Swallowing Hard

Some things are hard to swallow. Your pride. Defeat. Golf balls. The list goes on.

I have begun having difficulty swallowing liquids--even the ones I love, like Cabernet and Merlot.

It's been almost a year since I began frequently (i.e., more often than never) having episodes of choking while I was eating. Some of them were pretty scary, like the time I had to have Jordyn pound my back because I couldn't breathe around the cracker crumbs that had carelessly slid down the wrong way. Others, I was able to manage on my own by forcing a cough until whatever was caught got dislodged. The one that made me think it might be worth mentioning to a doctor happened the day before Easter...

Awesome Greg was outside, and my son was upstairs. I was sitting at the table eating peanuts, and one got in the wrong place. I couldn't cough, because I couldn't get a breath. I couldn't call for help, because I couldn't get a breath. I could scarcely gasp, because I couldn't get a breath. I was able to get Greg's attention by stumbling outside, pounding my chest. Sensing my dilemma at once, he started hitting me on the back so hard that Dominic must have heard it up in his room, because suddenly he was there, too, saying "Should I call 911?!!"

Greg attempted a Heimlich maneuver, forgetting that he had forgotten how. With his arms wrapped around my upper rib cage, he jerked me up and down with adrenaline-fueled force, lifting me off my feet with each yank. Realizing that he was probably doing more harm than good, he gave me one more good whack on the back, and it was over. Nothing as dramatic as an entire peanut popping out of my mouth, finally allowing me to fill my lungs. It was tiny little peanut shards. Unless I still have a peanut lodged somewhere in my lungs, I almost died that day because of tiny little fragments of nuts.

So I mentioned "The Easter Incident" a few weeks later when I saw the Pulmonary Team at Duke. Apparently, people who have problems with their lungs like I do also frequently have swallowing issues. I was sent right up to Speech Therapy for a swallow test. It was most unpleasant. A minuscule camera on a wire was fed through my nose and down my throat, and we were all treated to the "Kate Swallows" show. What it showed was that I need to swallow three or four times before all of my food goes where it's supposed to go. And sometimes it doesn't. Most significant, though--and what I hadn't realized--was that every time I swallow liquid--every time--it goes down the wrong path, where I am in danger of inhaling it. I had noticed I was coughing every time I took a drink, but didn't associate it with choking on my food.

Happily, there is a solution, and it doesn't involve feeding tubes--at least not yet. There's "Swallow Therapy." I had six sessions and learned seven wonderful exercises I can do (and have been doing) every day. Since I haven't gone a day in my life without talking or swallowing, I have no idea how my throat muscles got so lax, but that's what it amounts to. The muscles can be strengthened by doing exercises. Since I have been doing them, I have had no incidences of choking on food. And liquids? All I have to do is remember to duck my head every time I swallow, allowing me to control the path it takes, rather than gravity.

So if it looks like I'm bowing my head in homage each time I take a sip of wine, well, I guess I am.