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De Wesley's, Adeola Odeku, Lagos (2025)

01/12/2025

My husband said I should wet for him, he’s cumin back early .
What’s that? I cover myself with Bilateral Tubal Ligation 🥰

01/12/2025

Please make sure you read my next post by 7:30pm tonight.
Tag your family members, friends, nurses, and every healthcare worker you know…they need to see it.
Some habits in healthcare need to change, and they need to change now.
De Wesley's

01/12/2025

This birth story didn’t end with joy….
it ended with a lesson we must never forget.

Some decisions cannot be reversed once the body pays the price.

There are stories you carry in your chest, not your memory.
Stories that replay in your mind when the theatre is quiet and the monitors are beeping softly.
Stories that remind you that human life is fragile…. painfully fragile.

This one still sits heavily on my heart.

A woman was brought in for a Caesarean section.
She had been counselled earlier.
The team had reviewed her case.
The risks were clear.
The decision was made…. Surgery was the safest way to bring her baby into the world.

She was rolled into theatre.
Lights on.
Instruments counted.
Anaesthesia team ready.
Scrub team ready.
We were seconds away from starting.

Then she turned her head…
Looked straight at us…
And said softly, but with the kind of conviction that shakes a room..

“I don’t want the surgery again. I want to deliver on my own.”

At first, we thought it was panic.
It happens.
Fear can make the strongest woman second guess herself.

But this was different.
Her mind was made up.

We paused everything.
We explained again, gently, thoroughly, with compassion….

“This surgery is not to punish you.
It is to protect you.
Your baby is fine, but your body may not survive labour.”

We told her what could happen.
We told her the truth many people don’t want to hear…

Not every childbirth can be done by strength alone.

She listened.
She nodded.
She understood the risks word for word.

Yet still… she refused.

Some family voices were echoing in her head.
Some fears were shouting louder than our explanations.

She signed the refusal.
Not because she didn’t understand but because she believed she could beat the odds.

Labour started.
It was long.
It was painful.
It took everything from her.

But she pushed.

And pushed.

And against the weight of medical reasoning…
She delivered her baby.

The room erupted with relief.
Even we…. the medical team…..were happy for her.
A life had entered the world.
A cry filled the room.
You would think everything was fine.

But… the body keeps receipts.

A few hours after delivery… her vitals started slipping.
Her breathing changed.
Her colour faded.
Her body that fought so hard began to shut down.

We battled to save her.
We fought with everything we had.

But we lost her.

Her baby lived.
She didn’t.

And just like that, the story changed from she made it, to she didn’t make it.

Her husband broke down.
Her mother fainted.
Her sisters were screaming her name.
The baby was crying in someone’s arms, not knowing the cost of his arrival.

And in that moment…
You will understand that childbirth is not a competition.
It’s not a place to prove strength.
It’s not a moment to satisfy people’s opinions or cultural expectations.

Guess what? Her prophet told her, she will deliver like those women the Bible.

Moral Lesson:
When healthcare providers speak, it’s not pride, it’s experience.
They have seen what the eyes of the public have not seen.
They have watched life slip away from people who thought they could push through.
They know when nature is safe… and when it is not.

Please, listen….
Listen when the risks are explained.
Listen when the d@nger signs are highlighted.
Listen when the professionals plead with you.

Strength is not in refusing advice.
Strength is in choosing life even when it means choosing surgery.

Because at the end of the day…
A living mother is better than a brave story that ends in silence.
De Wesley's

01/12/2025

Back from hustling
De Wesley's

01/12/2025

If there is one night that made me question everything I know about life and deeth…
It was this one.

From a Mortician…
👇👇
This wasn’t night duty.
It was broad daylight.
Sun shining.
People outside chatting.
Normal mortuary atmosphere.

But grief can change the air in a room…
and that day, grief walked in like a storm.

A family entered…. mother, siblings, wife, grown children.
The man who d!ed was their backbone.
Their provider.
Their hero.

The moment they saw him on the slab…
something inside them broke.
The crying wasn’t ordinary crying,
It was the kind that shakes your bones…
the kind that makes even the air feel heavy.

The mother collapsed on the floor, screaming his name.
The wife held his cold feet like she wanted to drag him back to life.
The children cried like they were begging for mercy from the universe.

And then… something happened.

As the wife placed her head on his chest, crying from her stomach…
I heard it.

A low, soft exhale
from the d£ad man.

I froze.
My hands started shaking.
I wasn’t expecting anything. I wasn’t even touching him.
But I heard it.
The family heard it too.

They jumped back, shouting, ‘He breathed! He breathed! He heard us!’

The mother fainted again.
One of the sons tried lifting the man from the slab, shouting for help.

What they didn’t know…
what their grief didn’t allow them to understand…
is that d£ad bodies sometimes release trapped air.
And when the room is quiet…
that air comes out like a sigh.

But what scared me wasn’t the sound.
It was the timing,
It happened exactly when the wife cried,
‘Please come back to me… even if it’s just to hear my voice one last time.’

It felt like the body responded to her pain.
Like life echoed briefly in deeth.

I explained everything to them…
but their hearts were too broken to hear science.

