I am not sure why I am so attached to this old hip. I mean come on; it's no good. It was never any good! It's a piece of crap that was built wrong from day one. And yet I am sitting staring wistfully at my leg as if ... as if ... I should be mourning the impending loss of my dysplasticity.
I keep telling myself that the PAO is going to fix what's wrong with me, give me significantly improved function, and drop my pain level. After 46 years I should be ready to say good riddance to my miserable old uncovered hip without shedding a single tear.
True, I'll have a scar, blah blah blah, but that seems a small price to pay. I'll have to go through nasty surgery and recovery, yadda yadda yadda, but I've already come to terms with that. The future's all good, but I can't help but think I somehow need to formally say good-bye to the old hip. After all, this hip hiked all over Oregon, rode horses in Colorado and accompanied me on trips to Japan, England, France, Mexico and Canada. This hip and I got into all kinds of trouble in ballet class together. This hip was able to get me through my gold dances despite the fact that it was totally, absolutely, 100% unsuited for the job. This hip even jogged now and then under heavy protest.
It's not really going anywhere, it will just be re-fashioned into a new, improved structure. I should be celebrating this change and looking forward to all of the adventures my new non-dysplastic hip will share with me. I'm planning to hike Machu Picchu some day. I want to tango with Perry in Buenos Aires. I'm looking forward to walking the 3 mile loop on the scenic road just above where I live. And, I am hoping my new-and-improved hip might allow me to test the Cha Cha Congelado or even (gasp) the Rhumba some day. OK, stop laughing y'all -- by the time I fully recover, I'll be able to take them masters!
The pre-op appointments went well today, and I was able to convince them to save my one good vein for tomorrow's IV, so no blood letting occurred. The x-rays looked about the same as the first set last year, so my arthritis isn't any worse. Dr. Mayo was very honest in saying that I will still have hip pain post PAO, and that I may some day still need a hip replacement, but maybe not. I should get at least 10 years out of the reconstruction, maybe more. This surgery also won't give me any better turnout than I had before (and it may actually be worse), and that is disappointing. I'll still struggle with Mohawks and Choctaws on the ice, and I'll probably still get that grinding feeling every time I do them. But I WILL be able to walk more than a block without pain, and hike, and ride a bike, and walk the aisles of the grocery store like a normal person.
So it's time to say adios, adieu and buh-bye to old righty without regrets. Here's to new possibilities. See you all on the other side.
Showing posts with label Anticipation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anticipation. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
A week and two days ...
My hip has been hurting. They have both been hurting, but my right has really been hurting. I cleaned the whole house, and did a lot of walking as Perry and I shopped for a recliner. The pain is good news since I am having surgery in 9 days. If I were feeling great, I might be reconsidering. I said several times over the weekend that I am now convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that I need this surgery.
Ah yes, a recliner. When we first moved in together Perry got rid of his ugly but comfy recliner. I promised him he could have another one, if we could find one that looked good. That was five years ago and we never bought him one. Now I'm the one who needs it, although it will be his long term, so off we went in search of. We found one at our favorite furniture store, and it's made locally so it will be delivered before I'm home from the hospital, unless by some miracle I'm out in 3 days. Which, we all know, is not likely. So we'll now have comfy seating for me and something Perry will enjoy for a long time.
Tomorrow is my last day at work. I scheduled the week before surgery off to take care of last minute details, but many are taken care of. I do want to use the week to get mentally prepared and to make sure I don't get sick. Oh yeah, and to paint my bathroom.
I thought that would be a good mindless activity to distract me this next week, and it needs to get done since we pulled out cabinets in early May. It is a small bathroom so shouldn't take a long time, and while the task involves standing, I can also sit for part of it. Probably not the best idea I've ever had, but if I can accomplish something in the next week I will feel pretty darn good. It qualifies as upper body exercise ("crutch prep") too.
I may skate this week; I may not. Before I leave for the hospital, I will definitely take my skates to the skate tech to send back to Harlick for some renovations. New tongues, cut down a notch, slightly higher heel, and removal of some stiffness since these are dance boots and not freestyle (I know that I'll never jump again because that's the worst thing I can do to my reconstructed hips). I've wanted to renovate the boots for a long time and it's much more affordable than new boots. Now's the time since I won't be needing them in the foreseeable future. And it does mean that I plan to use them again some day.
