•Shares His COVID-19 Experience
Publisher of an Ibadan-based popular magazine, Parrot Xtra, Mr. Yinka Agboola is down with the dreaded coronavirus and this authoritative. In fact, Agboola, it was exclusively gathered is currently being isolated and being treated for COVID-19 at the University College Hospital (UCH), Ibadan.
The dandy publisher, it was also gathered, had been experiencing some funny symptoms which was mistaken for malaria symptoms for some weeks untill he was totally knocked down by the deadly virus on Tuesday 22 September 2020.
Agboola, who had been treating himself for malaria before that faithful Tuesday, is said to have collapsed and rushed to popular Teju Hospital in Ibadan, shortly after his radio programme, ‘Parrot Xtra Hour on radio’ on Space 90.1 FM, Ibadan, where he hosted the former Minister of Communications, Barr. Adebayo Shittu.
Those who watched live streaming of the programme on Facebook said Yinka Agboola was seen with discomfort written all over his face and vehemently coughing in the course of the interview session. His guts however failed him as he collapsed immediately after the programme and was rushed to the above-mentioned hospital, where he was kept in a special ward and treated for two days. He was to tactically be discharged on Thursday by the owner of the hospital, having sensed that what he was experiencing was related to COVID-19 and advised to go to UCH for proper treatment.
Sharing his experience in an appreciation note to those who have been supporting him since the beginning of his sickness, however, Agboola said he is one of those who never believed COVID-19 is real, especially in Nigeria. He has always seen it as a kind of conspiracy theory and means for some Nigerian politicians before he actually experienced it in its real terms.
“For four straight nights, I remained in serious crisis. I died thrice. I saw God,” Yinka Agboola said.
Going further on the shocking things he had gone through in the hands of COVID-19, he also revealed that, the coronavirus is not a child’s play. That having experienced it, it is in fact so deadly that everyone must regard it with every sense of responsibility and utmost caution. As he would have joined the number of people that have died as a result of the deadly virus but for divine intervention, he is alive to tell the story.
“September 15, 2020 was another day for our radio show and our guest was Abass Akande Obesere, one of Africa’s best who sings a heavily percussive brand of Fuji music. I had earlier sensed a tiny bit of fever which I readily put down to my rather stressful schedule. I should have promptly attended to my health but I decided to go ahead with the radio show in order not to disappoint the artiste and the teeming audience which had been primed to look forward to the edition. Off I went to the studio to host him, live.
After the show, I drove to the private hospital of a friend, Dr Abiodun Are in the same city for medical care. When he insisted I must wait to be comprehensively treated, I threw him a look that could fell an elephant- “Couldn’t he give me a prescription note to a Pharmacy Store for some quick-fix drugs?”, I demanded. He obliged most grudgingly. I took the prescribed drugs and in spite of the fact that my body gave signs that the drugs didn’t give the needed respite, I chose to keep pushing myself hard till the weekend when it became crystal clear that the wheels of the cart had stuck in quicksand and I could push no further.
I returned to Dr Are who, there and then insisted on me being clinically tested. A blood culture showed that my frail body had succumbed to three Malaria ‘pluses’. I was aghast. I allowed him to administer some injections but by Monday, 21st of September, I stopped all medications again. Why? It was time for another edition of our radio show during which I was meant to interview Mr. Adebayo Shittu, a lawyer and former Nigerian Minister of Communication. I barely cruised through the show before collapsing on Tuesday, September 22. I was rushed to Teju Specialist Hospital owned by a popular and veteran medical practitioner, Dr Yinka Griffin.
Upon arrival at the hospital, the experienced medical practitioner knew what the problem was as the symptoms were clearly written all over me. He promptly isolated me in a room where he personally came to attend to me urging me to allow myself to be subjected to COVID-19 test. Like a possessed man, I blew my top telling him that COVID-19 was not in my own dictionary. He silently walked away and kept me in his hospital doing his best and allowing me to still be on riot with my self-delusion about the non-existence of COVID-19. I had by then started experiencing fitful coughing which seemed to be graduating in intensity by the second.
On Thursday, September 24, Dr Griffin tactically discharged me, urging my darling wife, Oluwatoyin, to take me to the University College Hospital (UCH), where I am still on isolation even as I write this account. The rest, as they say, is story for another day. I was placed on oxygen and taken through the best possible treatment regime for my condition. From that Thursday till my results came on Saturday, I was managed and eventually taken to the Centre for Infectious Diseases for further virus-specific, comprehensive care.
For four straight nights, I remained in a serious crisis. I ‘died’ thrice. I saw God. COVID-19 showed itself to me in its most virulent form. I met and battled COVID-19 in its naked form. It attacked the entire faculties in my physiology to the extent that I would have gladly chosen death if I was asked to choose. I turned miserable, dejected and utterly despondent.
At a stage, I lapsed into amnesia as everything began to appear to me like a vast, undecipherable pool of mirage. I coughed on a permanent basis. I later felt as if one of my lungs was going to jump out of the hollow crevices of my belly. COVID-19 ravaged me. I met GOD. And He showed HIMSELF to me.
In those four turbulent nights, my doctors and nurses would carry out the protocols of recommended drugs and watch me from across a glass partition as I battled with my life and GOD. Even in my misery, I had no way of missing the transparent anxieties on their faces. My wife, of course, would stand petrified with unmistakable fear on her pretty face.
Each of them wished to help me beyond protocols but they just had nothing more to offer!. It was COVID-19, and nobody knew anything about what next line of medical action to take or what would happen if any attempt was made to ‘improvise’ outside stipulated protocols.
Some of them silently prayed and wept on my behalf. But GOD TOOK CONTROL. MY GOD TOOK CONTROL. ONLY GOD.
Though series of tests have indicated that I am still positive till date, I stand to testify that GOD has carried me through the valley of the shadow of death and has delivered me safely on the other side of life and light. He has inspired me on several other issues that will unfold presently. He allowed the virus to swirl me around but disallowed me from succumbing to its crushing grips despite my stance as a doubting Thomas. I hereby confess that my avowed disbelief was a dastardly combo of crass ignorance and irresponsibility!
God, however, made me to understand that COVID-19 will never leave mankind alone. It is HIS own way of telling us that HE IS GOD. It is a way of keeping governments (especially African) on their toes to always carry out their duties especially in terms of provision of primary health care to their helpless citizenry. The World Health Organisation and others should take note of this. Efforts should be geared towards how to build citizens’ immunity levels.”
– Dare Adeniran
