A Typical Day in My Life as a Person Living With Dysphagia

A Typical Day in My Life as a Person Living With Dysphagia

From the outside, a person with dysphagia often goes unnoticed, unlike someone with a visible physical disability.

Yet their daily life is organized down to the minute.

For more than three years, following a medical exam that went wrong, I have been living with a tracheostomy and a gastrostomy.

Here is what my days look like.

Morning: a highly structured start

I wake up early, between 4 and 5 a.m. My first gesture is always the same: making my coffee.

I’m addicted to it, and it’s probably the last thing I would ever give up.

Because of the severity of my dysphagia, I add E‑Z Thick to reach a pudding‑like texture.

So I drink my coffee… with a spoon.

While I enjoy this moment, I do my throat‑strengthening exercises as well as my vocal exercises.

For breakfast, I have a bowl of fresh fruit salad from the market, without syrup, and I administer a bottle of IsoSource Fibre+ through my gastrostomy.

My medication is crushed into powder, since I can no longer swallow pills, and is also administered through my gastrostomy.

Meals are slow, eaten in an upright position, with small bites and regular pauses to avoid fatigue.

After eating, I clean my gastrostomy and my tracheostomy.

Late in the morning, I drink water using an oral sponge, then continue with my daily activities.

I also take out from the freezer whatever I planned for lunch.

Lunch: often the most important meal of the day

Preparation takes time: blending, chopping, thickening when needed.

My plate usually includes blended and molded fish, pork, or chicken, served with very well‑cooked vegetables cut into tiny pieces, and mashed potatoes. I also take another bottle of IsoSource.

With a puréed diet, it is almost impossible to reach the number of calories needed to maintain weight and avoid malnutrition.

I always check the temperature of my food, because too hot or too cold makes swallowing more difficult.

I eat in a calm environment, without distractions, so I can stay focused on each swallow.

After the meal, I remain seated for 20 to 30 minutes to prevent reflux, then I clean my stoma.

In the afternoon, I have a snack: fruit purée, pudding, well‑chewed roasted lentils, or mini crisps.

I hydrate regularly using the sponge.

Sometimes I treat myself to a small glass of white wine (half a cup) with ice, which I drink with the sponge.

There is no risk of exceeding any limit — it takes me almost two hours to drink it.

Evening: a light meal and a touch of frustration

Dinner is usually the lightest meal of the day and includes another bottle of IsoSource.

I sometimes feel frustration when I see my partner eating normally, but I’ve developed strategies to keep some pleasure in the meal: a nice presentation, varied flavors, colors.

Night: between cravings and fatigue

In the evening, I watch TV with my partner… and I drool over all the fast‑food commercials.

My brain hasn’t forgotten anything: the taste of a sub, a pizza, a hamburger, or any other food I will never be able to eat again.

What I miss the most are fresh fruits and vegetables — especially a Caesar salad.

About an hour before bed, I crush my medication and administer it through my gastrostomy, then clean my stoma and my tracheostomy.

Fatigue sometimes hits hard, because dysphagia requires enormous mental and physical energy.

I sleep in a semi‑sitting position to help mucus drain during the night.

In Summary

A day in the life of a person with dysphagia is shaped by:
• constant vigilance,
• texture adaptation,
• intentional slowness,
• rehabilitation,
• fatigue management,
• the search for safety at every meal.

But it is also marked by great resilience, adaptability, and the determination to preserve — despite everything — the pleasure of eating.

Testimony of a Mother

Testimony of a Mother

People often associate dysphagia with older adults.
But this is wrong: dysphagia affects every age group  babies, children, teenagers, adults, and of course seniors.

Living with a child who has dysphagia profoundly transforms a parent’s daily life.

It is an experience made of constant vigilance, creative adaptations, emotional fatigue… but also of strength and resilience built day after day.

I recently spoke with the mother of a 9‑year‑old boy living with dysphagia caused by a throat malformation  a stenosis.

Her story reflects what so many families go through.

Constant attention during meals

• Every bite is watched closely.
• Textures must be adapted, mixed, thickened, or modified according to medical recommendations.
• A meal — something that should be simple  becomes a technical act, sometimes an anxiety‑provoking one.

The fear of choking

• Many parents live with a diffuse, sometimes daily, sense of apprehension.
• A simple cough can trigger a rush of adrenaline.
• This vigilance makes mealtimes mentally exhausting.

A feeling of isolation

• People around them don’t always understand why “a simple meal” requires so much preparation.
• Restaurants, birthday parties, or family gatherings become logistical or emotional challenges.
• Some parents end up avoiding these situations to protect their child… and themselves.

A heavy emotional load

• Guilt: “Am I doing this well enough?”
• Worry about growth, nutrition, and the future.
• Frustration with medical delays, trial‑and‑error, and constant adjustments.

An expertise they never asked for

Over time, parents become:

• specialists in textures,
• attentive observers of their child’s physical signals,
• coordinators between speech therapists, nutritionists, and pediatricians,
• inventors of adapted recipes,
• advocates for their child in school and social environments.

And then, there are the victories

They may be small, but they mean everything:
• a new texture tolerated,
• a meal without stress,
• progress in therapy,
• a child’s smile while eating with pleasure.
These small victories often carry immense value.

What we too often forget is that parents of a child with dysphagia are not seeking perfection.
They are seeking safety, dignity, and joy for their child.
They navigate each day between fear and love, between technique and tenderness.
They deserve to be supported, understood, and surrounded.

Official Recognition of June as Dysphagia Awareness Month

ADMO CPAB / BSMA DGCAP (HC/SC)

Dear Ms. Grondin,

Thank you for your email and for sharing your concerns regarding dysphagia. We appreciate your commitment to raising awareness about this condition.

The Government of Canada can recognize a national observance (day, week, or month) such as Dysphagia Awareness Month through several mechanisms, including a ministerial statement, a resolution of the Senate or the House of Commons as mentioned in your message, and finally, legislation.

The most common way for the federal government to recognize such an observance is through a ministerial statement, which does not need to be made in the House of Commons but can be issued annually by the minister.

Following the receipt of your message, the matter will be brought to the attention of the minister’s office so that this option may be considered for June 2026.

Additionally, at Health Canada, we regularly receive requests to recognize awareness events such as Dysphagia Awareness Month. One way to acknowledge them is by adding these events to the Health-Related Days Calendar on Canada.ca.

After review of this awareness month by Health Canada’s program experts and communications team, based on a set of criteria developed to evaluate such requests, it has been deemed to meet the established criteria.

Therefore, Health Canada will officially recognize June as Dysphagia Awareness Month and will add it to its calendar in the coming days.

Link Santé Canada calendar.

Laura Francis-Lamb
Advisor, Office of the Assistant Deputy Minister

Communications and Public Affairs Directorate (DGCAP), Health Canada and the Public Health Agency of Canada