I received my "pre-surgery packet" from Dr. Mayo's office. That's M-A-Y-O. However, the letter from his office referred to him as "Dr. MAY." Hmmmmm.
This packet was supposed to contain all of the information I might need to make plans and prepare.
It told me that I need to report for surgery at 5:30 AM on July 8th. The letter also states that I must be at the hospital "no later than 8:00 AM." Hmmmmm.
Females on birth control pills must stop taking them two months before surgery, per this letter, which I received 4.5 weeks before my surgery. I am not taking birth control pills, but if I were, I would not be happy with the timing of this information. Hmmmmmm.
The letter doesn't mention that I am not to take NSAIDs the week before surgery; I only know that because I asked specifically. What if I hadn't? HELLO, I have a condition which causes a lot of pain here; they must guess I am taking pain killers, as are most of their patients. But no mention of this very important little piece of information.
The fact that I think the office staff is ... um, useless, disorganized, rude and ... um ... well, stupid ... is confirmed. Other information in the letter was equally confusing or poorly worded. So evidently they WANT to get follow-up phone calls from confused patients, instead of re-writing the letter to make it actually useful and informative. I intend to waste their time with a phone call later today in order to get all of the now-lingering questions answered. I can't imagine I'll be the first to do so.
I do trust Dr. Mayo. But I'm starting to wonder about his judgment in choosing office staff. I just hope he has more attention to detail than they do, or I fear I'll end up with my left elbow attached to my right buttock when surgery is over, or something equally horrible. Yikes, my apprehension level has just gone up another notch.
Showing posts with label Anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anger. Show all posts
Friday, June 5, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Dating Dilemma
Yesterday we closed on our house re-finance. This means we took a bunch of equity out of our house in order to pay for my two surgeries. We also got a hell of a nice interest rate on our mortgage (4.75%, yippee), so we feel pretty good about that part of it. Not so good about having to raid essentially all of my non-retirement life savings in order to pay for surgery, of course.
Since I’m now funded, in case Aetna doesn’t want to play nice, I talked to the surgeon’s office today about getting an exact date in July. If I get the date I want (July 1), that’s only a bit over 8 weeks away, and there is so much to do between now and then.
They replied that they are “not ready” to schedule July because they are “not sure what they are doing quite yet.” Huh? Does that mean they may or may not be around in July? I want to have confidence in the people who will be cutting my pelvis apart and screwing it back together. I don’t have high confidence in people who are “not sure what they are doing.”
This answer also ticks me off. Do they not realize that I need to schedule time off work (and frankly, it’s not going to be easy for those at my office when I’m gone), file papers for STD and FMLA, get a bye on my coveted downtown parking spot, order a hospital bed for my home, order other post-surgical necessities, get a hotel room in Tacoma for the night before surgery, donate blood for myself (twice), get an appointment for a pre-surgery physical with my GP (who normally has a THREE MONTH lead time), etc., etc., etc. These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head.
I know doctors put a premium on nobody’s time but their own (no offense intended, any MDs that are reading this, but you know I’m right). That is why you can wait an hour and a half to see a doctor for 20 minutes, and there is no guilt or remorse shown by the doc or the staff. So perhaps this surgery scheduling is done last minute, so that I can scramble to get everything done, because the surgeon doesn’t believe that I have a life outside of their operating table to deal with beforehand.
Yes, I am feeling pissy. I have been recently promoted at work, and so I’m working a lot of hours and taking on a lot of new responsibility, all of which will be put on hold somehow for 6 – 8 weeks starting in July, which is just around the corner. I have to get everything in order with my staff and projects before then. I am doing some traveling to judge and for vacation, so I’m not going to be at anyone’s beck and call to just run on down to the blood donation center. I have scheduled a week-long visit from my stepdaughter, who I haven’t seen in a couple of years. My stepson is graduating from high school, and we are having a party. And on, and on, and on, the same list of real-life things to do that any of my hip sisters probably had before their surgeries as well. I will be putting most of my life on hold post-surgery, as will my husband, and my mother, who has promised to stay with me during the day while my husband is at work. Other family members and friends have been equally generous with their future time.
I am a project manager by trade and temperament. I need a time line. I need a countdown. I am at odds with nothing to plan toward except a vague “July.” I need a surgery date.
Since I’m now funded, in case Aetna doesn’t want to play nice, I talked to the surgeon’s office today about getting an exact date in July. If I get the date I want (July 1), that’s only a bit over 8 weeks away, and there is so much to do between now and then.
They replied that they are “not ready” to schedule July because they are “not sure what they are doing quite yet.” Huh? Does that mean they may or may not be around in July? I want to have confidence in the people who will be cutting my pelvis apart and screwing it back together. I don’t have high confidence in people who are “not sure what they are doing.”
This answer also ticks me off. Do they not realize that I need to schedule time off work (and frankly, it’s not going to be easy for those at my office when I’m gone), file papers for STD and FMLA, get a bye on my coveted downtown parking spot, order a hospital bed for my home, order other post-surgical necessities, get a hotel room in Tacoma for the night before surgery, donate blood for myself (twice), get an appointment for a pre-surgery physical with my GP (who normally has a THREE MONTH lead time), etc., etc., etc. These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head.
I know doctors put a premium on nobody’s time but their own (no offense intended, any MDs that are reading this, but you know I’m right). That is why you can wait an hour and a half to see a doctor for 20 minutes, and there is no guilt or remorse shown by the doc or the staff. So perhaps this surgery scheduling is done last minute, so that I can scramble to get everything done, because the surgeon doesn’t believe that I have a life outside of their operating table to deal with beforehand.
Yes, I am feeling pissy. I have been recently promoted at work, and so I’m working a lot of hours and taking on a lot of new responsibility, all of which will be put on hold somehow for 6 – 8 weeks starting in July, which is just around the corner. I have to get everything in order with my staff and projects before then. I am doing some traveling to judge and for vacation, so I’m not going to be at anyone’s beck and call to just run on down to the blood donation center. I have scheduled a week-long visit from my stepdaughter, who I haven’t seen in a couple of years. My stepson is graduating from high school, and we are having a party. And on, and on, and on, the same list of real-life things to do that any of my hip sisters probably had before their surgeries as well. I will be putting most of my life on hold post-surgery, as will my husband, and my mother, who has promised to stay with me during the day while my husband is at work. Other family members and friends have been equally generous with their future time.
