Buh-Bye

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.

The hip bone's connected to the ...

It seems the hip bone is connected to every other bone in my body and when I walk, most of them hurt. My back hurts, my shoulders sometimes hurt, my shins hurt, my thighs hurt, my tailbone hurts, my feet hurt. All because I am walking "funny," which is not the same as "comical." I use a cane, I limp, I compensate, and when I don't use the cane I waddle. All of this causes stress on many of my body parts.

Of course, the hip is not a bone at all, it is a joint where the femur meets the pelvis. There are more specific names for the various parts of the joint, but in basic terms that is a good description.

In just a couple of days my hip bone's going to be disconnected and reconnected. With all these pains, it seems like good timing. I've decided that tomorrow I am going for one last skate, even if it's just a couple of laps. It's going to be the last "thing" I do before surgery and I think that it's the right thing to do. Then I'll put the skates in a box and ship them off to Harlick for refurbishing. Meanwhile, I'll ship myself up to Tacoma General for similar extensive repairs. It sounds like a good plan.

Independence Day

Moi and my mom/fellow type O+ blood donor staking out a place to sit at the parade in Gearhart

Today I'm celebrating exactly 6 years since I moved back to Portland from Colorado after my divorce. I always consider it my own personal independence day, in addition to our nation's birthday. I am at the beach with my family (mom, dad and Perry) as a last mini vacation before surgery. It's sunny and warm (unusual for the Oregon coast). We watched the Gearhart parade and then spent time on the beach, watching people drive and get stuck in the sand. Hilarious.



Off to fireworks viewing at friends' house in Seaside tonight. A happy, healthy and safe holiday to all.

I'm OK with "OK"

I hate countdowns, and yet there’s no other way to describe this last week. Every morning brings me one day closer to the inevitable. I’m lucky that the weather is beautiful and I am home from work this week, making it hard to wallow in self pity. I’m trying to get out of the house as much as I can since I may be stuck inside during the most beautiful part of the summer. Right now I’m at a coffee house blocks from where I live, just because I didn’t want to drink coffee and type this at home. Plus there are no chocolate croissants at home, and I just had to have one this morning.

So far I’ve been sleeping at night and I’m able to eat. When I’m anxious about something I have trouble with both of these functions. I’ve had intestinal issues but I’m not sure if those are caused by nerves or the abundance of iron I’ve been taking as prescribed. I haven’t had any memorable pre-surgery nightmares yet. In fact, I’ve been sleeping better and more than usual, which is strange. Perhaps my body is preparing itself.

People have been a bit too cheery around me at times, which I’ve found mildly annoying, but I realize that’s all par for the course. Everyone keeps telling me that I’ll “be OK.” Science can make almost anything OK nowadays. We’ve come to expect that modern medicine has a quick fix for everything. Feeling out of sorts? Pop an anti-depressant. Aches and pains? A bionic joint will fix you right up. Even previously fatal diseases such as cancer and HIV can now be treated with varying degrees of success. People are accustomed to seeing their ailing friends back in action quickly after medical interventions.

In the scheme of health care, I know that my malady and its correction are pretty minor things because hip dysplasia is life changing, but not life threatening. I will live through this. But it’s a longer recovery than most orthopedic procedures. It’s a rare enough condition that my spell checker doesn’t even recognize it. The surgery to correct it is so rare that my primary care provider, and many orthopedic surgeons, have never heard of it.

So most people don’t have any idea what this surgery entails. They envision me bouncing back quickly and feeling no pain; back to my old activities with no reminders of my problem. In reality, I know that the recovery period for this surgery is approximately two years, and I need two surgeries. Even if I do the second one as quickly as possible (six months after the first), my total recovery time will then be two and a half years. A time during which I will experience pain, frustration, and limitations on my activities. As soon as I’m somewhat recovered from the first PAO, I’ll undergo the second, and my crutches, walker and cane will reappear on the scene. My co-workers will again have to pick up the slack for me while I’m out of the office, and they may not be as happy to shoulder the burden a second time. Even after a full recovery, I’ll still be limited from certain activities for the rest of my life, and it’s likely I’ll still have some (manageable) hip pain. It doesn’t sound much like bouncing back, and it isn’t the wonderful recovery people are expecting. It’s hard for casual friends and acquaintances to be supportive for that long.

Upon reflection, I’ve realized that “you’ll be OK” is exactly what I might say to someone facing surgery too. It marries concern with optimism and, I suppose, depending on how you define “OK,” it is likely true. This surgery and the recovery afterward will contain awful parts and good parts and I’ll probably experience both discouragement and progress in a single day. In the end, however, I know it will all be OK.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.