Gathige wrote:2012 wrote:I remember when we were kids one packet of medicine syrup or tablet is what we got. Now when I take my kid or I go to hospital myself, I leave with a manila paperbag full. Kenchic uses a smaller paper to pack a meal. What happened? Did immunity increase or medicine got weaker or more money is made this way?
@2012, Some tablets were so powerful ,one had to be divided into four parts with a dose of like a quarter per day! Nowadays u see pple swallow like a handful of tablets at a go u may think they want to daze an elephant. There was a lethal one called suta capsules and one needed to pretend to be collapsing for the shopkeeper aka village pharmacist to sell to you.
Haki those were the days.
injuries gotten from playing football were treated by a heavy beating and a strong dose of hot salted water.
Later we graduated to gee vee (hated that stuff it made your scar crack)
halafu baadaye kumwaga antibiotic capsule powder on the wound
haki ya mama.
I remember it resulted in us hiding our injuries from our mum to avoid the beating and salted water.
But the colds and coughs were the ones
we dreaded going to the local dispensary for treatment.
Shindano to us little kids was a thing to be feared.
In those days the prefered method of treatment was injection straight to the buttocks.
you should have seen us.
walking to the dispensary playful while at the same fearful of the injection.
Long queues of sick children surprising running around, playing with each other.
As far as i could tell grown ups never seemed to get sick.
Then the roll call to know your ultimate destination this was after seeing the doctor.
Roll call
Mwangi, otieno, koech, Amina, kwa dawa shouts the nurse.
- unakuja na chupa
- pimiwa dawa.
- go
that was a relief.
roll call ojwang,ngilu,zuleka kwa injection the nurse announces remorselessly.
knees begin to shake
voices break
we plea for mercy,
we enter the room and watch as those huge brass/copper syringes boil in water.
They were a sight to behold.
I wish i could get pictures of them.
we used to think that the dispensary were using syringes made for injecting cows or donkeys not humans
we could not believe humans had created such cruel instruments to torture us.
Then the struggle begins.
pulling by the shirt collar and ears by our mother as we enter the injection room,
slap behind the head,
bend over
strip the short
PAP! SHINDANO
Ndiyo hiyo nduuuuuuuru!!!!!
uuuuuuwwwweeeeeeiiiiii
up today i have hated hospitals and i do not understated how drug addicts stick needles in their bodies and eat pills for breakfast.
I even fight for my kids right to acquire natural immunity for common ailments,
but that is a battle i lost compliments of the mother.
MUTOTO KOHOA- MUTOTO HOSIPITAL
MUTOTO GONGWA MUTOTO HOSIPITAL
Now we have a cabinet full of drugs.
we call it the chemist.