I am a project manager by trade and temperament. I need a time line. I need a countdown. I am at odds with nothing to plan toward except a vague “July.” I need a surgery date.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
It's the standing, stupid
While working out last night, I was reminded of my lifelong disgust with myself for never being able to “get fit.” No matter how much I worked out, it seemed my leg muscles would never get used to exercise and my legs always tired quickly and started to ache.
When I lived in Colorado, in my 30’s, I walked 3 to 5 miles every day in my hilly neighborhood. Since I lived on a mountain this was also a way to see wildlife and enjoy the outdoors. I was already athletic so walking seemed easy in some ways – I didn’t get out of breath – but my legs hurt while I was walking and after. So I figured I needed to just keep walking and over time my muscles would build up to the task and the pain would stop.
I walked for 4 years, after buying the latest in cushioned walking shoes, and I walked on dirt trails which I realize now were softer and better for my hips than concrete, but my “muscles” never stopped hurting. The same thing happened if I went to an aerobics class, or did any kind of high impact cardio training. I cursed myself for being such a weenie and just did it anyway. I trained harder, hoping that would do it. I always wondered why everyone else was in better shape (meaning able to walk just fine) without even trying.
When I started skating again I had the same achy leg issues, but put them firmly in the back of my mind. It always bothered me that despite all of that exercise it never got better and I was still “out of shape.” When I tested or competed I had to be very careful not to warm up much so that my legs wouldn’t be “dead” by the time I performed. It was hard for me to reconcile that I just didn’t have any stamina in my legs, although my lungs were fine. I learned how to conserve my energy for when it was needed.
Last night I was doing some standing leg exercises. The leg doing the weight lifting was fine. But the leg I was standing on, putting all my weight on in fact, instantly had that same “muscle” pain and tiredness I used to get. I realize now based on the location of the pain that it wasn’t my muscles that were aching at all. It was my femur bone slamming into my acetabulum that was causing the pain, because my acetabulum doesn’t cover the femur properly. So, all my life, all of my weight has been borne by a very small part of the bone. No amount of training was going to make that pain go away. I just trained myself to ignore it.
I am glad the mystery is solved. It will be nice to some day be able to stand on my leg and have the weight of my body correctly distributed over a larger surface area so I won’t have that aching tired sensation. When both surgeries/recoveries are over I’ll be almost 50 years old, and if all goes well I may just be able to stand and walk normally for the first time in my life.
When I lived in Colorado, in my 30’s, I walked 3 to 5 miles every day in my hilly neighborhood. Since I lived on a mountain this was also a way to see wildlife and enjoy the outdoors. I was already athletic so walking seemed easy in some ways – I didn’t get out of breath – but my legs hurt while I was walking and after. So I figured I needed to just keep walking and over time my muscles would build up to the task and the pain would stop.
I walked for 4 years, after buying the latest in cushioned walking shoes, and I walked on dirt trails which I realize now were softer and better for my hips than concrete, but my “muscles” never stopped hurting. The same thing happened if I went to an aerobics class, or did any kind of high impact cardio training. I cursed myself for being such a weenie and just did it anyway. I trained harder, hoping that would do it. I always wondered why everyone else was in better shape (meaning able to walk just fine) without even trying.
When I started skating again I had the same achy leg issues, but put them firmly in the back of my mind. It always bothered me that despite all of that exercise it never got better and I was still “out of shape.” When I tested or competed I had to be very careful not to warm up much so that my legs wouldn’t be “dead” by the time I performed. It was hard for me to reconcile that I just didn’t have any stamina in my legs, although my lungs were fine. I learned how to conserve my energy for when it was needed.
Last night I was doing some standing leg exercises. The leg doing the weight lifting was fine. But the leg I was standing on, putting all my weight on in fact, instantly had that same “muscle” pain and tiredness I used to get. I realize now based on the location of the pain that it wasn’t my muscles that were aching at all. It was my femur bone slamming into my acetabulum that was causing the pain, because my acetabulum doesn’t cover the femur properly. So, all my life, all of my weight has been borne by a very small part of the bone. No amount of training was going to make that pain go away. I just trained myself to ignore it.
I am glad the mystery is solved. It will be nice to some day be able to stand on my leg and have the weight of my body correctly distributed over a larger surface area so I won’t have that aching tired sensation. When both surgeries/recoveries are over I’ll be almost 50 years old, and if all goes well I may just be able to stand and walk normally for the first time in my life.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Thank you, Dr. Tennant
I re-read my very first couple of posts here today. Yes, I'm talking about those shocked and angry posts that I wrote post diagnosis. At the time I was pissed off about how the orthopedist, Dr. Tennant, gave me the bad news. I was particularly peeved that he had told me I had to quit skating, as if he were telling a diabetic to lay off the candy. I was angry that he assumed skating was a trivial part of my life. I was angry that he thought swimming or elliptical training could take the place of skating for me since they all were "exercise." I was angry that he didn't react with any empathy to my distress over this catastrophic new state of affairs in my life. I was angry at his monotone delivery. I was angry that he had no other answers for me.
Well, I am still skating of course (shhhh, don't tell). I am not jumping and never will again, but my primary focus has been ice dancing, not freestyle, so really it's no great loss. The fact that I took up jumping again on a whim a few weeks before my diagnosis tells me that flirting with freestyle probably exacerbated my condition. But that realization isn't what's prompting me to post today.
I have read so many accounts of people with hip dysplasia being misdiagnosed. This seems odd to me since even I can now look at x-rays and diagnose hip dysplasia. OK, I'll admit that I'm no expert, but it seems pretty obvious to me. As poor as his bedside manner was, I have to thank Dr. Tennant for correctly diagnosing me, for knowing about PAO (it amazes me how many orthopedists have never heard of PAO) and for referring me to one of the best specialists in the country for hip dysplasia and PAO. I realize now that I could have been misdiagnosed, given bad advice, subjected to surgeries which would not have done any good, or perhaps told that nothing at all could be done.
Had I been told nothing could be done, I may have waited years until my arthritis progressed to the point that nothing really could have been done. As it is, my dysplasia is severe but my arthritis is mild. I am the kind of person that PAO is most likely to help.
Dr. Tennant, I didn't like you very much in August. I guess I wanted to shoot the messenger, and I will say your delivery leaves something to be desired. I have to thank you though for pointing me in the right direction. The alternatives would have been far worse.
Well, I am still skating of course (shhhh, don't tell). I am not jumping and never will again, but my primary focus has been ice dancing, not freestyle, so really it's no great loss. The fact that I took up jumping again on a whim a few weeks before my diagnosis tells me that flirting with freestyle probably exacerbated my condition. But that realization isn't what's prompting me to post today.
