Imperfection series - Part 5: Do I eat my own vomit?

Good Morning people. This is the final entry in this series. So sit back, and enjoy.

There was a time I began to suspect that I had four stomachs, just like a ruminant animal. Here's why. I have rumination syndrome. I was born with it. I know just one person in my family with it, a maternal cousin.

When I was young, they would say "stop bringing out your food, to rechew." I caught my cousin do the same, from time to time. Family members thought it was a habit, and not a condition.

Okay, let me explain the condition now. When I eat, I have to regurgitate over and over again before the food can get to the stomach, and then be digested. It is not a conscious thing. When they taught us about ruminant animals in senior secondary school Agriculture, I began to think I had a cow's stomach, cos it seemed I 'chew my cud.'

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You could just be sitting down, and find food in your mouth, lol. It happens few minutes after one finish eating, like 30 minutes or so. It is not vomit, it is just food that has been mixed with saliva. As for vomit, the food gets to the stomach, mixes with bile, and something triggers it to come out, which is why it is bitter. As for rumination syndrome, the food never reaches the stomach, and it is just pure food that comes out.

As one grows older, it reduces because, and might only happen when one is alone, and not interacting with others, because talking is an activity that can suppress it. If it doesn't come out for about 90 minutes, the food will go down to the stomach. It has no cure, and one can live with it. Obviously, I am still alive. They have not be able to discover the reason why some people are born with this syndrome.

Anyway, that's my last imperfection. I regurgitate and rechew my food over and over again. That's the rumination syndrome for you.

So out of all my imperfections, which is the weirdest to you, my scars, regurgitation, neck breakouts, fainting spells, or my open bite?

I hope you have enjoyed my imperfection series. If you missed any post in this series, click here to catch up on them.

Imperfection series - Part 4: I only wear pure gold

People like me can only use pure gold, lol. Anyway, have you heard of people who only use pure gold or silver, or else they would break out in rashes? Strange right? Do you think they are pompous? Well, sorry o. I am one of those people. I’m sure you have not noticed, but if you observe my pictures, you will see that my neck and wrist are always bare -No jewelleries. And if you see and jewellery, it is a pure gold one I borrowed from my mum.

It was at a young age I discovered that I react on my wrist, but most especially my neck, and not just to impure jewelleries only. Once anything touches my neck, air deposits on it, and turns to moisture, I break out. Even when my hair was relaxed and long, if I dare to let it down, I would break out.

If you touch my neck, and anything from your hand deposits on it, I break out. Even if you just wink at my neck, I break out. Once I break out, it takes about three weeks for the break out to dry up, that is if I have not broken out again. By now, you would realise that it was almost impossible for me to maintain a smooth neck. My neck was constantly covered with rashes, because let’s face it, even though I wasn’t using jewellery, or letting my hair down, how possible is it for dust not to settle on an exposed part of our bodies? Even if I were a turtle neck to cover my neck, the cloth touching my neck would still cause me to break out because of the heat and sweat. Remember the moisture is what actually reacts with the particle, and causes me to break out.

One day, in late 2012, I just told myself I can’t go on like this. I had gone for a Spoken Word TV recording, and the rashes were so bad and obvious. I was dressed to the tooth, shoe on point, hair on point, but my neck was just the dent in my appearance.

I went home that day, and looked at my wardrobe. I saw one triple action cream, which claimed to fight inflammation, fungi, and bacteria. It is called Funbact-A. It had been given to me about a year earlier, in the hospital. Anyway, I used this cream, and it dried out my rashes. Previously, I just used to wait for the rashes to dry out itself, if it ever gets to dry out. Not only did it dry out my rashes, it prevented further break out caused by dust and moisture. There was a time I went to the UK, and forgot my Funbact-A at home. See how break out attacked my neck again. Now that I found a solution, I can’t afford to play with it. The good thing is that it is so cheap, N200, and last for long, since it is just for my neck.

Of course, I still can’t use jewelleries that are not pure gold or silver, but at least, I can maintain a smooth neck, and not carry an embarrassing skin around.

So if you were thinking of buying jewellery for me, make sure it is pure gold or silver. That way, I don’t have to go around bare-neck, or borrow my mum’s jewellery. You can even take it a notch higher and buy me platinum or diamond.

P.S: I am in no way a representative of Funbact-A tube cream, neither do I have any affiliations with them. I have not been contacted by them, or paid to do this post. I just mentioned what I did to overcome the imperfection of mine. For more post on my imperfection series, click here.

Imperfection series - Part 3: I don’t want to faint

It all started when I was in my 300 level. I had fallen very ill just after exams. When I went home, I was still quite ill, but I had to go to school to submit my Civil Engineering work book. So in my sickness, I managed to drag myself to school. The plan was to just drop the book with the staff in the lab, and go back home.

When I got down from the bus that dropped me in school, I was walking to my faculty, and started getting weaker, and weaker. By the time I was in front of Mariere hall, I had started stumbling, and I had to find a dirty slab to sit on. One guy upstairs, who would later become a small-time TV personality saw me, came down, and lectured me about how he saw me stumbling before I finally succumbed, and the dangers of abortion, and why I shouldn’t do it again. Nonsense. I that made a vow to keep myself till marriage, one guy sees me stumbling, and concludes I just had an abortion. God dey sha. Anyway, I digress.

