Written October 4, 2010  8:15 pm

Anita had a pretty busy day today.  The day started with a Physical Therapy (PT) session in the morning.  Speech Therapy (ST) then performed a Barium Swallow test to check Anita's swallowing capacity.  Anita passed the test and is now released to eat and drink "regular" food.  an Occupational Therapy (OT) session followed which focused on her ability to feed herself.  A Neuropsychologist then tested Anita's cognitive capabilities, which were found to be in order.  Another PT session followed in the gym.  She then returned to her room and had a vent weaning session in the afternoon during which she remained off the ventilator for over five (5) hours.  She was somewhat tired after the full day of activity and rested the remainder of the evening.

Barium Swallow.  I am familiar with this procedure.  It's done to make sure that the swallow muscles are working so that liquids and solids go into the stomach rather than the lungs. This is a test I hope to pass so I can eat real food and have my feeding tube removed.

Although I have knowledge of this procedure, I have never seen one performed. I am interested to see this first hand, but a little nervous about what to expect.  I am hoyer lifted onto a stretcher and taken to another floor where I am lifted again and placed into a small manual wheelchair.  The chair is wheeled into a small dark room.

My Speech Therapist has a student with her today.  I welcome students.  They are enthusiastic.  Full of questions for their mentors.  And their mentors do an extra thorough job to demo to the student exactly how things are done.  There are always students in Rehab. 

A Barium Swallow test is a live x-ray, so all those in the room (except the patient of course) must don a lead apron.  My therapist comes in and dresses out.  The student arrives a few minutes later with a look of confusion on his face.  He is wearing his lead apron, but is holding a triangular shaped object and looking at his mentor for direction.  It is a lead shield for the thyroid, but my witty Speech Therapist has advised her student it is to protect his privates.  Since the lead apron hangs almost to his knees, he is obviously perplexed.  When he realizes what the triangle is for, we all have a good laugh.  The comic relief is welcome in this small dark room.

With everyone properly outfitted, I sit in front of the screen.   My therapist holds the cup full of chalky liquid to my mouth.  I can see the liquid on the x-ray going into my mouth and then down my throat.  It goes down the right path, bypassing the lungs. I tuck my chin to encourage a swallow. After a few more gulps, I am then fed jello, followed by pudding, raisins,  and crackers to chew and swallow.  I am surprised how difficult it is for me to manipulate food in my mouth. And to push it to the back of my throat. I really have to think about it. Yet another thing I hope to never take for granted.  The x-ray is fascinating.  Watching the internal act of chewing and swallowing is an intimate experience.  Definitely an inside view!

The good news...I pass. I am cleared to eat solid food.  Now on to OT to see if I am physically capable of feeding myself.  Can I get a fork to my mouth?  I'm not passing this test too well. Since I have limited use of just one hand I need a sticky mat so my plate won't slide and a plate guard to keep my food on the plate.  But I can't even get my food to my mouth due to muscle weakness in my arm and I can't hold a utensil.  So, I am given a special cuff that is strapped around my hand with an opening to hold my fork or spoon.  My OT also outfits me with a special hinged device that supports my arm.  Once my arm is strapped into this device I can use shoulder muscles to get the food to my mouth.  Once my tray is set up (all containers opened, long straw in place, food cut, arm placed in hinged device, and towel in lap to catch the spillage) I can feed myself.  But after all the tests, modifications and 2 months of not eating, I find that I am not the least bit hungry.  Now...for just a little while.