I have read so many accounts of people with hip dysplasia being misdiagnosed. This seems odd to me since even I can now look at x-rays and diagnose hip dysplasia. OK, I'll admit that I'm no expert, but it seems pretty obvious to me. As poor as his bedside manner was, I have to thank Dr. Tennant for correctly diagnosing me, for knowing about PAO (it amazes me how many orthopedists have never heard of PAO) and for referring me to one of the best specialists in the country for hip dysplasia and PAO. I realize now that I could have been misdiagnosed, given bad advice, subjected to surgeries which would not have done any good, or perhaps told that nothing at all could be done.
Had I been told nothing could be done, I may have waited years until my arthritis progressed to the point that nothing really could have been done. As it is, my dysplasia is severe but my arthritis is mild. I am the kind of person that PAO is most likely to help.
Dr. Tennant, I didn't like you very much in August. I guess I wanted to shoot the messenger, and I will say your delivery leaves something to be desired. I have to thank you though for pointing me in the right direction. The alternatives would have been far worse.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
It's official ...
I'm depressed.
I met with a counselor from my employer’s EAP on Monday. She told me that I am “grieving,” that my response is normal, and that it is going to take a long time to come to terms with things, accept them, and transition to my new life circumstances. I have been going through all the classic phases of grief – anger, denial, bargaining, depression, bitchiness, crankiness, sarcasm, uncontrolled swearing, and whininess. OK, see, I still have my sense of humor. Kind of.
It was good to have a professional validate my feelings. It’s OK for me to feel crappy. If anyone tells me that “it will be all right” or “other people have it much worse than I do,” I have a right to slap them silly and walk away. I know other people have it much worse than I do. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have a right to feel pissed off about my own rather crappy situation.
Throwing fuel on the fire, I’ve been in contact with my surgeon’s office trying to understand WHY Aetna doesn’t cover PAO. They have not given me a very good reason and I need to understand so I can take action. In typical condescending doctor’s office speak, they told me to butt out and let them handle it. They also told me, in exactly these words, that I am “not the only patient feeling the financial pressures.” Duh. My response was that I am operating on the concept of "you have to look out for yourself and your own health care because nobody else will." It’s not that I don’t want to help all of the other people feeling the financial pressures out there, but right now I can only fight for myself. It's called the survival instinct.
So who out there is curious about why Aetna denies PAOs? It’s not what you think. No, it's not that they can't spell "dysplasia." It’s not that they don’t like people who walk funny. It’s not even that there haven’t been enough research studies done. No, according to what I’m hearing, it’s because there is no procedure code for this operation. Doctors bill it using the code 27299, which means “unlisted procedure.” And, seeing that it’s "unlisted," Aetna promptly denies it.
What? Are you kidding me? This has to be the most asinine thing I have ever heard. Does this mean they don’t even read the file to find out what was done? They see that something “unlisted” was done and they just say NO? Please, give me a break. Based on all of the hip women I know, quite a few of these procedures are being done. Can’t the insurers and doctors, ahem, let’s see, I need to think really hard about this because I’m not as smart as they are… can’t they just CREATE A CODE????
WAIT, I know, maybe it’s a computer programming issue. Maybe the computers need the codes to be 5 digits, and all of the digits between 00000 and 99999 have already been assigned. That must be it. We’re out of codes! There are no more! So, medical scientists, you might as well stop doing any research or coming up with new operations and procedures, because when it comes to coding them you are SOL.
Of course I don’t really think that’s the issue, but I can’t comprehend what the issue might actually be. Someone help me out here. How fucking difficult can it be to create a 5-digit number?
The doctor’s office also told me that they won’t schedule any more surgeries until they either have authorization in hand from the insurance company OR the patient signs an agreement up front promising to pay cash for the surgery (at the bargain cash price of $70,000 for each hip). I told them to keep my July date and that yes, I’d pay cash if I had to. Send me the agreement and I'll sign it.
OK, so after this news, I decided it was time for the icing on the cake of my day … looking at my retirement funds and figuring out if I have enough money to pay for this. My retirement funds have taken a huge hit. I guess that should not be news to anyone reading this since I've recently discovered that "I am not the only one feeling the financial pressures." Could the timing for this be any worse? We're in the middle of the worst recession since perhaps the great depression and I need to sell investments?
All three of my retirement vehicles are down, way down, but the good news is that if I cash out right now, the funds I have accumulated as a result of the last 25 years of living frugally so that I can fully fund my retirement will be enough to pay for two surgeries, with a little left over to buy some new underwear. My life savings can get me my PAO. And, by July of next year, who knows, the market may go up!! Or, it may go down and I'll have to forego the underwear!! I have no idea!!
Just when I thought the day could not get any worse, I talked to H.R. at my employer about the logistics for taking a hardship withdrawal from my 401(k). I explained the situation. I told them that I was not pleased with our medical plan's policies. Here, verbatim for your amusement, is their reply.
“Terri:
I'm so sorry---it sounds like a difficult time. {EDITOR'S NOTE: NO KIDDING}
It's true medical plans do not cover all services. The good news is that according to our benchmark surveys, most employers have increased deductibles, premiums and co-pays this year. Our plans have none of these changes this year. While the plans won't cover everything, we're working hard to help you maintain the best coverage possible.”
What, medical plans do not cover all services? No Shit. It’s not like I’m asking them to pay for botox injections, for crying out loud. This is a real surgery, for a real condition, causing real pain and disability. It is not elective. It is not experimental. It is not optional for me.
But thanks guys, thanks for the great news! I’ll sleep so much better at night knowing that my deductibles, premiums and co-pays will not be increasing this year, even though the plan won’t cover everything … in fact, the plan won’t cover ANYTHING that I need, but at least it won't cost me more. And best of all, I GET THE BEST COVERAGE POSSIBLE. Yee haw! Party time! Pardon me while I PUKE and SCREAM and CRY and SWEAR.
It’s all part of that grieving process I’m going through.
I met with a counselor from my employer’s EAP on Monday. She told me that I am “grieving,” that my response is normal, and that it is going to take a long time to come to terms with things, accept them, and transition to my new life circumstances. I have been going through all the classic phases of grief – anger, denial, bargaining, depression, bitchiness, crankiness, sarcasm, uncontrolled swearing, and whininess. OK, see, I still have my sense of humor. Kind of.
It was good to have a professional validate my feelings. It’s OK for me to feel crappy. If anyone tells me that “it will be all right” or “other people have it much worse than I do,” I have a right to slap them silly and walk away. I know other people have it much worse than I do. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have a right to feel pissed off about my own rather crappy situation.
