It was a shock when, a few weeks ago, my radiologist told me
that I needed to have a feeding tube installed. “You may or may not need it
during your treatment,” he said, “but we prefer that you have it put in now,
because you’ll be very weak later.”
So, terrific, hooray for the protocol. Feeding tube installed,
4 October 2013, approximately 9am.
Jesus, it’s big. I was expecting something small, like the
nozzle on a can of WD-40. Instead, I now have something like a garden hose
implanted two inches above my belly button.
Getting a hole punched in your belly hurts for a few days. I
suppose that’s a silly thing to say, but (for whatever reason) I wasn’t really
expecting it. I spent the weekend aching and cradling my belly, walking with a
hunch, wondering how long this was going to go on, and assuming (of course)
that it would be the rest of my life.
Over the last few days, the incision has mostly healed. I am
now able to walk upright and almost normally. But some movements that involve
the abdominal muscles – especially getting up from a seated or lying-down
position – still give me a twinge.
Also: I can now burp without pain! Also, I can cough!
Sneezing is still a little painful, however.
Also laughing.
Oh this is the last straw. I can’t laugh? Whom do I need to talk to about this?
As James
Thurber said when his blindness prevented him from seeing a beautiful girl
embracing him: “Dear God, this goes just a little bit beyond a joke.”