Thanks to all who offered to donate blood on my behalf. You all rock! My Mom donated this morning; I was there and it took about 7 minutes for them to get a pint of blood (whereas I was in there for an eternity and they barely got a unit). She was fine; I was grateful; and now the blood part is over until I get it back post-surgery (if needed).
I never thought I'd say this, but I am looking forward to getting this surgery thing over with now.
Ah yes, a recliner. When we first moved in together Perry got rid of his ugly but comfy recliner. I promised him he could have another one, if we could find one that looked good. That was five years ago and we never bought him one. Now I'm the one who needs it, although it will be his long term, so off we went in search of. We found one at our favorite furniture store, and it's made locally so it will be delivered before I'm home from the hospital, unless by some miracle I'm out in 3 days. Which, we all know, is not likely. So we'll now have comfy seating for me and something Perry will enjoy for a long time.
Tomorrow is my last day at work. I scheduled the week before surgery off to take care of last minute details, but many are taken care of. I do want to use the week to get mentally prepared and to make sure I don't get sick. Oh yeah, and to paint my bathroom.
I thought that would be a good mindless activity to distract me this next week, and it needs to get done since we pulled out cabinets in early May. It is a small bathroom so shouldn't take a long time, and while the task involves standing, I can also sit for part of it. Probably not the best idea I've ever had, but if I can accomplish something in the next week I will feel pretty darn good. It qualifies as upper body exercise ("crutch prep") too.
I may skate this week; I may not. Before I leave for the hospital, I will definitely take my skates to the skate tech to send back to Harlick for some renovations. New tongues, cut down a notch, slightly higher heel, and removal of some stiffness since these are dance boots and not freestyle (I know that I'll never jump again because that's the worst thing I can do to my reconstructed hips). I've wanted to renovate the boots for a long time and it's much more affordable than new boots. Now's the time since I won't be needing them in the foreseeable future. And it does mean that I plan to use them again some day.
Thanks to all who offered to donate blood on my behalf. You all rock! My Mom donated this morning; I was there and it took about 7 minutes for them to get a pint of blood (whereas I was in there for an eternity and they barely got a unit). She was fine; I was grateful; and now the blood part is over until I get it back post-surgery (if needed).
I never thought I'd say this, but I am looking forward to getting this surgery thing over with now.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Sunday Social Session
I did go to the social dance session today for an hour. I was weak and a little dizzy; not sure if those are the residual effects of losing a pint of blood, the fact that I have a cold, or just that I'm out of shape. I was slow and tentative and couldn't do more than half a pattern of anything without getting out of breath.
It was good to get out there just to see friends since I really couldn't skate. Makes me wonder how it will be coming back after surgery if it's this bad before they've even cut on me. I wonder if I'll be willing to fight very hard to get strength, flexibility, and "easy" skating skills back. On the other hand, I wonder if things I've struggled with for years will become easy overnight once my hips are fully in their sockets and attached to the right part of my pelvis like a normal person.
Not sure what I'll lose and if I'll gain anything or not. I feel like I'm about to take a huge gamble; outcome unknown. But I guess that's really true of everything in life; we never know what each day will bring.
It was good to get out there just to see friends since I really couldn't skate. Makes me wonder how it will be coming back after surgery if it's this bad before they've even cut on me. I wonder if I'll be willing to fight very hard to get strength, flexibility, and "easy" skating skills back. On the other hand, I wonder if things I've struggled with for years will become easy overnight once my hips are fully in their sockets and attached to the right part of my pelvis like a normal person.
Not sure what I'll lose and if I'll gain anything or not. I feel like I'm about to take a huge gamble; outcome unknown. But I guess that's really true of everything in life; we never know what each day will bring.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Last
The Last topic I want to talk about here is my weight, but one of the purposes of this blog is to provide information to others on similar journeys. The point is to tell newly-diagnosed hip patients what to expect, and that it’s OK to feel like shit about things that are happening to you. Those are observations that I can contribute to the greater good.
