Ode to the G-Tube

Our good friends recently made the very tough decision to get a g-tube for their daughter, who is a little younger than Collin. The surgery happened this week and the recovery has been rougher than expected. Everyone in the family is getting used to a very new way of doing things.

On the day of our little friend's surgery, I sent her mom a picture of Collin the day he got his g-tube. He is three weeks old. His face is puffy from IV fluids and he's pale from the anesthesia. You can't see it in the picture, but under all of those pastel swaddling blankets there is a flexible yellowish eight inch long tube sewn into his stomach. 

I was terrified and heartbroken when I found out that Collin needed a feeding tube. It seemed like the end of something precious.

I couldn't know then that a time would come when I wouldn't give that g-tube a second thought except to find it cute. And I certainly couldn't know how many other hard things would be made easier through that one scary little hole.

Because now, I don't have to stress over the pace of Collin's feeding therapy progress. I know that every day he will get the ideal number of calories from whole foods and more than enough water to keep him well hydrated.

I don't have to worry about force feeding Collin a ketogenic diet. I know that at every meal he will get the exact ratio of fat to protein and carbohydrate he needs to control his seizures.

I don't have to worry about how to get Collin to take medicine when he is sick. I know that he gets the full dose of whatever medicine I give him.

My son is with me because of his g-tube. It allows him strength and health. With a g-tube, he can be safe and free.