They believed he reacted to their cries.
And honestly…
in that moment…
even I didn’t know what to believe.

That day taught me something….

The deed may not come back…
but sometimes they give the living one last sign….
even if it’s only a breath escaping from a silent chest.

If you reached the end without looking over your shoulder… you’re ready for the next story.
De Wesley's

01/12/2025

Before you take your parents to any hospital… read this first.
One careful decision can save a life.

This week, something happened that broke my heart.
A family is mourning and asking questions… not because they didn’t love their father, but because they didn’t know how risky certain medications can be for elderly people.

A 75-year-old man was given a combination of medications that were too strong for his age and condition.
Not because anyone wanted to harm him.
Sometimes, it’s simply a lack of proper assessment, limited resources, or inadequate training in some facilities.

But the result is painful.
Very painful.

And that is why I keep reminding us….

Please be careful where you take your loved ones for treatment.
Always ask questions before any medication is given.
If something doesn’t feel right, ask for a second opinion or transfer.

Healthcare is not cheap, but it is always cheaper than regret.
Some facilities try their best with what they have, but not every place has the equipment, staff strength, or experience to handle complex or elderly cases safely.

At 75, the body reacts differently.
It needs gentler care.
It needs proper monitoring.
It needs a place where drug combinations are reviewed carefully.

This is not to blame anyone, it’s to educate us.
To help us make informed decisions.
To remind us that when it comes to our parents and grandparents, we must choose carefully and speak up when necessary.

If this post helps even one family avoid such heartbreak, then it is worth sharing.
Let’s protect the people we love with knowledge, awareness, and wisdom.

I am De Wesley's

30/11/2025

Do you know you can actually publish a book with my writ -ups?

Be smart.
Ask me how?

30/11/2025

Episode 2.
Mortuary attendance encounter….

This one happened on a rainy night.
Rain that was beating the roof like it wanted to enter.
Storm.
Thunder.
Power flickering on and off.
The kind of night that makes the mortuary feel too alive.

They brought in a middle aged man. Accident case.
Broken bones… deep wounds… bl00d everywhere.

His face alone was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.
But d£ad is d£ad, abi?
Or so I thought.

I cleaned him, stitched what I could, arranged the body.
Laid him on the slab.
Covered him with the white sheet.
Everything normal.

But the first thunder strike came…
and the sheet moved.

Yes. The sheet. The same sheet I tucked tightly. It rose slightly… as if something underneath took a deep breath.

I stood still, telling myself it was just air trapped in the body. It happens.
But then…

The man’s leg je**ed.

Not small.
Not subtle.
A full, sharp twitch….. like someone reacting to pain.

Every drop of bl00d in my body froze.
I was alone.
No assistant.
No guard.
Just me and the d£ad.

I whispered, ‘Oga… I beg you… rest. Don’t start.
But the leg je**ed again…. stronger.
And this time… the metal slab vibrated.

Another thunder strike.
The lights flickered.
The cold room hummed like it was breathing with us.

I forced myself to walk closer.
My heart was beating so loud I could hear it echo.
When I pulled the sheet down…

One of his eyes…
was half open.
Staring sideways.
Staring at me.

I whispered a prayer.
A loud one.

It wasn’t spirit.
It wasn’t juju.
It was postmortem muscle spasm sometimes the nerves fire randomly after deeth.

Science explains it beautifully…
but at 1:47am in a cold mortuary with thunder shaking the building…
explanations don’t help your soul.

That night taught me something….
The living fear deeth…
but the d£ad?
Sometimes… it’s like they’re trying to remind you they once live

Next episode…. Follow De Wesley's

30/11/2025

Are you ready for the next episode?

30/11/2025

Yes 🙌

30/11/2025

Some babies enter this world with a fight… and some mothers almost leave because of it.

She had been in labour for hours…
A tiny woman with a soft voice, but a warrior’s strength.
Her husband paced outside, praying under his breath.
The fetal heart rate dipped… climbed… dipped again.

Inside the theatre, we exchanged glances.
We knew what was coming.

We prepared for emergency delivery.

Her eyes met mine…. full of fear but begging silently
Please… save my child.

By the time we delivered the baby, his body was limp.
Quiet.
Too quiet.

That silence hits different in the operating theatre.
It feels like time stops.
Like every light becomes dimmer.
Like the room forgets how to breathe.

We started resuscitation immediately.
Rub.
Stimulate.
Clear airway.
Ventilate.

One minute passed.
Two minutes.
Three.

Then….
A whimper.
A gasp.
A cry that grew louder and louder until it filled the whole theatre.

I swear, everyone’s shoulders dropped in relief.

But the mother…
She didn’t know yet.
She was still fighting her own battle…. bleeding more than she should.

We stabilized her.
Sutured.
Monitored.
Prayed with our hands.

And when it was time…
I carried the baby to her.

To be continued in the next episode
I am De Wesley's

30/11/2025

Not everyone who dresses like a queen is actually a queen…
Some of us are just Quazza Queens… packaging on a budget, royalty in our mind, and grace that’s powered by vibes.
👑😂 Queen by heart, Quazza by lifestyle.

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