Case in point, my weight. Since I can’t exercise like I used to, despite cutting back on calories, I have gained a whopping 10 pounds. On me, at 5’4” with a medium/small frame, this is a lot of lbs. My blood pressure and resting pulse have gone from those of an active, fit person to those of a couch potato in just 9 months. I am sure that my cholesterol levels and blood sugar have followed suit. I am just not healthy right now. For me, it feels like a personal failure.
I am also whiny because I feel bloated, don’t like how I look, and don’t like how my clothes fit (or, more to the point, don’t fit). I have gained weight in places that I have never had weight before, like my mid-section. Oh, I can’t stand it.
I tried dieting, but without exercise my body just thinks I’m starving it and lowers my metabolism to compensate. The scale doesn’t budge. This is what happens to athletes, I am told. I don’t think it’s healthy to diet, plus it isn't working, so I've decided to eat normally, albeit healthily, and plan to take the weight off when I can really exercise again, in a year or so. I am likely to gain some more in the coming months because my ass will be firmly parked on the couch. Woe to the unlucky visitor who stops by my house with cookies! Hint to everyone: BRING CARROTS if you want me to open the door.
I am still very strong, as evidenced by what I can do on the weight machine. I know there are muscles under there, hidden under those fat cells; muscles which are going to help me recover. I just can’t seem to get rid of the fat. 30 – 40 minutes on the elliptical at the level I can handle without pain (which is not very strenuous) just doesn’t compare to the 90 minutes of hard skating I used to do most days. I know that I could up the elliptical workout time but it is so mind-numbingly BORING that I just can’t bring myself to do more than I am already doing. Ditto the swimming. No can do.
That’s about as much I can stand to write about my weight issues. So, moving on …
I am right now in Virginia to judge The Last Competition B.S. (“Before Surgery”). As other hip chicks have noted, as you count down to surgery you tend to notice “The Lasts.” This is one such Last, but I know I’ll judge again on the other side.
Last week I spent quality time with my stepdaughter Ashley, visiting from college. I walked a lot, and even walked on the beach. I’m calling it “The Last” fun vacation B.S. although I know there will be many more vacations on the other side.
My stepson Aaron graduated from High School on Tuesday, preceded by a nice family dinner. I’m calling that “The Last” big family event B.S. There will be plenty more of those on the other side.
I introduced the person who will be taking my place on my biggest project at work to the project team this past week. I’m calling it “The Last” political issue I have to deal with at work B.S. For sure, there will be a whole lotta those on the other side!
As for The Last Skate … well, that happened about a month ago. I still have my skates in the car, and every single day I ponder going over for One Last Skate. A part of me really wants to, but I can’t quite do it. I always find some excuse.
The Last time I went was a pretty good hip day with very little pain. I was able to do some of the things I used to do (the Austrian Waltz twizzles, the Rhumba Choctaw and a hydroblade, for my skating friends), and I really enjoyed expressing the music on my Ipod that day. The sun was shining through the windows in the rink. I felt good. I felt happy. Somebody asked me if I skated in an ice show and it made my day.
Since then my hips have degenerated noticeably. I don’t know if I’ll skate again at my prior level on the other side. I know I can’t possibly do so now. So I really don’t want to mess with my happy memory of The Last Skate by going to the rink right now.
I do miss all you guys though.
Case in point, my weight. Since I can’t exercise like I used to, despite cutting back on calories, I have gained a whopping 10 pounds. On me, at 5’4” with a medium/small frame, this is a lot of lbs. My blood pressure and resting pulse have gone from those of an active, fit person to those of a couch potato in just 9 months. I am sure that my cholesterol levels and blood sugar have followed suit. I am just not healthy right now. For me, it feels like a personal failure.
I am also whiny because I feel bloated, don’t like how I look, and don’t like how my clothes fit (or, more to the point, don’t fit). I have gained weight in places that I have never had weight before, like my mid-section. Oh, I can’t stand it.
I tried dieting, but without exercise my body just thinks I’m starving it and lowers my metabolism to compensate. The scale doesn’t budge. This is what happens to athletes, I am told. I don’t think it’s healthy to diet, plus it isn't working, so I've decided to eat normally, albeit healthily, and plan to take the weight off when I can really exercise again, in a year or so. I am likely to gain some more in the coming months because my ass will be firmly parked on the couch. Woe to the unlucky visitor who stops by my house with cookies! Hint to everyone: BRING CARROTS if you want me to open the door.