Throwing fuel on the fire, I’ve been in contact with my surgeon’s office trying to understand WHY Aetna doesn’t cover PAO. They have not given me a very good reason and I need to understand so I can take action. In typical condescending doctor’s office speak, they told me to butt out and let them handle it. They also told me, in exactly these words, that I am “not the only patient feeling the financial pressures.” Duh. My response was that I am operating on the concept of "you have to look out for yourself and your own health care because nobody else will." It’s not that I don’t want to help all of the other people feeling the financial pressures out there, but right now I can only fight for myself. It's called the survival instinct.
So who out there is curious about why Aetna denies PAOs? It’s not what you think. No, it's not that they can't spell "dysplasia." It’s not that they don’t like people who walk funny. It’s not even that there haven’t been enough research studies done. No, according to what I’m hearing, it’s because there is no procedure code for this operation. Doctors bill it using the code 27299, which means “unlisted procedure.” And, seeing that it’s "unlisted," Aetna promptly denies it.
What? Are you kidding me? This has to be the most asinine thing I have ever heard. Does this mean they don’t even read the file to find out what was done? They see that something “unlisted” was done and they just say NO? Please, give me a break. Based on all of the hip women I know, quite a few of these procedures are being done. Can’t the insurers and doctors, ahem, let’s see, I need to think really hard about this because I’m not as smart as they are… can’t they just CREATE A CODE????
WAIT, I know, maybe it’s a computer programming issue. Maybe the computers need the codes to be 5 digits, and all of the digits between 00000 and 99999 have already been assigned. That must be it. We’re out of codes! There are no more! So, medical scientists, you might as well stop doing any research or coming up with new operations and procedures, because when it comes to coding them you are SOL.
Of course I don’t really think that’s the issue, but I can’t comprehend what the issue might actually be. Someone help me out here. How fucking difficult can it be to create a 5-digit number?
The doctor’s office also told me that they won’t schedule any more surgeries until they either have authorization in hand from the insurance company OR the patient signs an agreement up front promising to pay cash for the surgery (at the bargain cash price of $70,000 for each hip). I told them to keep my July date and that yes, I’d pay cash if I had to. Send me the agreement and I'll sign it.
OK, so after this news, I decided it was time for the icing on the cake of my day … looking at my retirement funds and figuring out if I have enough money to pay for this. My retirement funds have taken a huge hit. I guess that should not be news to anyone reading this since I've recently discovered that "I am not the only one feeling the financial pressures." Could the timing for this be any worse? We're in the middle of the worst recession since perhaps the great depression and I need to sell investments?
All three of my retirement vehicles are down, way down, but the good news is that if I cash out right now, the funds I have accumulated as a result of the last 25 years of living frugally so that I can fully fund my retirement will be enough to pay for two surgeries, with a little left over to buy some new underwear. My life savings can get me my PAO. And, by July of next year, who knows, the market may go up!! Or, it may go down and I'll have to forego the underwear!! I have no idea!!
Just when I thought the day could not get any worse, I talked to H.R. at my employer about the logistics for taking a hardship withdrawal from my 401(k). I explained the situation. I told them that I was not pleased with our medical plan's policies. Here, verbatim for your amusement, is their reply.
“Terri:
I'm so sorry---it sounds like a difficult time. {EDITOR'S NOTE: NO KIDDING}
It's true medical plans do not cover all services. The good news is that according to our benchmark surveys, most employers have increased deductibles, premiums and co-pays this year. Our plans have none of these changes this year. While the plans won't cover everything, we're working hard to help you maintain the best coverage possible.”
What, medical plans do not cover all services? No Shit. It’s not like I’m asking them to pay for botox injections, for crying out loud. This is a real surgery, for a real condition, causing real pain and disability. It is not elective. It is not experimental. It is not optional for me.
But thanks guys, thanks for the great news! I’ll sleep so much better at night knowing that my deductibles, premiums and co-pays will not be increasing this year, even though the plan won’t cover everything … in fact, the plan won’t cover ANYTHING that I need, but at least it won't cost me more. And best of all, I GET THE BEST COVERAGE POSSIBLE. Yee haw! Party time! Pardon me while I PUKE and SCREAM and CRY and SWEAR.
It’s all part of that grieving process I’m going through.
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Big Betrayal
I sometimes feel betrayed by my body. All these years I’ve taken pretty good care of it. I’ve been lucky to have had very good health all my life. I don’t smoke, rarely drink, don’t overdo the caffeine even though I live in Starbucks Land, eat right, and exercise. I am the type of person my insurance company loves – no claims, just the yearly wellness stuff, and meanwhile I subsidize everyone else’s bad health habits. Until now, when we find out that hey, I’m all broken! I have to be taken apart and put back together again in order to work right!
I did pilates a couple of years ago to become more flexible. My back was pretty flexible and my upper body can do interesting things, but no matter how much stretching or strengthening I did, my bones wouldn’t change their shape, and so my lower body was as inflexible as a piece of wood. It was so totally frustrating. My pilates teacher, Angela, is a skater and I had private lessons with her. I stretched at home every night. She was patient and tried everything with me. I eventually just gave up in frustration.
I’ve started using the cane more and more, and will soon get crutches. Not that I really need crutches yet (although the cane has been helpful). But I want to learn how to use assistive devices now, while I’m still pretty mobile, and not in the hospital the morning after surgery when I’m wandering around in a drug-induced fog with my butt cheeks hanging out of my gown. It also may help to keep some pressure off the joints before I go under the knife.
I wrote an e-mail to my co-workers explaining what was going on so they wouldn’t be appalled to see me with a cane at work on a regular basis. I showed up at the rink with the cane for the first time just so everyone could stare at me without feeling badly about it and get used to the idea.
People ask questions once they get over the shock. I know they all mean well, but after a while I just want to wear a t-shirt or carry a sign, or maybe just hand everyone an FAQ sheet:
~No, I didn’t fall down and hurt myself. Boy, do I wish that’s all it was!
~No, I’m not “injured” – my body was put together wrong.
~What happened? Well, actually, nothing “happened,” I was born this way.
~Thank you for saying you hope I get better soon, but I won’t get better, I’ll only get worse until surgery fixes me.
Carrying things while using a cane is difficult. I have a purse which is really a backpack and I dug it out and it works great! I think crutches will be really, really super-specially fun. Being on them may cure me of my daily latte habit since I see no way to carry a hot cup of espresso in the backpack while on crutches. My husband, who is very handy, will probably rig something up to make this possible. Although I suppose I don’t really need the crutches to cross the street and get coffee. After all, I can still walk on my own for now.
