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.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
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.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Put one foot in front of the other ...
Walking is so basic. It seems so easy. It's great exercise. It's good for you. Almost anyone can do it!
My stepdaughter Ashley is here visiting from Colorado, on break from college. Yesterday my mother and I showed her some of the highlights of Portland - the Rose Garden, the Japanese Garden, and shopping on NW 23rd. I walked A LOT, more than I have since diagnosis, and didn't really make any accommodations except taking the shuttle up the hill to the Japanese Garden. Today I feel like somebody stood on my pelvis and took a baseball bat to my back, hips, and legs.
My 70-year-old mother accompanied us and wasn't even tired at the end of the day, while I was firmly planted on a chair complaining of how sore my legs were. That's right, me, the athlete.
We are supposed to be going downtown tomorrow and to the beach the following day, both walking-intensive activities. The wheelchair idea is sounding better and better. Wheelchair on sand at the beach? Probably not going to happen. I just need to get through this week and then it's only 4 more weeks until surgery. I can spend the weekend recovering from all of this walking.
I am now 100% convinced that I do need this surgery.
My stepdaughter Ashley is here visiting from Colorado, on break from college. Yesterday my mother and I showed her some of the highlights of Portland - the Rose Garden, the Japanese Garden, and shopping on NW 23rd. I walked A LOT, more than I have since diagnosis, and didn't really make any accommodations except taking the shuttle up the hill to the Japanese Garden. Today I feel like somebody stood on my pelvis and took a baseball bat to my back, hips, and legs.
My 70-year-old mother accompanied us and wasn't even tired at the end of the day, while I was firmly planted on a chair complaining of how sore my legs were. That's right, me, the athlete.
We are supposed to be going downtown tomorrow and to the beach the following day, both walking-intensive activities. The wheelchair idea is sounding better and better. Wheelchair on sand at the beach? Probably not going to happen. I just need to get through this week and then it's only 4 more weeks until surgery. I can spend the weekend recovering from all of this walking.
I am now 100% convinced that I do need this surgery.
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!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Viva Las Vegas
Where are the penny slot machines?
Day two of my trip to Las Vegas. I am here for nothing more than relaxation, while staying at Mandalay Bay.
I arrived with a cold, and on day one did more walking than planned (Portland airport, McCarren airport (which is huge), hotel (we are at the end of a very long corridor), to and from "O" last night from valet parking, to dinner, around casino. I have not yet given in to the temptation to get a wheelchair and let my cohorts push me around. Not yet.
This morning I decided to go out to the pool and bake my cold a bit. My hips were less sore than I thought they would be after yesterday. I found some shade (I am a pasty white Northwest Pacific native, and it's 110 degrees here), and got into the pool. After seeing "O" I was inspired to do some aquatherapy.
I'm sure the lifeguard and people lounging in the heat thought it was pretty funny to see pasty white woman with hat, sunglasses and mega sunscreen walking briskly up and down the length of the 4 foot deep pool over and over again, and even JOGGING. Yes, jogging, something that I can do in the pool without pain. I must have walked across the pool 100 times, and then did a bunch of pool stretches a la "O." I could actually move in the water without pain, although I might have overdone it. We'll see how sore I am tomorrow. I felt like I could have walked for hours!
I don't like swimming (Chlorine! Cold water!) and don't really have access to a pool at home, but this was nice. If we had weather like this I'd swim every day. After surgery I'll join a club with a pool at least temporarily because I know this will be good for me.
Tomorrow Cher is on the agenda, along with the Barry Manilow store. That's right, Barry, who despite two hip replacements is still dancing and giving a great show well into his 70's. We saw Barry's show in Portland a year ago, and the Barry store is definitely on the "to do" list. I'll see if I can find out the name of his hip surgeon too while I'm at it.
P.S. - I STAND CORRECTED by Crissy, who is evidently a Barry Manilow fan; in this post I erroneously reported Barry to be "well into his 70's" when he is, in fact, in his mid 60's, but still fab. Also, according to reliable source Crissy, Barry had labral repair and not a hip repacement; many hip chicks reading this can relate. Blogs are not checked for accuracy by the blog police, and I don't pass myself off as a serious journalist, but I don't want to get nailed by other Manilow fans (myself being one) for perpetrating misinformation. THR or not, Barry's still the HIPPEST in my book.
More on Manilow
Note however that the article in the link above, from 2006, states that Barry was 60 years old. Wikipedia confirms Crissy's report of Barry's birthdate (he will turn 66 on June 17th), but clearly some confusion regarding Barry's age abounds in the press.
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