I am still very strong, as evidenced by what I can do on the weight machine. I know there are muscles under there, hidden under those fat cells; muscles which are going to help me recover. I just can’t seem to get rid of the fat. 30 – 40 minutes on the elliptical at the level I can handle without pain (which is not very strenuous) just doesn’t compare to the 90 minutes of hard skating I used to do most days. I know that I could up the elliptical workout time but it is so mind-numbingly BORING that I just can’t bring myself to do more than I am already doing. Ditto the swimming. No can do.
That’s about as much I can stand to write about my weight issues. So, moving on …
I am right now in Virginia to judge The Last Competition B.S. (“Before Surgery”). As other hip chicks have noted, as you count down to surgery you tend to notice “The Lasts.” This is one such Last, but I know I’ll judge again on the other side.
Last week I spent quality time with my stepdaughter Ashley, visiting from college. I walked a lot, and even walked on the beach. I’m calling it “The Last” fun vacation B.S. although I know there will be many more vacations on the other side.
My stepson Aaron graduated from High School on Tuesday, preceded by a nice family dinner. I’m calling that “The Last” big family event B.S. There will be plenty more of those on the other side.
I introduced the person who will be taking my place on my biggest project at work to the project team this past week. I’m calling it “The Last” political issue I have to deal with at work B.S. For sure, there will be a whole lotta those on the other side!
As for The Last Skate … well, that happened about a month ago. I still have my skates in the car, and every single day I ponder going over for One Last Skate. A part of me really wants to, but I can’t quite do it. I always find some excuse.
The Last time I went was a pretty good hip day with very little pain. I was able to do some of the things I used to do (the Austrian Waltz twizzles, the Rhumba Choctaw and a hydroblade, for my skating friends), and I really enjoyed expressing the music on my Ipod that day. The sun was shining through the windows in the rink. I felt good. I felt happy. Somebody asked me if I skated in an ice show and it made my day.
Since then my hips have degenerated noticeably. I don’t know if I’ll skate again at my prior level on the other side. I know I can’t possibly do so now. So I really don’t want to mess with my happy memory of The Last Skate by going to the rink right now.
I do miss all you guys though.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Intestinal Fortitude
So you take the iron supplement with vitamin C because it is better absorbed in an acidic environment. You don't take your calcium with your iron though, or the iron blocks absorption of the calcium. If you take iron on an empty stomach you might get a stomach ache, but if you take it with food you might not absorb the nutrients in your food correctly. The NSAID prescribed for my swollen hand (auto accident) should also be taken with food, but should not be taken with the iron. OK, I am now not sure what to eat when and what pill to take with what.
Juggling meds is not something I am used to, because meds and I don't normally run in the same circles. I am supposed to bring a "full list of all prescriptions" to my pre-op appointment. A week ago that list would have been a whole lotta nothing, but now it's filling up fast.
The iron is prescribed to build up my blood for the autologous blood donations (two units, two donations) I am so looking forward to. I have rubbery hide-and-go-seek veins that know how to retreat deep into my arms beyone reach of needles at just the right time. The digging around for a vein has been so painful in the past that I have actually passed out. Oh yeah, I had better get used to it because they are going to be sticking me all over in the hospital as well, and after I'm out of the hospital in order to monitor the blood thinners. Did I mention the blood thinners? The ones I will be injecting myself with IN MY OWN STOMACH for ten days???!!!
I think it might be more than just the iron supplements that are making me nauseous.
Juggling meds is not something I am used to, because meds and I don't normally run in the same circles. I am supposed to bring a "full list of all prescriptions" to my pre-op appointment. A week ago that list would have been a whole lotta nothing, but now it's filling up fast.
The iron is prescribed to build up my blood for the autologous blood donations (two units, two donations) I am so looking forward to. I have rubbery hide-and-go-seek veins that know how to retreat deep into my arms beyone reach of needles at just the right time. The digging around for a vein has been so painful in the past that I have actually passed out. Oh yeah, I had better get used to it because they are going to be sticking me all over in the hospital as well, and after I'm out of the hospital in order to monitor the blood thinners. Did I mention the blood thinners? The ones I will be injecting myself with IN MY OWN STOMACH for ten days???!!!
