The Ballerina Effect

 

Somebody was dead.

Jane froze as soon as she walked in the door. It was her mother’s face. Especially the eyes- They were wild with panic and distress.

Somebody was definitely dead.

Jane thought first about her grandmother. Her beautiful grandmother. The teacher. The singer. A mother of many. Or her grandfather. The poet. The soldier. The philanthropist. Or her other grandmother. The seamstress. The artist. Or maybe it was…

Jane gathered herself, “What’s happened, Mum?”

“My daughter…” Jane’s mother’s voice broke. She paused then took a deep breath and tried again, “My daughter…”

Jane could feel her heart rate accelerating, her stomach knotting, her knees weakening, “WHAT IS IT, MUM?!!”

Jane’s mum’s voice was solemn, “It’s your father.”

It felt as if someone had reached in and snatched Jane’s heart out of her chest. Her knees gave way beneath her and she fell back into the wall, “Whaaaat?”

“Yes.” Her mother nodded in satisfaction at Jane’s evident dismay. She took a long pause to relish the moment before explaining further, “Yes o, my daughter, he has been on the toilet for three days now.”

Umm, ok! Alrighty then. So nobody was in fact dead.

Jane rolled her eyes and struggled to regain her composure. First of all, Mum, you are so dramatic. Second of all, that’s TMI. Third of all, three days though?

Jane set her bag down on the table, “Maybe he ate something?”

“My dear, I don’t know.”

“Where is Dad?”

“Where else?”

“In the toilet?”

“I said ‘where else?’”

Jane decided she would wait for him to get out.

So she waited. And waited. And waited some more.

***

45 minutes later, Jane was still waiting. Ok, this was serious.

Her mother was pacing back and forth in the living room, “He has removed all his intestines by now. What is he doing again?”

Jane ignored her. She knocked on the bathroom door just to check on him, “Dad, are you ok?”

“Yes, Jane, I’m fine.”

He obviously wasn’t.

“Ok, I’m just checking. Let me know when you get out.”

Eventually, he did come out. Finally.

Jane was worried, “Are you ok, Dad?”

“I am ok. But I have just been…”

Her father stopped mid-sentence. There was a short pause. Was something happening?  He made an abrupt u-turn and headed straight back to the toilet. His steps were short and quick. And very urgent.

This was very very serious.

When her father came out the second time, her parents started to fill Jane in. They hadn’t thought to tell Jane or her sister, Kate what had been going on before now. But this had been happening for three days and it was now officially a Code Red. They just hadn’t thought much of it initally. They figured it was probably just something he had eaten. But now he hadn’t eaten anything in two days. He had no appetite. He had only been drinking tea. But he was still going to the bathroom. Constantly. Repeatedly. Relentlessly. And he was in severe pain.

Her mother had heard of this thing before. Someone she knew had a brother whose wife’s cousin’s father had died from it. The devil was a liar and he would never succeed because we are soldiers of Christ and we have a mandate to pull down whatever strongholds the enemy brings to us as God’s children. It was officially very serious.

Just so you know, this conversation slash prayer was halted twice- so that Jane’s dad could take two more 30 minute bathroom break. Jane felt sorry for him. This was no way to live. And it was certainly no way to die.

***

They debated going to the ER but ultimately decided, like many others before them, that it was the pretty much the same thing (or perhaps even better) to simply google how to treat the ailment instead.

Dr. Google, MD prescribed three things to treat Diarrhea:

1.       Drink lots of fluids to stay hydrated

2.       Use an Over the Counter Medication

3.       Cut the lining from a chicken gizzard, let it dry, then soak it in boiling water and take a spoonful of the liquid every hour.

Jane decided that the first two were viable options. She called her sister, Kate and asked her to stop by CVS and pick up some Imodium for their dad on her way home back. Her Dad was back in the bathroom so Jane reminded her mum to make sure that he was drinking lots of fluids in the meantime.

“Yes,” Jane’s mum nodded in agreement, “I told you. Its only tea he’s been drinking for the past two days. That’s all I make for him. That girls’ tea that he likes.”

Girl’s tea? What girl’s tea? Jane was confused. “Mum, what Girl’s tea?”

“The tea you bought. Or maybe Kate bought it. But your Dad really likes it. It’s green tea. In a green packet with some dancing girls on it. The ballet tea. That’s all he drinks. Since this thing started, it’s all he can drink. In fact, I was even making fun of him that this tea looks like it is for girls and yet he like it so much!”

Jane chuckled, “Well, whatever works. As far as he is staying hydrated.”

Kate got home 45 minutes later armed with the Imodium- Instant, rapid release, Imodium AD.

Fantastic. Their Dad would be good as new in a few.

***

Except he wasn’t.

In a few, he was still feeling pretty shitty. Pun intended.

In fact, two days later, the situation had gone from bad to worse.

