After the office visit, my doctor had me stay at the hospital for a few days to get used to having the NG Tube. I lay in the hospital bed with the tube fastened to my cheek with medical tape while Peptamen--high calorie supplement--was slowly pumped in at 50cc per hour. Initially I did okay with the slow drip, but as they upped the pace, I woke up feeling so sick and full that I was very close to throwing up. It was an unpleasant thing to get used to. I remember going to the kid's recreation room at Children's Hospital with the tube still in, me pulling my medical tree behind me everywhere I went. I did some arts and crafts and met a boy named "Bernie". He didn't talk much, but we kept each other company. I named a stuffed bear I got at the hospital after him.
I was so excited to get out of the hospital--at first. I couldn't wait to be back at my home again. It was near Christmas time and we had all the decorations up, so home felt even more cozy than usual. But then the reality hit. I would have to be "hooking up" to this machine every night from now on if I was going to gain any weight and have any easy doctor's appointment. In the beginning, a visiting nurse would come and help me insert the tube every night at around 7:30/8:00. I remember being at school and feeling like the days were just flying by. I had a mental countdown by the middle of the day.
Crap, only 6 hours until the nurse gets here. All I have time for is homework and dinner and
then my night's over.
So the routine stood. My nurse would come. I would dread it. I'd fulfill my unpleasant duty of putting something foreign through my body every night, dread taking it out in the morning, pull it out anyway because I had to, and start the whole cycle over again. There were a few times at school when people asked me why my face was all red and torn looking. I didn't want to tell them that the medical tape that holds my feeding tube in place rips the hell out of my skin because it's not meant to come off easily. That's not a cool thing to say in middle school. I don't think I told much of anyone what was going on with me except for a few close friends,
but over time it seemed like people I didn't even know were getting suspicious of me.
The one stand out story that I remember from the era of the NG Tube happened one Saturday morning. I was having trouble mustering up the courage to pull out my feeding tube--more than usual anyway. I just sat in bed for hours slowly tugging at it little by little. My mom came up and asked me if I wanted anything for breakfast. I told her I'd like a bagel, but that she could hold off a few minutes because I still hadn't gotten the NG out yet. She went downstairs for a bit while I continued to try and then chicken out. After a while, my mom called upstairs that my bagel was ready, but I still hadn't done it. It must have been at least another half an hour before I just decided to do it. And then 1-2-3 I yanked it out, and the tube had an honest to God kink in it. I could feel the kink travel all the way up my throat and out my nose. It did not feel good. Now, this process never feels good, but usually it's not as bad as when you've got a bent hose trying to make its way out of a small nostril. After that day, I told my parents that I just couldn't do it anymore. It was too mentally draining to agonize about doing this every day and then actually have to perform it before bed and first thing in the morning. For a while I tried drinking the supplements that were going into me via feeding tube, but they were pretty gross, and sickeningly filling. After telling my doctor this, he suggested that I either drink 10 or 11 of those things per day or have a G-Tube surgically placed. I opted for the G-Tube which I ended up having for about 10ish years. More on that soon.
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