I think it might be more than just the iron supplements that are making me nauseous.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Trust
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.
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.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
In Training
I am in training. Not for bikini season or a skating event, but for surgery. I've been trying to get in the best shape possible, in particular my arms (the better to crutch with) and my hip flexors/quads (they will be cut/moved/damaged during surgery, so the stronger they are beforehand, the faster they will heal). I've also been getting up from low chairs on one leg. I figure if I can do it now, I might have better luck navigating when I am down to one leg for real. Thank God for all those sit spins I've done in my life!
I am also thankful that we have a home gym, with an elliptical trainer and all-over weight machine. I was working out before I had a surgery date but it was sporadic; now that I have a goal date I can be more focused in my training. I have had to work back up to longer times on the elliptical; at first my hip was throbbing after 15 minutes, and now I'm up to almost 40 minutes before the pain becomes intolerable. I haven't added much resistance but I have increased my step rate, and I just have to keep reminding myself not to bounce!
I trick myself into thinking I'm training for an athletic event and that makes it a bit more fun. If I thought about how much work I'm putting into building up the muscles in my legs, and how those muscles are going to be cut, and then atrophy, in just over 5 weeks, I probably couldn't face the machine each day. Instead I imagine I'm getting ready for ski season, or a cross-country bike tour, or a skating test. So far this trickery has worked.
I've also put together a playlist of music for pre-surgery and, if they'll let me, during surgery. I have picked some of my favorite calming music. I'm hoping that will help my nerves, but perhaps valium would be better. Recently PAO'd hip chicks all comment that the anticipation is the worst part of this surgery, and I'm sure that's the case. A part of me would like to postpone this indefinitely, but the rational part of me says, "let's get this over with."
I'm off to the gym.
I am also thankful that we have a home gym, with an elliptical trainer and all-over weight machine. I was working out before I had a surgery date but it was sporadic; now that I have a goal date I can be more focused in my training. I have had to work back up to longer times on the elliptical; at first my hip was throbbing after 15 minutes, and now I'm up to almost 40 minutes before the pain becomes intolerable. I haven't added much resistance but I have increased my step rate, and I just have to keep reminding myself not to bounce!
I trick myself into thinking I'm training for an athletic event and that makes it a bit more fun. If I thought about how much work I'm putting into building up the muscles in my legs, and how those muscles are going to be cut, and then atrophy, in just over 5 weeks, I probably couldn't face the machine each day. Instead I imagine I'm getting ready for ski season, or a cross-country bike tour, or a skating test. So far this trickery has worked.
I've also put together a playlist of music for pre-surgery and, if they'll let me, during surgery. I have picked some of my favorite calming music. I'm hoping that will help my nerves, but perhaps valium would be better. Recently PAO'd hip chicks all comment that the anticipation is the worst part of this surgery, and I'm sure that's the case. A part of me would like to postpone this indefinitely, but the rational part of me says, "let's get this over with."
I'm off to the gym.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Doubt
The following is something I posted to the Hipwomen Yahoo group in response to T*****, who was questioning having such major surgery with so little pain. I wanted to re-post it here for my friends and family, some of whom have asked me the same question. Terri
T*****:
My PAO is scheduled for July and I ponder the same thing on days when I don't have hip pain, which are frequent. But then I realize how much I am limiting myself in order to be pain-free. I was out today on a beautiful spring day, driving with my husband, and saw people hiking. I realized that I hadn't gone for a hike or even a pleasant walk around the neighborhood since diagnosis last August. I have mostly avoided walking except for what is necessary to get around.
I think of how active I used to be just a year ago, and even though I don't have severe pain yet, I realize that in order to be that active again I have to do this. I backed off on things so gradually that I hardly realized that I wasn't doing much walking until I saw others hiking. I live in the middle of a forest with trails everywhere, and so I see a lot of hikers now that the weather is nice!
Before diagnosis I managed my condition by ignoring it. I had a little pain, some limitation of flexibility and lots of stiffness after exercise. I chalked this up to being "out of shape," which I wasn't. I thought it was what happened to people over 40 who liked to be active, until I realized that nobody else my age or older was walking bent over or having trouble standing up after exercise.