Their Mum had taken to putting drops of anointing oil in his tea but there was still no improvement.

That Saturday afternoon, Jane and Kate were on their way to the gym (#squatchallenge, #squatsnotshots) when Kate brought it up, “We really should get Dad to see a doctor.”

“I know,” Jane agreed, “I feel really bad for him.”

“It’s crazy. He hasn’t eaten in days!” Kate added, “All he does is drink tea.”

“Yup. It’s been five days and that’s all he’s had. Mum was even making fun of him because of it.” Jane put on the “I’m a drama queen” face and the exaggerated high pitch voice she usually reserved for when she was about to mimic their mum, “Mum was like “He likes this tea for girls”, “girl’s tea.” I swear, they are so weird. She even---“

Kate started laughing but on a second thought, she interrupted the story, “Girls’ tea?”

“Yeah, some green tea you got.”

“Green tea? Or tea in a green package?”

“Well, Mum said ballet tea?”

“Oh… My… gosh! HE’S DRINKING BALLERINA TEA?!” Kate’s jaw dropped so far down that Jane was almost certain could see her tonsils waving Hello.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked.

Kate was actually speechless. She looked absolutely aghast. In her mind, she was running through the 5 Ws and 1H: What would make him drink it? When was their dad even drinking it? Where was he drinking it? Why would he drink it? Who would make him drink? How had he been drinking it?

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked again. "You're freaking me out!"

Kate shook her head viciously, “Dad’s been drinking that tea?!! WHYYYYY? IT’S A CHINESE WEIGHT LOSS TEA!!!”

Jane stared at Kate in horror. Her jaw dropped too. And Kate was pretty sure she could see Jane’s tonsils waving Hello right back.

Kate had bought the tea on a whim at the Asian market a few months before. It was supposed to cause weight loss by- wait for it- inducing violent and dramatic diarrhea. It had almost ended Kate’s life.

She had brewed the tea for half the recommended time. And then she’d watered it down- one part water and one part tea. And then she had only drunk half of it anyway. Now, if you are good at math and you are keeping up, this essentially meant that she had only drank one eighth of a normal portion of the tea. And she still spent a day and a half paying for it. She nearly died. Had she not been spiritually protected by years of her mother’s prayers, she probably would have. A lesser human being definitely would have. She had never touched the tea since that day.

She had been tempted on occasion- to invite a cheating ex-boyfriend over for a “friendly” cup of tea. Or to switch the Ballerina tea out with the Tazo tea bags in the office the next time her boss made her attend another 45-minute meeting that should have been an email. She just had to make sure that she had all her personal affairs in order first, because she would definitely be sentenced to multiple life terms when the tea killed everyone at the office.

“I don’t understand how he even likes it. It tastes like diarrhea.” Kate was perplexed. “You’re sure Dad likes that tea?”

He, in fact, did, Janet told her. Their mum would put two sugar cubes and a generous splash of milk. He loved it. It reminded him of good old English tea from his college days in Manchester. It was apparently all he would drink over the past few days to help him with the diarrhea. They over brewed every bag, squeezed out every drop and he drank cup after cup after of it since he couldn’t eat anything else.

They started trying frantically to call their parents but Jane’s phone was dead and Kate had left her phone at home. Just great.

Jane did a u-ie and they started heading back home. She had never driven so fast in her life. If they were in a cartoon, there for sure would have been a shower of sparks and clouds of smoke trailing her car.

When they finally got home, their mum was sitting in the living room.

“Where’s Dad?” Jane yelled.

“Tell me you didn’t make him that tea!” Kate was yelling even louder.

“Yes? Why? Why?!” Their mum was confused, “WHYYYY? I just made it for him again now. He is drinking it!”

Without another word, both Jane and Kate brushed past their mum, jumped over the couch and ran up the stairs to their Dad’s room.

It was all happening in slow motion. If you listened really hard, you could probably hear the tense orchestra music from the Snow White movie when the Evil Queen was trying to get Snow White to take a bite of the poisoned apple and the little birdies were trying to stop Snow White from doing it. Or depending on what kind of movies you are in to, you might have heard the background music from that Nollywood movie scene when the innocent husband of the gold digging wife is about to swallow the first ball of poisoned pounded yam and egusi. Whichever it was, there was definitely dramatic music.

“Stoooooop!” Jane and Kate screamed in unison as they flung open the door to their Dad’s room.

Their father froze, staring at Jane and Kate in confusion.

Kate wagged a finger at the offending tea cup, “Not one more sip!”

Their Dad had already taken a sip so he just stood there, frozen and perplexed.

Jane grabbed the cup from his hands and held it under his mouth, “Dad, spit it out.”

Their Dad stared at her in confusion.

“Spit!” Kate insisted

He did.

And so fortunately, no one died. And even more fortunately, their dad lost 7 pounds and he looked great. Always a silver lining.