I wrote this in an e-mail today to Angela:
"It has been an enlightening journey to find out just how badly put together my body is, but it explains so many things about my inabilities and physical challenges throughout my life. It's good to know it's not just that I'm lazy, or that my muscles are tight, or that it's all in my head. It's a relief to have a reason now."
I did pilates a couple of years ago to become more flexible. My back was pretty flexible and my upper body can do interesting things, but no matter how much stretching or strengthening I did, my bones wouldn’t change their shape, and so my lower body was as inflexible as a piece of wood. It was so totally frustrating. My pilates teacher, Angela, is a skater and I had private lessons with her. I stretched at home every night. She was patient and tried everything with me. I eventually just gave up in frustration.
I’ve started using the cane more and more, and will soon get crutches. Not that I really need crutches yet (although the cane has been helpful). But I want to learn how to use assistive devices now, while I’m still pretty mobile, and not in the hospital the morning after surgery when I’m wandering around in a drug-induced fog with my butt cheeks hanging out of my gown. It also may help to keep some pressure off the joints before I go under the knife.
I wrote an e-mail to my co-workers explaining what was going on so they wouldn’t be appalled to see me with a cane at work on a regular basis. I showed up at the rink with the cane for the first time just so everyone could stare at me without feeling badly about it and get used to the idea.
People ask questions once they get over the shock. I know they all mean well, but after a while I just want to wear a t-shirt or carry a sign, or maybe just hand everyone an FAQ sheet:
~No, I didn’t fall down and hurt myself. Boy, do I wish that’s all it was!
~No, I’m not “injured” – my body was put together wrong.
~What happened? Well, actually, nothing “happened,” I was born this way.
~Thank you for saying you hope I get better soon, but I won’t get better, I’ll only get worse until surgery fixes me.
Carrying things while using a cane is difficult. I have a purse which is really a backpack and I dug it out and it works great! I think crutches will be really, really super-specially fun. Being on them may cure me of my daily latte habit since I see no way to carry a hot cup of espresso in the backpack while on crutches. My husband, who is very handy, will probably rig something up to make this possible. Although I suppose I don’t really need the crutches to cross the street and get coffee. After all, I can still walk on my own for now.
I wrote this in an e-mail today to Angela:
"It has been an enlightening journey to find out just how badly put together my body is, but it explains so many things about my inabilities and physical challenges throughout my life. It's good to know it's not just that I'm lazy, or that my muscles are tight, or that it's all in my head. It's a relief to have a reason now."
Friday, October 31, 2008
PAO - my insurance company's view
"Management of individuals blah blah blah with this malady blah blah blah includes: modification of activities to reduce excessive motion and burden on the hip, the use of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, and discontinuation of activities associated with the painful hip movement."
Their answer = stop skating and that will solve the problem. Therefore such surgery is "not necessary."
Of course, if I stop exercising I will gain 50 pounds (I like to eat) which will open the way to heart disease, high blood pressure, knee pain, and diabetes, and then the fuckers will get to pay for my treatment for those things.
The surgeon's PA is trying to negotiate with the insurance company through their contract agreement and should have an answer by June of 2009, which is why my surgery is penciled in for July of 2009. They asked me not to interfere unless that does not work and I will honor that. After that, I will be getting my attorney involved. Good thing I have one in the family.
Terri
Their answer = stop skating and that will solve the problem. Therefore such surgery is "not necessary."
Of course, if I stop exercising I will gain 50 pounds (I like to eat) which will open the way to heart disease, high blood pressure, knee pain, and diabetes, and then the fuckers will get to pay for my treatment for those things.
The surgeon's PA is trying to negotiate with the insurance company through their contract agreement and should have an answer by June of 2009, which is why my surgery is penciled in for July of 2009. They asked me not to interfere unless that does not work and I will honor that. After that, I will be getting my attorney involved. Good thing I have one in the family.
Terri
Thursday, October 30, 2008
PAO
I finally got in to see the specialist today, after a 3 month wait. He specializes in people with my deformity, acetabular dysplasia, and he does a lot of pelvic reconstruction from trauma. He is very well regarded.
He told me that I was a good candidate for periacetabular osteotomy (PAO), and that a hip replacement or resurfacing would not work well because my hip sockets are so shallow. An artificial hip would probably fail fairly soon since there would be poor structure to hold it in place.
They took more x-rays and also did a CT scan to determine whether my legs were the same length and how much my femurs were misshapen. At the end of the day (and, with 4 hours of drive time, we are talking ALL DAY), it turns out that I have multiple problems. Very severe dysplasia, meaning very shallow hip sockets. Not a mild case. This had not been evident from the first films. I have stage 1 arthritis in both hips which, once pain is present, usually quickly degrades to stages 2, 3, and 4. Also, my femurs turn inward ("anteversion"), which I knew, but mine do so in the extreme, meaning my femurs are actually twisted. So that entails another surgery, where they break the femur and insert a plate. The PAO means they cut my pelvis up and reposition it, inserting screws. Some day I'll have a fully metallic pelvis - TSA will love me.
The upside is decrease in pain (although I may still have some residual pain), a more stable hip and leg structure, a slowdown or stop to the arthritis, and potentially no need for future hip replacement. If I do need future hip replacement, my bone structure will be much more amenable, meaning less likely to fail, after PAO.
Downside is that I may have less range of motion, although the femur revision may give me some more turnout. Normal turnout is 30 degrees, and I have less than 5 degrees - "essentially zero" as the doctor put it. I do have excellent "turn in," which is ever so ugly in skating. All of this means it didn't matter how many plies I did, I would never ever ever ever ever ever ever be able to do an Ina Bauer. The rhumba choctaw? Impossible for someone built like me (yet I do it ... my way). All the coaches and ballet teachers who said I just wasn't trying hard enough ... well, you know the gesture. I'm too emotionally drained to get upset about it again.
Another downside is that I will be in the hospital for 5 - 7 days, non-weight bearing for 8 weeks post surgery, and unable to skate for 6 months, at which time they will do the other hip! So this is really 4 surgeries and 2 hospitalizations and a year off the ice in total. The thought of getting my strength, stamina, flexibility, balance and skill back in my late 40's after going through something like that boggles my mind right now. I know it's possible, but will I just give up and take up golf? It's entirely possible.
