I must have met Matron Odeli for the first time in 1971, as a budding Medical Student in my first Paediatric Clinical Posting at the College of Medicine of the University of Lagos (MEDILAG). After graduating in 1973, I returned to the department where, at different times spanning a little less than four decades, I worked as an Intern (House Officer), Resident-in-training, Consultant/Lecturer and Professor. All through these periods, there was one ‘ARROW HEAD’ of Paediatric Nursing in the Children’s Emergency Room (CER) of the Lagos University Teaching Hospital (LUTH). That was Matron Odeli
To be in paediatric care, either as a nurse or a doctor, is not by accident. You must be called. There is no quick fix in children’s matters when they are ill. Conditions they present with as emergencies are at most times life-threatening, with unpredictable outcomes; these evoke serious emotions on the part of the parents/care-givers. Attending to such children requires prompt and appropriate interventions – not to mention, the profound emotional needs of the parents and their formidable entourage of sympathisers.
From start to finish (1971 to 1991) “Matron”, as I fondly referred to her, worked in CER only.
CER is the window to the department of Paediatrics. Situated in a tertiary institution, and the only one for several years that served Lagos State and its environs, it was uniquely and extremely busy. As young doctors, we viewed our postings to CER with trepidation. It was “a cup that could not pass us by”. In that posting, some things were sure to occur; you were no longer in control of your time and your social life was thoroughly disrupted. In addition, you were drained from stress, overwork and altered sleep patterns. No wonder, CER was regarded as ‘OUR SIBERIA’ experience.
Despite all of these, our consolation was, that this was a great way to serve the community of children and their families.
I believe that it was this immense sense of joy and satisfaction that kept Matron Odeli going in CER.
Young doctors in CER tended to overwork themselves and forgot to go on break. Matron recognised this and the danger it could portend. She monitored the doctors closely and urged them to take their break using the coded language – “what of the electrolytes”? Since we check the blood of our patients for electrolytes, parents did not suspect that this was the signal to disengage for break. A young doctor who ignored this guide, regretted doing so.
The standard of Nursing Care was high under Matron Odeli. This could be attributed to her managerial, technical, and cognitive endowments. We were a family in CER – doctors, nurses and support services. Matron was highly respected and appreciated by all. Her colleagues fondly referred to her as Mama Itsekiri. She had a sense of humour.
I still have great memories of her walking tall, straight and smart in her impeccably white uniform contrasting her glowing ebony black skin, holding her diary heading for one of those several top nursing management meetings.
Our lives are but a ‘loaf of time’. Each day shortens our individual loaf by one ‘slice’. Since the actual length of life is uncertain and no one knows how large their loaf is, it is important that we maximise our lives with eternity in mind, making the most of every day that we are given as stewards of those we have the privilege to serve with our time, talent and treasure. This was the philosophy of Matron Odeli. Can we say the same of ourselves?
Matron Odeli (who passed away recently two months or so away from her 92nd birthday) will be dearly missed but her memory lingers on. Eternal rest, grant her O Lord and let perpetual light shine on her in Jesus name. Amen.
Prof Renner is chair, Department of Paediatrics, Babcock University, Ilishan-remo, Ogun state.
END
Be the first to comment