Paying for my ignorance the most bitter way - Essay Example

?Paying for my ignorance the most bitter way Dear I have edited the work to meet the demands of your I have focused the moment to your belief in the chief priest and your exposure to mosquitoes in school. Around that, I have developed a ‘fantasy’ point and a ‘crisis’ point that marred the fantasy. I have attached the edited work and titled it ‘PLANNING FOR THE ESSAY’ actually the text in red are new ideas I have added. I have also prepared an outline that indicates what you wrote about in each numbered paragraph in the plan. Finally, I have presented the final essay. Please let me have an immediate feedback if it fits your expectation so that if it does, I can upload the final work. I am due to travel very soon. Thank you. Strategic planning outline INTRODUCTION This part of the essay gives a general background to how the summit of the essay started or developed. It includes setting, time and introduction of main character. In this essay, the setting was my secondary school, the time was during the examination period and the chief priest and I were the major characters introduced at the introduction stage. I correlation is built at the introduction stage to allow a for a very good affiliation with the main body. i. Background and Setting I shall use this section to introduce the theme of the essay, which is my ignorance in believing a chief priest rather than lessons learnt in school. I shall talk introduce the major setting where I faced my crisis BODY This part of the essay unfolds the main events that happened in the essay. In this case, the essay is a flashback narration of a piece of information I received from a chief priest and how I trusted the information much that I neglected what I heard in school for all the number of years I had received formal education. I fantasy point is introduced to tell of a very enjoying trip I was expecting. There however was a crisis when the trip did not come off because I felt sick – with the sickness being the direct result of the belief I had in the story I was told by the chief priest. I have divided the body of the essay into three sub-sections as detailed below ii. The misconception and ignorance I shall present what the misconception and ignorance I believed in was, where I heard it, when I heard it, from whom I heard it and how I took it. iii. A expectant fantasy I shall talk about a fantasy point I was expecting in my life. This fantasy point is important for the essay because it highlights the crisis I faced out of my ignorance. iv. Crisis point – results of my ignorance I shall talk about the crisis that marred the fantasy but the main focus here is to explain the result of my ignorance, which was of course a negative result. CONCLUSION The conclusion seeks to summarize the essay and tell the result of the ignorance I had in my case. There were lessons I learnt and all these have been factored in the conclusion. The lessons make the essay worth narrating to someone. v. Outcome of the crisis I shall explain how the crisis affected my fantasy. Whether I could still have the fantasy or not. vi. Lessons learnt from the crisis This will be the concluding part of the essay, talking about the lessons I learnt at the end of the day Planning the Essay i. Formal education is supposed to widen our knowledge about issues of life but even at the secondary school level, I did not wholly believe everything that I learnt in school. With all the years of education I had had and with age, I still did not believe what my formal education told taught me about malaria. It was in 2001. I was a high school student in senior secondary three in Nigeria by then and I just clocked eighteen years in February that year yet, I held on to beliefs in stories a popular chief priest had told me rather than what my teachers had taught me all this while. I remained daft over numerous television programs on malaria prevention and control. Even what I learnt in the class about mosquitoes never changed my mind. For this reason, I never thought of protecting myself from mosquito bites at the secondary school. All I could say was that mosquito bites are irritating and itchy to the skin, but does not cause further harm. I remember very well how it all started. I was one of those Nigerians who believed there was no medical condition or disease as malaria. When I was in sixth grade, I once listened to a popular chief priest and herbalist in my local village. “Fever is one of the punishments from the gods of our land, don’t listen to findings of the white men, they are looking for a way of selling their products” the fake and self glorifying herbalist said. These words sank hard into my memory and gave me a new wrong perception about malaria. The perception was harbored in my memory so much that even at the secondary school that I cared less about exposing myself to mosquito bites. ii. During the last few days in school before the my break for vacation, I had exposed myself to lots of mosquito bites. I was preparing for my exams, reading out in an open hall close to my school play ground. There were a lot of grasses around this area. I observed some mosquitoes flying around me as I sat down to read. Sometimes, they pitched perched on my legs and arms. I only noticed this whenever I felt an itching sensation, but it did not bother me. In my hostel, there were stagnant waters behind our rest rooms. I saw a lot of them there and these were very close to my own room. The only reason I had to use my nets when sleeping was the noise mosquitoes made as they flew around. This was like a sleep disturbance to me. iii. I had made my own plans as to how I would spend the vacation. As the term break drew nearer, my excitement escalated. Most of my peers utilize their Spring break to take leisure with each other. I looked