My surgeon said that if I didn't have the surgery, I would only be able to "manage" the condition by sitting on the couch and doing nothing, and eventually sitting would be painful too. That was not acceptable to me. He said eventually I wouldn't be able to walk at all because the pain would be so great.
Although I'm in the age range where a THR makes sense (I'm 46), I have almost no arthritis and he was pretty clear that PAO was the better option since it will preserve my own joint. If I did nothing my arthritis would get bad and I would no longer have the PAO option - only a THR/Resurf would be available if I waited. I didn't like that very much - I'd rather keep my own hip as long as possible. Since you are much younger than I, you probably have a much better chance of success with a PAO if your doctor recommends it. But you can't wait too long or you'll lose that opportunity.
I know that was sort of long-winded. I want you to know that many of us question this surgery on our good days. I just have to look at all of the things I've given up to keep my pain level manageable to know that I need to do this. Everyone has to make the decision that is right for them.
T*****:
My PAO is scheduled for July and I ponder the same thing on days when I don't have hip pain, which are frequent. But then I realize how much I am limiting myself in order to be pain-free. I was out today on a beautiful spring day, driving with my husband, and saw people hiking. I realized that I hadn't gone for a hike or even a pleasant walk around the neighborhood since diagnosis last August. I have mostly avoided walking except for what is necessary to get around.
I think of how active I used to be just a year ago, and even though I don't have severe pain yet, I realize that in order to be that active again I have to do this. I backed off on things so gradually that I hardly realized that I wasn't doing much walking until I saw others hiking. I live in the middle of a forest with trails everywhere, and so I see a lot of hikers now that the weather is nice!
Before diagnosis I managed my condition by ignoring it. I had a little pain, some limitation of flexibility and lots of stiffness after exercise. I chalked this up to being "out of shape," which I wasn't. I thought it was what happened to people over 40 who liked to be active, until I realized that nobody else my age or older was walking bent over or having trouble standing up after exercise.
My surgeon said that if I didn't have the surgery, I would only be able to "manage" the condition by sitting on the couch and doing nothing, and eventually sitting would be painful too. That was not acceptable to me. He said eventually I wouldn't be able to walk at all because the pain would be so great.
Although I'm in the age range where a THR makes sense (I'm 46), I have almost no arthritis and he was pretty clear that PAO was the better option since it will preserve my own joint. If I did nothing my arthritis would get bad and I would no longer have the PAO option - only a THR/Resurf would be available if I waited. I didn't like that very much - I'd rather keep my own hip as long as possible. Since you are much younger than I, you probably have a much better chance of success with a PAO if your doctor recommends it. But you can't wait too long or you'll lose that opportunity.
I know that was sort of long-winded. I want you to know that many of us question this surgery on our good days. I just have to look at all of the things I've given up to keep my pain level manageable to know that I need to do this. Everyone has to make the decision that is right for them.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
7 weeks (or, be careful what you wish for ...)
I have a date with a tall, handsome man with very steady hands. He's my orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Mayo. My surgery will occur exactly 7 weeks from today, on July 8th.
A few posts ago I was annoyed that I couldn't get a firm date, and that it looked like I wouldn't get a date in July. Now that I have the date, I'm suddenly freaking out. Seven weeks is not a long time. So much to do, so little time.
July 8th is almost exactly one year from when I first had symptoms and sought answers. I've been ranting, uh, blogging for what seems like forever about the minutiae of my hip troubles (this is post #61 in less than a year) without really getting to the heart of the matter; you know, the long-awaited pre-surgery buildup, day of surgery horror stories, post-surgery reminiscences, and sexy scar photos.
But now that's all within reach. I've got a list of things to do which will keep me from going off the deep end in the near term. I have friends and family and this blog to keep me going for the next 49 days. But I may need someone to drag me inside the hospital doors the morning of July 8th. I have a very strong fight or flight response!
A few posts ago I was annoyed that I couldn't get a firm date, and that it looked like I wouldn't get a date in July. Now that I have the date, I'm suddenly freaking out. Seven weeks is not a long time. So much to do, so little time.
