It’s Always Something

“All in all, it was a good day.” – My father.

Yesterday turned into a minor crisis event when Dad’s feeding tube malfunctioned. First clue something wasn’t right was the slower than normal rate of liquid food being pumped into him with it taking an hour longer than usual. It was his vomiting up the horrible stuff that caused alarm, because it meant the tube might be in the stomach, not the small intestine. Flushing it resulted in water back blasting the syringe out of the adaptor on the tube which would indicate a blockage or crimp somewhere.

Phone calls to the oncology and nutritionist departments followed with the latter responding. Checking the tube for crimps discovered none and the recommendation was given to bring Dad into urgent care, which we discovered is a department of the emergency room. Before leaving, it checked the tube one last time since Dad was choking and gagging on it.

It wasn’t long before he was uncontrollably heaving and unable to catch a breath. One thing about emergencies that fascinates me is the time dilation effect experienced. Thoughts race at faster than normal speeds, at least for me, which leads to an increase in calculations – not to mention movements. Slipping on the last pair of vinyl gloves in the box we have, I carefully and very quickly pulled the tube out so Dad could travel while still breathing.

With that done and him no longer in distress, we headed for La Crosse and the ER. After a long wait, he was wheeled to the clinic building and the fluoroscopy unit to have a new NJ tube put in. After briefing the RNs involved, I went to the waiting area expecting it to be awhile due to difficulties involved the first time compounded by the possibility that the night’s feeding had ended up in the stomach.

Sure enough, it took a great deal of time and effort including pumping his stomach which was filled and unable to drain. But the new tube is in. We’ll be monitoring it closely since we suspect that if this happens again a surgically implanted one will be necessary. Last night’s feeding went well according to Dad and was the most restful one in days. We’ll be modifying his feeding routine to shorten it from being 12 hours straight at night. The new schedule will be 11PM to 7AM nominally, then noon to 4PM.

If you are wondering why my father said what he did at the beginning of the post, it has to do with the fact of how well he physically handled the day. While it was “a challenge,” he got outside under his own power and even burned trash. He was up and down going to his PC transplanted to the dining room as well. Energy and activity levels were up despite the major malfunction.

Silver linings, to be sure.