forward to relaxation from the examinations, presentations, term papers and the duties that are required of someone in my position. School vacated and I came home a very happy third year student, walking steadily towards graduation from high school. But the vacation even was to be bigger and better than I envisioned. Everything would be set in motion upon my return from school. I reached home with the news of a planned a family trip. was planned. At times opportunity, whether favored or un-favored, provides a change from the daily routine of life. My family and I enjoy the pleasantries of the outdoors, so it was no surprise to me that our time together was to be spent somewhere where we could appreciate nature. Port Harcourt was the location of choice because of the bountiful attractions inclusive of National Cherry Blossom spring festival as well as boating activities which holds on May 1st of every year. Little did I know that our destination also held special sentiment to my mother as it was where she met my father. Other attendees of this trip would be my schoolmate and my grandparents who were due to meet us in Nigeria from London. It was the night of April 30th.The night before our trip, we all prepared and then retired to bed. Thoughts of the following day filled my head and I drifted into sleep. A few hours later, I awoke to find myself shivering, feeling hot flushes, and unable to open my eyes. I pinched myself just to make sure that I was not having a bad dream. I tried to maneuver to sit up from my bed but my body was unstable and felt numb. Could this be symptoms of the dreaded malaria? Could this be the torn in my plans? My cellular phone was close by so, I called my mother to my aid. My mother came hurriedly with my father to evaluate my condition. My father called the family doctor who recommended that I be taken to the hospital. I told my father I would be fine: I hate going to hospital because I was afraid of injections and some other kinds of needle pricks. Before I could mention Jack, we were already on our way to the hospital. iv. What was it that I did wrong? My luxury with mosquitoes at school and my belief in orthodox rather than formal stories was in the wake of jeopardizing my beautiful dream of seeing Port Harcourt. At the hospital, I was given an emergency treatment. The nurses and doctors quickly made me comfortable on a hospital couch, screened me up and told me they wanted to ask me some questions. “We want to know your past and present medical history”, said one of the nurses. “Can I proceed? are you comfortable with it?” she asked. I could not respond immediately. I was wondering what she wanted to know. Gradually, I nodded my head after a few seconds. She told me my temperature was high and instructed me to remove my shirt. She began by asking me the last time I visited any hospital and for what purpose. I underwent further testing which revealed findings consistent with malaria. When the doctor approached me with the result of my test on his hand, he dramatically revealed to me it was malaria. It sounded to me I did not hear him well, but I heard him clearly. I could not believe it! How could this happen to me? I asked the doctor with an obvious sign of denial on my face. v. The treatment I received in the emergency room was so effective. It began to show up on me at almost midday of that day. My temperature returned to near normal, the shivering, hot flushes and generalized body weaknesses withered away slowly. There was no reason for me to doubt the physician. I was able to stand up without much assistance. But one thing was lacking and gone as at then! Port Harcourt was gone far from me for that vacation. All the desires of our whole family were bruised badly; still my grandparents were happy that at least they came here to meet us. My father and my mother hugged me and said that we will go some other time, but May 1st of the next year was still far away. I really felt bad and thought myself responsible for the shattered dreams of myself and the others. vi. One solace I took from the whole experience was the immense lessons I learnt from the doctor. He told me everything I needed to know about mosquitoes, malaria and its transmission. Soon after that, I realized my mistakes and carelessness were responsible for my ill health. I could not stop blaming myself for this ordeal. Right from that moment, I became a crusader of this wicked ailment and its parasite. I learnt my lesson but was unhappy I learnt it the hard way and at the expense of my scheduled trip. This has always been my thought prior to that dark morning I found myself in the emergency room. Actual Essay Formal education is supposed to widen our knowledge about issues of life but even at the secondary school, I did not wholly believe everything that I learnt in school. With all the years of education I had had and with age, I still did not believe what my formal education taught me about malaria. It was in 2001. I was a high school student in senior secondary three in Nigeria by then and I just clocked eighteen years in February that year yet, I held on to beliefs in stories a popular chief priest had told me rather than what my teachers had taught me all this while. I remained daft over numerous television programs on malaria prevention and control. Even what I learnt in the class about mosquitoes never changed my mind. For this reason, I never thought of protecting myself from mosquito bites at the secondary school. All I could say was that mosquito bites are irritating and itchy to the skin, but does not cause further harm. I remember very well how it all started. I was one of those Nigerians who believed there was no medical condition or disease as malaria. When I was in sixth grade, I once listened to a popular chief priest and herbalist in my local village. “Fever is one of