Finally, my insurance doesn't pay for this. The total cost PER SURGERY is roughly $150,000. That's right, them's a lot of zeroes. And then multiply that times two. And oh yeah, will the insurance company pay for the special hospital bed I need at my home for a month, and the physical therapy, when they don't even cover the surgery? I'm thinking not so much. The doctor's billing assistant said they are working to get this covered and if I wait until next summer (which I have to do anyway), they may have made progress.
I could have raided my 401(k) or my home equity at one point, but in this economy that's just not an option. How to pay for it is a big question, but I have time to ponder that as they can't even schedule me until next summer. I am tentatively penciled in for July, pending the funding issue.
A year off the ice is an awful reality to face. I'm not ready for that. I am still improving as a skater! I am still competing! I am still testing international dances! I am not ready to quit and not ready to have a forced hiatus which I'll need to fight back from.
Hip replacement has a much shorter down time and is paid for by my insurance. But, if I trust what I heard today, it won't be very successful for me. It sounds like my options are limited.
Meanwhile I will continue skating until the pain gets too hard to bear. Right now it is pretty constant, but sleeping is the worst. Skating isn't as painful as sitting. Maybe I will get some crutches so I can keep the weight off it all the time except for that hour or so when I'm on the ice. No cross training as I can't risk it. But I vow to get through this competitive season - I've made a commitment to Tim which I think I can keep -- and then take the next step.
He told me that I was a good candidate for periacetabular osteotomy (PAO), and that a hip replacement or resurfacing would not work well because my hip sockets are so shallow. An artificial hip would probably fail fairly soon since there would be poor structure to hold it in place.
They took more x-rays and also did a CT scan to determine whether my legs were the same length and how much my femurs were misshapen. At the end of the day (and, with 4 hours of drive time, we are talking ALL DAY), it turns out that I have multiple problems. Very severe dysplasia, meaning very shallow hip sockets. Not a mild case. This had not been evident from the first films. I have stage 1 arthritis in both hips which, once pain is present, usually quickly degrades to stages 2, 3, and 4. Also, my femurs turn inward ("anteversion"), which I knew, but mine do so in the extreme, meaning my femurs are actually twisted. So that entails another surgery, where they break the femur and insert a plate. The PAO means they cut my pelvis up and reposition it, inserting screws. Some day I'll have a fully metallic pelvis - TSA will love me.
The upside is decrease in pain (although I may still have some residual pain), a more stable hip and leg structure, a slowdown or stop to the arthritis, and potentially no need for future hip replacement. If I do need future hip replacement, my bone structure will be much more amenable, meaning less likely to fail, after PAO.
Downside is that I may have less range of motion, although the femur revision may give me some more turnout. Normal turnout is 30 degrees, and I have less than 5 degrees - "essentially zero" as the doctor put it. I do have excellent "turn in," which is ever so ugly in skating. All of this means it didn't matter how many plies I did, I would never ever ever ever ever ever ever be able to do an Ina Bauer. The rhumba choctaw? Impossible for someone built like me (yet I do it ... my way). All the coaches and ballet teachers who said I just wasn't trying hard enough ... well, you know the gesture. I'm too emotionally drained to get upset about it again.
Another downside is that I will be in the hospital for 5 - 7 days, non-weight bearing for 8 weeks post surgery, and unable to skate for 6 months, at which time they will do the other hip! So this is really 4 surgeries and 2 hospitalizations and a year off the ice in total. The thought of getting my strength, stamina, flexibility, balance and skill back in my late 40's after going through something like that boggles my mind right now. I know it's possible, but will I just give up and take up golf? It's entirely possible.
Finally, my insurance doesn't pay for this. The total cost PER SURGERY is roughly $150,000. That's right, them's a lot of zeroes. And then multiply that times two. And oh yeah, will the insurance company pay for the special hospital bed I need at my home for a month, and the physical therapy, when they don't even cover the surgery? I'm thinking not so much. The doctor's billing assistant said they are working to get this covered and if I wait until next summer (which I have to do anyway), they may have made progress.
I could have raided my 401(k) or my home equity at one point, but in this economy that's just not an option. How to pay for it is a big question, but I have time to ponder that as they can't even schedule me until next summer. I am tentatively penciled in for July, pending the funding issue.
A year off the ice is an awful reality to face. I'm not ready for that. I am still improving as a skater! I am still competing! I am still testing international dances! I am not ready to quit and not ready to have a forced hiatus which I'll need to fight back from.
Hip replacement has a much shorter down time and is paid for by my insurance. But, if I trust what I heard today, it won't be very successful for me. It sounds like my options are limited.
Meanwhile I will continue skating until the pain gets too hard to bear. Right now it is pretty constant, but sleeping is the worst. Skating isn't as painful as sitting. Maybe I will get some crutches so I can keep the weight off it all the time except for that hour or so when I'm on the ice. No cross training as I can't risk it. But I vow to get through this competitive season - I've made a commitment to Tim which I think I can keep -- and then take the next step.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Thank yous
Thanks to all who have written me privately. The response has been truly overwhelming. It upholds my belief that ice dancers (and adult skaters in general) are some of the friendliest, kindest and most caring people in the world.
I am over my shock, anger, depression and denial (I think there are 4 more steps but now is the time for action so I’m postponing those). Tim and I have been skating, albeit a bit cautiously. I’m walking slowly and sitting gingerly but I’m not out of commission yet.
There are some encouraging surgical options out there (possibly not covered by my insurance company as they are considered “experimental,” but I really need new hips more than I need a remodeled kitchen) and so I am not giving up. Many of you out there are skating on artificial hips and I have been so encouraged by your stories.
I need some time to process all of the information I’ve received. I’ll keep everyone posted. Terri
I am over my shock, anger, depression and denial (I think there are 4 more steps but now is the time for action so I’m postponing those). Tim and I have been skating, albeit a bit cautiously. I’m walking slowly and sitting gingerly but I’m not out of commission yet.
There are some encouraging surgical options out there (possibly not covered by my insurance company as they are considered “experimental,” but I really need new hips more than I need a remodeled kitchen) and so I am not giving up. Many of you out there are skating on artificial hips and I have been so encouraged by your stories.
I need some time to process all of the information I’ve received. I’ll keep everyone posted. Terri
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Possibly Cathartic, Probably Immature,
...and Definitely Angry.
This is an addendum to my post from earlier today regarding my recent hip problems. If you haven't yet, please read that post first.
I realized today that my hip deformity has caused physical and emotional problems for a long time, even though I had no idea that I had this defect until today. This evening while feeling sorry for myself I recalled some of these problems; it is not much comfort now to know the reason behind them but I feel I should list them here for posterity.
