I stared up at her. “Swallow Lady?
Who’s that?”
“The speech therapist. We don’t
want you choking on your food.”
“I can swallow,” I said. “I’ve been
swallowing a bucketload of pills.”
“Yes, but that’s different,” she said as
she disappeared beyond the curtain.THE SWALLOW LADY
She carried a notebook and pen, and
a bag that contained saltine crackers,
some applesauce, and a box of juice.
The Swallow Lady. “Are you ready for
the tests?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, ready to show her I
could swallow.
She leaned over the bed and placed
her fingers gently on my throat. “Try
swallowing for me.”
What could be easier? But my mouthwas dry and my throat constricted. I
couldn’t swallow. The harder I tried,
the more my throat tightened up.
“Relax,” she said. “Try moistening
your mouth.”
I managed to work up some saliva.
Then my chin pushed forward, my
neck stretched, and I swallowed.
“Good,” she said. “Everything
appears to be working.” She scrib-
bled in her notebook, then passed a
cracker to my good hand. “Now try
eating this, but do it slowly, in little
pieces.”
Immediately, I took a good-sized
bite. The cracker stuck to the roof of
my mouth. I couldn’t chew and only
managed to spit it out.
“Nibble,” she said. “Tiny bits.”
I felt like a fool. How could I not
swallow? But I did as she suggested,110 july/august 2019