July 8th is almost exactly one year from when I first had symptoms and sought answers. I've been ranting, uh, blogging for what seems like forever about the minutiae of my hip troubles (this is post #61 in less than a year) without really getting to the heart of the matter; you know, the long-awaited pre-surgery buildup, day of surgery horror stories, post-surgery reminiscences, and sexy scar photos.
But now that's all within reach. I've got a list of things to do which will keep me from going off the deep end in the near term. I have friends and family and this blog to keep me going for the next 49 days. But I may need someone to drag me inside the hospital doors the morning of July 8th. I have a very strong fight or flight response!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
My Countdown
I am getting close to the "three months until surgery" countdown. Up until now my surgery was a thing of the future; nothing to worry about because it was so far away.
As I updated my calendar today, I realized that if my surgery is scheduled for the first week in July (exact date can’t be finalized until May), I have about 3 and a half months left until the day of. And prior to that, a lot of scary things are going to happen in rapid succession such that I really can’t ignore them any more:
~Three autologous blood donations: For someone with tiny rubbery veins, giving any blood is a major trauma. When people say, “it’s just a simple blood donation,” I want to slap them. The thought of giving a pint on three different occasions sounds like 30 minutes of brutal digging around in my inner arms for a reluctant vessel followed by 90 minutes of slow-trickling horror for each donation.
~Physical by my GP: And guess what, they are going to take more blood at this appointment too to make sure I’m healthy. My veins are already retreating deeper into my body in rebellion.
~Pre-certification with insurance: Almost as horrifying as giving blood. I already know the answer is going to be "no" but we're going to ask again just for kicks.
~Pre-operative appointment with hospital/surgeon: They go over what to expect in surgery, I sign a bunch of papers, they take final x-rays, etc. I don’t think they take any more blood, but perhaps the joke will be on me. As I see it, this is my last chance to chicken out.
~Packing for hospital: Packing is not my forte as I’ve never mastered the concept of “traveling light.” Based on the advice of other hipchicks, I don’t think I need much. Ipod, hygiene items and something to wear home that is a size “large,” since I’ll be all swollen, should do it. I think underwear is optional in the hospital so I'm going al fresco. That should keep the mean physical therapists away.
~Checking in for surgery: The first thing they will do is insert an IV to sedate me. Enough with the veins already! Good luck finding one! HAHAHAHAHA!
(As you can see, my attitude needs a bit of adjusting over the next several months.)
I have been staring at my right upper leg a lot while in the shower or otherwise undressed. Taking a good gander at what it looks like now, before the big scar that I’ll wear forever after July. Not that my leg is so great looking now, but I have this nostalgic urge to take a picture for posterity. I’m not sure why it’s so important for me to document my pre-surgery body; I never wanted documentation of it before. It's not something I'll post on the blog since it feels too personal. However, once it's all cut open and gross, it's fair game for posting. So you can all look forward to gory scar photos galore - that's a promise.
As I updated my calendar today, I realized that if my surgery is scheduled for the first week in July (exact date can’t be finalized until May), I have about 3 and a half months left until the day of. And prior to that, a lot of scary things are going to happen in rapid succession such that I really can’t ignore them any more:
~Three autologous blood donations: For someone with tiny rubbery veins, giving any blood is a major trauma. When people say, “it’s just a simple blood donation,” I want to slap them. The thought of giving a pint on three different occasions sounds like 30 minutes of brutal digging around in my inner arms for a reluctant vessel followed by 90 minutes of slow-trickling horror for each donation.
~Physical by my GP: And guess what, they are going to take more blood at this appointment too to make sure I’m healthy. My veins are already retreating deeper into my body in rebellion.
~Pre-certification with insurance: Almost as horrifying as giving blood. I already know the answer is going to be "no" but we're going to ask again just for kicks.
~Pre-operative appointment with hospital/surgeon: They go over what to expect in surgery, I sign a bunch of papers, they take final x-rays, etc. I don’t think they take any more blood, but perhaps the joke will be on me. As I see it, this is my last chance to chicken out.
~Packing for hospital: Packing is not my forte as I’ve never mastered the concept of “traveling light.” Based on the advice of other hipchicks, I don’t think I need much. Ipod, hygiene items and something to wear home that is a size “large,” since I’ll be all swollen, should do it. I think underwear is optional in the hospital so I'm going al fresco. That should keep the mean physical therapists away.