I remember in Kindergarten when we were being read to, all of us kids were told we must sit "Indian Style" for 30 minutes (Not such a PC term now, but I'm sure you all know the position I mean.) At age 5 I could only sit that way for a few seconds before my legs started to shake and hurt. My femurs naturally rotate inward, not outward, and so I could then (and still now) more easily sit with my upper legs together with my lower legs turned out in "W" position.
I remember being told that we MUST sit for the half hour reading period INDIAN STYLE, and I was corrected by teachers, publicly, over and over again for being unwilling to sit that way. (Somebody explain the mindset of these Kindergarten Nazi Bitches to me ... I am at a loss.) Sometimes it hurt so much that I would cry. I remember the teachers scolding me for being "a baby" and "disruptive." Nobody thought it was a medical problem; who ever heard of a 5 year old who couldn't sit "Indian Style"? They never told my parents or sent me to a doctor, just strongly suggested to me that I was a bad child. Needless to say, children being the savages that they are, I was picked on mercilessly for being such a loser. Perhaps that's the starting point of some of my more interesting personality quirks.
Kindergarten teachers of mine, if you were here right now you'd be appalled at the highly disruptive and disobedient gesture I'm making in your direction with my middle finger. That's right, this is my blog, and I can do that if I want to. Nyah nyah nyah.
So I didn't see a doctor for the x-rays that would have made it obvious that I needed corrective surgery which, at that young age, would have prevented so many problems I've had since. Problems such as being unable to ride horses, something I love to do, because I can't walk for weeks afterwards due to my stiff and sore hips. Problems such as being yelled at as a teenager by skating coaches because I couldn't do an Ina Bauer (obviously not trying hard enough, probably lazy and bratty to boot). Problems such as difficulty in my late 30's riding a bicycle for more than a mile because my hips hurt (I chalked it up to being out of shape at the time and never rode a bike again). Problems walking over the last 3 years that I attributed to arthritis and old age which have caused me to groan like an old man as I get up and walk stiff-legged after getting up out of my chair at work, which co-workers have found amusing; I did too until it got so bad I realized that it wasn't normal.
{Addendum -- 8/8/08 -- my research reveals that periacetabular osteotomy, the surgical procedure used on children and young adults, was pioneered in 1984, so unfortunately it would not have helped me as a Kindergartner in the late '60's. However, I still wish I'd known about this problem earlier.}
Now it appears I may be too old for that type of surgery, leaving me again with the double hip replacement scenario as my only option, along with a lifetime of memories of things I could never do, or can no longer do, or stopped doing a long time ago.
Yes, I'm feeling sorry for myself, but this is my blog and I can say whatever I want to. Nyah nyah nyah.
This is an addendum to my post from earlier today regarding my recent hip problems. If you haven't yet, please read that post first.
I realized today that my hip deformity has caused physical and emotional problems for a long time, even though I had no idea that I had this defect until today. This evening while feeling sorry for myself I recalled some of these problems; it is not much comfort now to know the reason behind them but I feel I should list them here for posterity.
I remember in Kindergarten when we were being read to, all of us kids were told we must sit "Indian Style" for 30 minutes (Not such a PC term now, but I'm sure you all know the position I mean.) At age 5 I could only sit that way for a few seconds before my legs started to shake and hurt. My femurs naturally rotate inward, not outward, and so I could then (and still now) more easily sit with my upper legs together with my lower legs turned out in "W" position.
I remember being told that we MUST sit for the half hour reading period INDIAN STYLE, and I was corrected by teachers, publicly, over and over again for being unwilling to sit that way. (Somebody explain the mindset of these Kindergarten Nazi Bitches to me ... I am at a loss.) Sometimes it hurt so much that I would cry. I remember the teachers scolding me for being "a baby" and "disruptive." Nobody thought it was a medical problem; who ever heard of a 5 year old who couldn't sit "Indian Style"? They never told my parents or sent me to a doctor, just strongly suggested to me that I was a bad child. Needless to say, children being the savages that they are, I was picked on mercilessly for being such a loser. Perhaps that's the starting point of some of my more interesting personality quirks.
Kindergarten teachers of mine, if you were here right now you'd be appalled at the highly disruptive and disobedient gesture I'm making in your direction with my middle finger. That's right, this is my blog, and I can do that if I want to. Nyah nyah nyah.
So I didn't see a doctor for the x-rays that would have made it obvious that I needed corrective surgery which, at that young age, would have prevented so many problems I've had since. Problems such as being unable to ride horses, something I love to do, because I can't walk for weeks afterwards due to my stiff and sore hips. Problems such as being yelled at as a teenager by skating coaches because I couldn't do an Ina Bauer (obviously not trying hard enough, probably lazy and bratty to boot). Problems such as difficulty in my late 30's riding a bicycle for more than a mile because my hips hurt (I chalked it up to being out of shape at the time and never rode a bike again). Problems walking over the last 3 years that I attributed to arthritis and old age which have caused me to groan like an old man as I get up and walk stiff-legged after getting up out of my chair at work, which co-workers have found amusing; I did too until it got so bad I realized that it wasn't normal.
{Addendum -- 8/8/08 -- my research reveals that periacetabular osteotomy, the surgical procedure used on children and young adults, was pioneered in 1984, so unfortunately it would not have helped me as a Kindergartner in the late '60's. However, I still wish I'd known about this problem earlier.}
Now it appears I may be too old for that type of surgery, leaving me again with the double hip replacement scenario as my only option, along with a lifetime of memories of things I could never do, or can no longer do, or stopped doing a long time ago.
Yes, I'm feeling sorry for myself, but this is my blog and I can say whatever I want to. Nyah nyah nyah.
Hip, Hip ...
You thought I was going to say “hooray,” didn't you! Fooled you.
(Note that this post was originally published on my skating blog, tntsk8.blogspot.com)
I wasn’t going to post about this, but I’m hoping someone reading may have advice for me. My diagnosis today is acetabular dysplasia, a congenital hip deformity. (German Shepherds often have hip dysplasia, so let the dog comparisons begin.) In this abnormality, the socket of the hip does not surround the ball of the joint as it does in a normal hip; those with this condition inevitably have pain, which progressively worsens; they develop arthritis, and eventually need full hip replacement. The edge of the bone may more easily fracture since it is not stable.
