Lose the battle, win the war?

Dad's status hasn't changed much the last few days. He still sleeps most of the time. When he's awake and alert, he'll make facial gestures indicating some level of understanding to what is happening around him. Including who is talking to him at the time, and even the subject of the conversation. But he won't respond to direct questions. At least not in any definitive means towards communication.

He's still pulling out his feeding tube. And while I can't honestly say that I blame him, it isn't helping matters. I'm not exactly sure how you put a tube through the nose and it ends up in the stomach. Seems to me that it's just as likely that it'd end up in the lungs. Maybe that's why they x-ray him every time they have to put the tube back in place? Needless to say, the hospital staff are worried that the constant removal and replacement of the tube is hurting more than it is helping.

He wouldn't need the feeding tube if he were able to eat. And while nobody can say with any certainty that he can't eat, they don't want to risk him aspirating his dinner into his lungs. If I understand things correctly, when he lost almost all function on the right side of his body, he lost the functionality of the right side of his esophagus as well. Or so we think. Something of a catch-22. He needs to eat, but we can't feed him while he's at risk. The only way to tell if he's not a risk is to feed him.

I mentioned the port in an earlier post. It's officially called Percutaneous Endoscopic Gastrostomy (PEG). Mom approved it today, after we all discussed it. I have reservations, but I understand why it is being done at this time.

I didn't mention that they tested his swallowing ability. It looks like he's swallowing normally. During our visit today, I was told that he actually ate pudding today. So, he can swallow after all. Which leads to the earlier question, why are we still doing the PEG tomorrow? Unfortunately, he isn't awake or alert long enough to actually eat a meal. No meal equals no energy equals no recovery.

When this title popped into my head, I was thinking in terms of losing the battle on the PEG procedure, but winning the war against his disability. And it struck me how much a part of daily life this really is. More a constant state of compromise than losing battles and winning wars, but you get the idea. Small things we do when we don't want to in the effort for a better day or a better life. I'll eat the salad instead of the hamburger in the hopes of lowering my cholesterol. I'll make the bed (even though she got out of the bed last) in the hopes that she will forgive me turning up the volume during the basketball game.

And there it is Dad. I'm compromising on the PEG in the hopes that you will be better energized, more comfortable, and continue down the long road towards recovery. But hurry up, the basketball season is coming to an end.