles the most capable professionals to manage his diabetes. He has the fire power to pay the bills. He follows to the letter the dos and don’ts laid down by his ‘Harley Street’ team!
And, a veritable team it is, too! It consists of dieticians, physiotherapists and ‘diabetologists’. They are physicians who specialise in all things diabetes.
THE SAYINGS OF LAWYER KOOMSON
Lawyer Koomson used to say (in jest, or, in earnest, I know not which): “Why do folks pay for prescriptions which they plan to, taflatse, flush down the loo?” The lawyer himself gives the answers. “Common sense tells me that, taflatse that is idiotic! The advice of professionals might as well be set in stone. They deserve to be followed to the last z! If they say eat like a bird, a pick and no more, do so. If they say jog at dawn, do so. And, for good measure, jog at dusk also.”
A TOOTHLESS HOUND
Koomson’s diabetes became a toothless hound. The man has not changed his reading glasses for ages. His kidneys are in good working order. Ditto his brains, gut, heart and vessels in legs. In short, by obeying the rules on how to live with diabetes, Mr. Koomson has mocked the disease.
He has done so for over forty years, and counting. Of his will power, some say that he is bloody-minded. He exercises control over diabetes with the same grit as he pursues cases in court. He rarely loses arguments.
THE LATE STEVE JOBS
He has escaped the dreaded complications of diabetes. The illness itself is described with breath-snatching labels. Examples are ‘chronic’, ‘systemic’ and ‘incurable’. It is incurable save by means of transplanting an organ called the pancreas [sweet bread.] Rumour has it the late Steve Jobs, a man dedicated to the invention of beautiful machines, was a beneficiary of this beautifully complex procedure. But, where is Jobs now? True, the indication for Jobs’s transplantation job might have been something more sinister. But, the parallels remain parallel.
DO AS I DO
Lawyer Koomson can look Yaw Berko in the eye and declare: “If you want to live happily ever after with your diabetes, do as I do.’
LYDIA GOES INTO LABOUR
It was a premature labour. It was her first and her last. Lydia’s stomach was big as if carrying triplets at term. Unlike lawyer Koomson, Lydia had failed to rule her tongue. She lost control. Her craving for food and especially sweats became worse as her pregnancy progressed. Complications of diabetes set in one after another. The hospital admission was an emergency. So was the caesarean section.
YOUR WOMB, OR, YOUR LIFE
Jubilee Hospital had seen nothing like it before. Lydia’s boy was a colt! “It” weighed 12.5 kg. Pictures were taken for magazines. But, 24 hours later in the Intensive care Unit, little ‘Nicholas’ died. [“Every baby deserves a name.”]
Meanwhile, back in the recovery ward, another battle was being fought, and lost. Lydia’s womb turned into a soggy sack. Six litres of blood transfusion later, the choice became stark: Lydia’s womb, or, Lydia’s life.
NOT IN OUR STARS
That day, there was no jubilation at the Bampoes’. Lydia was grief-stricken when she found that, through her diabetes, she had lost son and womb, and, with that, her womanhood for good. She became inconsolable. On reflection, she concluded: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”
NO BLAME, PLEASE
This has not been the place to air stale news. Nor will it now become the forum for the blame game. But, can Lydia escape double jeopardy from her in-laws? Of being judged twice and condemned twice for the same ‘offense’?
Of course, when a diabetic fails to control her tongue, she has committed no offense. All the same, the ancients got it right. ‘This craving of my tongue is what’s now bearing me away.’ [“Minaa ni ngor mi ner, no ker mi yaa ner.”]
WE ARE UNDERLINGS
If you happen to be a diabetic, the odds are loaded against you. Nobody can deny that. Humans may be created underlings. For the control of diabetes, education is necessary. But, education alone is not sufficient. Ask Lydia. It requires also much self control. Read again the sayings of lawyer Koomson. Add this note from Shakespeare: “The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” Above all, come nearer home. Ask Lydia.
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