~Checking in for surgery: The first thing they will do is insert an IV to sedate me. Enough with the veins already! Good luck finding one! HAHAHAHAHA!
(As you can see, my attitude needs a bit of adjusting over the next several months.)
I have been staring at my right upper leg a lot while in the shower or otherwise undressed. Taking a good gander at what it looks like now, before the big scar that I’ll wear forever after July. Not that my leg is so great looking now, but I have this nostalgic urge to take a picture for posterity. I’m not sure why it’s so important for me to document my pre-surgery body; I never wanted documentation of it before. It's not something I'll post on the blog since it feels too personal. However, once it's all cut open and gross, it's fair game for posting. So you can all look forward to gory scar photos galore - that's a promise.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Fear
I haven’t really felt afraid yet, and that’s because my surgery is 7 or 8 months away (exact date still TBD). It seems so distant that I can’t be afraid of it yet. I’ve read many blog accounts of PAO surgery and I think I know what to expect. Some people would rather go into a surgery without knowing the details; for me, it’s better to know and get used to the idea of it than to be surprised. I’m such a control freak and I’ll be handing over total control of my body and all its functions to the anesthesiologist and surgeon for 5 to 7 hours, followed by weeks of dependence on others to take care of my most basic needs. But this is not my biggest fear.
I also fear doctors and needles. Even drawing blood from me is a major event. I have bad veins and a “simple” blood draw really hurts me. I have to get past this fear since there will be needles and tubes and drains and catheters and I don’t even know what other things attached to all parts of my body before and during surgery. But this is not my biggest fear.
I’m afraid of losing my abilities. Walking, skating, stretching, working in the garden. I stuck the skating in there casually as if it’s not too important, but who am I kidding. I have worked so hard on it the past many years that, to lose it all and never get it back would be a shame, a waste, something to cry about. Because of my hip issues, skating has been twice as hard for me as it would be for a “normal” person. Ice dancing is all about turnout. Those of you with turnout don’t know this … because you just think what you can do is the norm, and among skaters that is generally true. For those of us without it, everything is a struggle, even simple inside to inside Mohawks, about which I’ve said for years, “I can feel my hip grinding when I do this.” Doing the “simple” swing dance mohawk hurts like hell for me and it takes all my power of concentration to do that turn. That’s my version of “normal.” I stopped asking coaches about why it hurt and what I was doing wrong a long time ago and just did it, feeling and hearing the grinding at the same time as I forced my ankle to fake turning out my leg on the exit. A big smile usually hid the fact that my knee and hip were really turned in even though my toe was pointing out.
Tim and I are still skating and improving as a team. We’ve had a couple of great practices recently. I don’t even want to imagine him having to find another partner if I can’t get back to my current level of skating. I am terrified of that.
I also fear doctors and needles. Even drawing blood from me is a major event. I have bad veins and a “simple” blood draw really hurts me. I have to get past this fear since there will be needles and tubes and drains and catheters and I don’t even know what other things attached to all parts of my body before and during surgery. But this is not my biggest fear.
I’m afraid of losing my abilities. Walking, skating, stretching, working in the garden. I stuck the skating in there casually as if it’s not too important, but who am I kidding. I have worked so hard on it the past many years that, to lose it all and never get it back would be a shame, a waste, something to cry about. Because of my hip issues, skating has been twice as hard for me as it would be for a “normal” person. Ice dancing is all about turnout. Those of you with turnout don’t know this … because you just think what you can do is the norm, and among skaters that is generally true. For those of us without it, everything is a struggle, even simple inside to inside Mohawks, about which I’ve said for years, “I can feel my hip grinding when I do this.” Doing the “simple” swing dance mohawk hurts like hell for me and it takes all my power of concentration to do that turn. That’s my version of “normal.” I stopped asking coaches about why it hurt and what I was doing wrong a long time ago and just did it, feeling and hearing the grinding at the same time as I forced my ankle to fake turning out my leg on the exit. A big smile usually hid the fact that my knee and hip were really turned in even though my toe was pointing out.
Tim and I are still skating and improving as a team. We’ve had a couple of great practices recently. I don’t even want to imagine him having to find another partner if I can’t get back to my current level of skating. I am terrified of that.
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