That day was my first incident of hypoglycaemia attack. That thing is bad, trust me. Even though it doesn’t kill, it can disgrace. It normally happens when I have stressed myself a bit, or when I am ill (I hardly fall ill). It is when the blood sugar level suddenly drops, and you begin to feel dizzy, stumble, and eventually faint if you don’t sit down. It is the opposite of those things that affect diabetes patient, i.e. too much sugar in their blood. This one is too low sugar.

I said it is a disgrace because when it happens, you must sit down, or lie down, to regain energy, or drink water or put something in your mouth. You must sit down or lie down. No option. So the thing is I start looking for a place to sit, begging people, can I sit in your shop for 5 minutes? I would then rest for ten minutes, walk, and beg again after when it descends, until I finally get home to find my bed. I would do anything I could, in order not to faint, cos you would actually feel yourself descending to the fainting level. I didn’t want a case when I would hit my head on any dangerous thing, fall in the middle of the road, or have people rob me because I fainted in front of strangers, and became unconscious.

The only time I fainted was during NYSC, and I was jogging. One minute, I was jogging, and started becoming weak, the next minute, people were all over me, reviving me. I wasn’t even conscious of when it happened.

I have sat in shops, at pepper-seller benches, on dry slabs, with my leg inside dry gutters. One time, I kept stopping and sitting at different places, that I got to the beginning of my street, entered the local clinic because I knew they had a staircase. I walked to their staircase, and lied down on it for like 10 minutes. The discomfort did not matter to me. I just laid there, and prayed no nurse or doctor would catch me there. I hate hospitals, and the owner is my mum’s friend. I didn’t want any panic incident. After 10 minutes, I felt I had regained enough energy to walk home, which was like 10 houses away. However, after about 4 houses, I couldn’t continue. I had started stumbling again. I walked to the stand of the pepper-seller, sat on her bench, and begged the girl to give me 5 naira pure water, that I would send the money to her later. All dignity had been stripped off o. The girl was kind of alarmed, because she did not know what would make me sit on her bench, and then beg. She looked at me, and immediately gave me the water. I was weak and almost gone, and everyone could see. After drinking the water, I regained enough strength to walk to my house, which was just few houses away.

Unfortunately, someone had seen me, and went to report the incident to my mum. She and my mum called me. I smiled, and brushed it off. Right in front of my mum, the woman insisted that I must take care of myself, because what she saw wasn’t good. In my mind, I was like “see this alakoba woman, reporting me.”

That was the last time it happened sha, because a few days later, I started driving, and it means I don’t walk continuously again. I only walk when I have to go to the bank, and I don’t feel like driving.
So that’s hypoglycaemia for you. That thing is just a very disgraceful something.


Imperfection series - Part 2: No closeness

So I promised to continue the imperfection series today, after introducing it last week. I hope you all enjoy this episode.

When I was about five years old, my grandmother discovered it. And here's how. At Christmas period, she used to line all her grandkids up, and brush their teeth with charcoal before we are allowed to use toothpaste, by ourselves. I guess you didn't know charcoal made teeth white, tight? Anyway, when brushing my teeth, she would say "clench your teeth, clench your teeth" in Yoruba. I would reply saying "I am clenching my teeth" yet many of the charcoal would enter my mouth. After looking well, we discovered that Atilola's teeth don’t close.

I have open bite.

I'm sure you are like "what's that?"

It means I cannot really bite.

Still confused? In short, my incisors and canine don't meet.

Ideally, I shouldn't be able to pronounce words with t, s, and other letters which involves the use of the front teeth, since mine aren't really functional. Many open with open bite have a speech impediment, but I have been able to manipulate my mouth, to make sure that's not the case with me, although I wasn't conscious of my adjustment. I guess it just grew with me.

I find a way to distort my lips and tongues, to make sure I can pronounce some words. As for the, lips, I push it out, and cover my dentition with it. Of course, I didn't know I used to do this, until I started seeing myself speak. To understand a bit of what I am talking about, look to the right, and you will see a video saying ‘watch society’s victim.’ You don’t need to watch the video. Just take a look at the still cover picture, and see the position of my lips. Of course, you might not notice when I’m talking because my lips are in constant motion.

As for the tongue, at first, it might look like a lisp, but when you look well, you will know it is not.

To correct an open bite that wasn't developed by habit, it requires heavy, intense, and long- term surgery. I ain't got time for all that, and I earn part of my income from performing with my mouth. I'm not sure I can sacrifice two years for my jawbone to be constantly shifted. Also, the dentist said since I was to adjust to the condition well, I don't have to go through the procedure.

Anyway, that’s one part of my physiology which is imperfect. I hope you get to enjoy next week’s own.

Bonus: I have a silver tooth, although it is not visible, because it is a premolar. I installed it two months ago when my filling cracked, and I had to get a new tooth. I wanted gold, but it was too expensive for my pocket, so I opted for silver.