Of all the sports to participate in, according to the doctor, skating is just about the worst. Running or other high-impact sports would be the only things that could be worse. The doctor, I must say, was pretty unsympathetic; even though I described how I participate in the sport of ice dancing and what that entails, he clearly thought that my skating was just any old activity because, let’s face it, I’m 45 years old and most people can’t picture us old farts skating any way other than round and round the rink for exercise. I described lifts, and ballroom dancing on ice, etc. but his answer was that I’d need to find a different activity, such as swimming, or no activity at all, which would be easier on my joints. He didn’t seem to understand that skating isn’t just going around in circles; skating is my one and only creative outlet. I've never found any other type of exercise I enjoy as much.
He gave me the name of a specialist and said good-bye.
I did some Internet research and it was then that I realized that for a skater, this was one of the worst possible diagnoses. There are many other career-ending diagnoses of course (knees, head trauma, backs) but this is right up there with the more commonly-seen injuries. The fact that I was born with this and skated for so many years without symptoms, all the while a ticking time bomb, makes this even more difficult to swallow. I will admit that I’ve shed some tears today in the bathroom at work and in my car.
The Internet says that once someone has pain from this condition, the arthritis sets in quickly, so surgery is indicated right away. As the condition worsens, the outcome of surgery is less and less likely to be positive. While there are many people who skate at a high level after hip replacement, I shudder to think of the many ways such a major surgery can go wrong, and that surgery won’t necessarily mean that I’ll be able to skate again at my current level – or walk for that matter. There are no guarantees.
I have always been healthy and never had surgery, so I’m also fearful of the process. Even giving blood is a trauma for me since I have rubbery veins, so the thought of being hospitalized for 5 days or more is truly frightening. I’d almost rather just let the arthritis take its toll, until I think of the true consequences of that. Doing nothing and continuing to skate until I can’t stand the pain any longer is an option, but then I may not be walking when I’m 50. Having surgery which isn’t successful seems like a worse option.
The internet shows that 17% of people having the surgery are able to function at the same level as before when it comes to “athletic activities”; another 37% are able to function well enough to “ambulate.” Those numbers seem particularly disturbing to me. Hip surgery is great when it allows an elderly person to continue functioning so they don’t have to be wheelchair bound. Hip surgery that means I won’t be able to skate any more does me no good at all, and seems like quite a trauma to put myself through.
An aside - this explains why I could never do a spread eagle or an Ina Bauer, despite being able to do Biellmans. Typically people with this type of dysplasia have very little hip turnout, and no amount of stretching can change that - it's just physically impossible for the hips to move that way. To think of all the time I wasted doing plies, pilates, and various other stretches to improve my turnout which never seemed to improve ... and to think of all the coaches who told me I was "just not trying hard enough" to do that Ina Bauer. Well, it's vindication all right, but somehow THAT doesn't feel very good right now.
I’m in a little bit of shock right now since this was not the diagnosis I was expecting (I was hoping more for "you pulled your groin, now rest and ice it for a month then you will be good as new"), but I need time to process this and figure out what I am going to do. Readers, I already know I have your empathy. If any of you have constructive advice, I could sure use some now.
(Note that this post was originally published on my skating blog, tntsk8.blogspot.com)
I wasn’t going to post about this, but I’m hoping someone reading may have advice for me. My diagnosis today is acetabular dysplasia, a congenital hip deformity. (German Shepherds often have hip dysplasia, so let the dog comparisons begin.) In this abnormality, the socket of the hip does not surround the ball of the joint as it does in a normal hip; those with this condition inevitably have pain, which progressively worsens; they develop arthritis, and eventually need full hip replacement. The edge of the bone may more easily fracture since it is not stable.
Of all the sports to participate in, according to the doctor, skating is just about the worst. Running or other high-impact sports would be the only things that could be worse. The doctor, I must say, was pretty unsympathetic; even though I described how I participate in the sport of ice dancing and what that entails, he clearly thought that my skating was just any old activity because, let’s face it, I’m 45 years old and most people can’t picture us old farts skating any way other than round and round the rink for exercise. I described lifts, and ballroom dancing on ice, etc. but his answer was that I’d need to find a different activity, such as swimming, or no activity at all, which would be easier on my joints. He didn’t seem to understand that skating isn’t just going around in circles; skating is my one and only creative outlet. I've never found any other type of exercise I enjoy as much.
He gave me the name of a specialist and said good-bye.
I did some Internet research and it was then that I realized that for a skater, this was one of the worst possible diagnoses. There are many other career-ending diagnoses of course (knees, head trauma, backs) but this is right up there with the more commonly-seen injuries. The fact that I was born with this and skated for so many years without symptoms, all the while a ticking time bomb, makes this even more difficult to swallow. I will admit that I’ve shed some tears today in the bathroom at work and in my car.
The Internet says that once someone has pain from this condition, the arthritis sets in quickly, so surgery is indicated right away. As the condition worsens, the outcome of surgery is less and less likely to be positive. While there are many people who skate at a high level after hip replacement, I shudder to think of the many ways such a major surgery can go wrong, and that surgery won’t necessarily mean that I’ll be able to skate again at my current level – or walk for that matter. There are no guarantees.
I have always been healthy and never had surgery, so I’m also fearful of the process. Even giving blood is a trauma for me since I have rubbery veins, so the thought of being hospitalized for 5 days or more is truly frightening. I’d almost rather just let the arthritis take its toll, until I think of the true consequences of that. Doing nothing and continuing to skate until I can’t stand the pain any longer is an option, but then I may not be walking when I’m 50. Having surgery which isn’t successful seems like a worse option.
The internet shows that 17% of people having the surgery are able to function at the same level as before when it comes to “athletic activities”; another 37% are able to function well enough to “ambulate.” Those numbers seem particularly disturbing to me. Hip surgery is great when it allows an elderly person to continue functioning so they don’t have to be wheelchair bound. Hip surgery that means I won’t be able to skate any more does me no good at all, and seems like quite a trauma to put myself through.
An aside - this explains why I could never do a spread eagle or an Ina Bauer, despite being able to do Biellmans. Typically people with this type of dysplasia have very little hip turnout, and no amount of stretching can change that - it's just physically impossible for the hips to move that way. To think of all the time I wasted doing plies, pilates, and various other stretches to improve my turnout which never seemed to improve ... and to think of all the coaches who told me I was "just not trying hard enough" to do that Ina Bauer. Well, it's vindication all right, but somehow THAT doesn't feel very good right now.
I’m in a little bit of shock right now since this was not the diagnosis I was expecting (I was hoping more for "you pulled your groin, now rest and ice it for a month then you will be good as new"), but I need time to process this and figure out what I am going to do. Readers, I already know I have your empathy. If any of you have constructive advice, I could sure use some now.
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