I discharged a patient this afternoon with a newly diagnosed feeding disorder. He has poor oral motor skills, gets most of his nutrition through his abdominal feeding tube, and can only eat pureed and soft foods like oatmeal and baby food by mouth.
I was warned ahead of time by social work that the mother is slightly "limited" so I sat down with her and spent a good 15-20 minutes explaining why her child had trouble chewing and going through lists of foods that would be good or bad for him. "His mouth works like a baby's mouth so he can only have very mushy foods like a baby would eat."
Mom seemed to get it. I sent our dietician and nurse practicioner to spend some more time, help her come up with a meal plan, and make sure she understood. I went to see another patient for a few minutes and then returned with the staff physician to complete the discharge.
"I hear you've been learning about the right kinds of foods for Chase to eat. What do you think you'll feed him when you get home?" Asked my staff.
Mom thought about it for a second. "Pizza."
::headdesk::
Sensing our mild disapproval she tried again, "Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" . . . "Chicken?"
His discharge form now reads, in capital letters: CHASE MAY ONLY EAT PUDDING OR YOGURT. CHASE MAY NOT EAT ANY FOOD THAT IS NOT PUDDING OR YOGURT. NO PIZZA. NO CHICKEN. NO SANDWICHES. ONLY PUDDING OR YOGURT.
::Sigh:: Sometimes. . .
Friday, October 30, 2009
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