the punishments from the gods of our land, don’t listen to findings of the white men, they are looking for a way of selling their products” the self glorifying herbalist said. These words sank hard into my memory and gave me a new perception about malaria. The perception was harbored in my memory so much that even at the secondary school that I cared less about exposing myself to mosquito bites. During the last few days in school before the break for vacation, I had exposed myself to lots of mosquito bites. I was preparing for my exams, reading out in an open hall close to my school play ground. There were a lot of grasses around this area. I observed some mosquitoes flying around me as I sat down to read. Sometimes, they perched on my legs and arms. I only noticed this whenever I felt an itching sensation, but it did not bother me. In my hostel, there were stagnant waters behind our rest rooms. I saw a lot of them there and these were very close to my own room. The only reason I had to use my nets when sleeping was the noise mosquitoes made as they flew around. This was like a sleep disturbance to me. I had made my own plans as to how I would spend the vacation. As the term break drew nearer, my excitement escalated. Most of my peers utilize their Spring break to take leisure with each other. I looked forward to relaxation from the examinations, presentations, term papers and the duties that are required of someone in my position. School vacated and I came home a very happy third year student, walking steadily towards graduation from high school. But the vacation even was to be bigger and better than I envisioned. Everything would be set in motion upon my return from school. I reached home with the news of a planned a family trip. At times opportunity, whether favored or un-favored, provides a change from the daily routine of life. My family and I enjoy the pleasantries of the outdoors, so it was no surprise to me that our time together was to be spent somewhere where we could appreciate nature. Port Harcourt was the location of choice because of the bountiful attractions inclusive of National Cherry Blossom spring festival as well as boating activities which holds on May 1st of every year. Little did I know that our destination also held special sentiment to my mother as it was where she met my father. Other attendees of this trip would be my schoolmate and my grandparents who were due to meet us in Nigeria from London. It was the night of April 30th.The night before our trip, we all prepared and then retired to bed. Thoughts of the following day filled my head and I drifted into sleep. A few hours later, I awoke to find myself shivering, feeling hot flushes, and unable to open my eyes. I pinched myself just to make sure that I was not having a bad dream. I tried to maneuver to sit up from my bed but my body was unstable and felt numb. Could this be symptoms of the dreaded malaria? Could this be the torn in my plans? My cellular phone was close by so, I called my mother to my aid. My mother came hurriedly with my father to evaluate my condition. My father called the family doctor who recommended that I be taken to the hospital. I told my father I would be fine: I hate going to hospital because I was afraid of injections and some other kinds of needle pricks. Before I could mention Jack, we were already on our way to the hospital. What was it that I did wrong? My luxury with mosquitoes at school and my belief in orthodox rather than formal stories was in the wake of jeopardizing my beautiful dream of seeing Port Harcourt. At the hospital, I was given an emergency treatment. The nurses and doctors quickly made me comfortable on a hospital couch, screened me up and told me they wanted to ask me some questions. “We want to know your past and present medical history”, said one of the nurses. “Can I proceed? are you comfortable with it?” she asked. I could not respond immediately. I was wondering what she wanted to know. Gradually, I nodded my head after a few seconds. She told me my temperature was high and instructed me to remove my shirt. She began by asking me the last time I visited any hospital and for what purpose. I underwent further testing which revealed findings consistent with malaria. When the doctor approached me with the result of my test on his hand, he dramatically revealed to me it was malaria. It sounded to me I did not hear him well, but I heard him clearly. I could not believe it! How could this happen to me? I asked the doctor with an obvious sign of denial on my face. The treatment I received in the emergency room was so effective. It began to show up on me at almost midday of that day. My temperature returned to near normal, the shivering, hot flushes and generalized body weaknesses withered away slowly. There was no reason for me to doubt the physician. I was able to stand up without much assistance. But one thing was lacking and gone as at then! Port Harcourt was gone far from me for that vacation. All the desires of our whole family were bruised badly; still my grandparents were happy that at least they came here to meet us. My father and my mother hugged me and said that we will go some other time, but May 1st of the next year was still far away. I really felt bad and thought myself responsible for the shattered dreams of myself and the others. One solace I took from the whole experience was the immense lessons I learnt from the doctor. He told me everything I needed to know about mosquitoes, malaria and its transmission. Soon after that, I realized my mistakes and carelessness were responsible for my ill health. I could not stop blaming myself for this ordeal. Right from that moment, I became a crusader of this wicked ailment and its parasite. I learnt my lesson but was unhappy I learnt it the hard way and at the expense of my scheduled trip. Read More