Now that the tracheostomy tube was out, it opened up tantalizing possibilities!
Reader Dear, think: Food, glorious food!
Think: End of plastic bagful of flesh-colored formula dripping into me moment by moment!
It opened up the likelihood of taste-chew-swallow! Two days after the big tracheostomy tube removal party, I got another go at ice chips and applesauce (and wow, minus the bloody blue dye ["bloody" only used here as the British would use it; no need to panic!]) This time I passed with flying colors (ha, non-dying ones) and there was no retraction later.
Carole told me, "We are going to start you on soft, pureed foods. I will come to your room and observe you eating the first meal. They will bring you a breakfast tray at six-thirty tomorrow morning."
I blanched. "Six-thirty in the morning?!"
Then I added, "Even in my most ordinary life, even before drip-feeding, I was never, never ready for food at six-thirty a.m.! Do I have to eat that early? If I am ever-so-lucky, I will be sleeping at that hour!"
Now, Reader Dear, it was a real effort for me to deliver this message with much force. When the tracheostomy tube was removed, there went the Passy-Muir valve as well! Once again, I had to work to speak! It meant pressing on the bandage at my throat, trying to block any escaping air. I was back to getting worn out with wordiness! Nevertheless, I got my message across.
"We can start with lunch," she said.