Below is a photo of a feeding tube snaking through an Enteralite pump on its way from the bag of milk to Ben’s cute little belly.
That’s a very fortuitous arrow right there, because that’s the spot where the tube split open. It held on by the tiniest of threads, like Nearly Headless Nick.
Lots of spillage. Some milk got into the inner workings of the pump, rendering it useless. It would alarm over and over, showing us an error message on the display. No pumping was going on.
Now tell me, when do things like this happen? Do these things happen between nine and five on a weekday? Not a chance. These things happen to us at midnight.
On a Saturday.
During spring forward weekend.
That was one happy individual on the other end of the phone, let me tell you. Talking to our medical supplier at midnight, he told me he’d get a delivery guy to bring us a new pump right away. Except it’s a ninety minute drive from them to us.
So here’s the scenario for the poor sap who was on call this past weekend. It’s a little after midnight. Maybe he just lolled off to sleep when he gets a phone call telling him that he’s got to get dressed, go to work and get a replacement pump, and then drive an hour and a half to our house and an hour and a half back.
Since it was so late I thought it only fair that I stay up and wait for him. I didn’t want him standing at the door ringing the non-working doorbell while I lay in bed not hearing him. I got a little caught up on a video game I’d been neglecting. He arrived at that magical hour when the clock turned from 1:59 to 3:00. I thanked him profusely and took the new pump upstairs to start Ben’s overnight feed, albeit a few hours late. He was a little restless in his bed, but calmed down once everything got going again.
As for service, the delivery guy called back Sunday afternoon to make sure everything was working okay.