I put my pants on today, and other exciting news

It has breen almost a week since I (or Perry) posted. So much has happened that I don't really know where to begin. I've been meaning to post but kept putting it off because I was in the middle of a very good book ("Memoirs of a Geisha") and just couldn't put it down. When I did put it down it was usually because I fell asleep, or someone was taking my vitals, or a physicial therapist was torturing me. So I apologize for no news, but in this case it's good news.

I'll go back and discuss my experience day by day in a second, longer post after this one. For those of you without hip problems (my friends and family), reading this longer post may not be necessary since it's really just a lot of boring and gory details. For those of you awaiting PAO, I hope the details of my experience will help you prepare for your own surgery and recovery.

So here's all the good news in a nutshell for those of you who won't be reading post #2:

1. My surgeon said everything went really well. He is not a demonstrative person but he had a big smile on his face and I am certain that I will have the best possible result based on his positive attitude about the outcome. Of course, much of my success is now up to me ... and how hard I work at rehabiliation. But I know that Dr. Mayo did all he could for me surgically. He not only did the PAO, he shaved the top of my femur (the ball of the hip) which had a knob that was catching when my hip flexed. Now it's round and should work better. (Yes, that's probably why my hip hurt every time I tried to do a mohawk or a choctaw!)
2. I am in a lot less pain than I expected.
3. I had great pain management in the hospital, and most of the procedures I'd been dreading were not nearly as bad as I'd imagined.
4. The nursing staff at Tacoma General was mostly kind, caring and competent, with a few exceptions who were not. Overall the standard of care from the nursing staff was better than most hospitals, for which I am grateful.
5. I got to come home on the 5th day after surgery (yesterday), which is probably the earliest they would have let me come home in any case. I was very ready to leave!
6. The drive home was 2.5 hours and pretty uneventful.
7. It is great to be home. I have my hospital bed set up in my office and from the windows I can see beautiful green tree tops outside. It's very quiet here (not so much in the hospital of course) and I'm getting lots of rest.
8. Although my mom and sister checked in on me today, I'm home alone and able to get from bed to couch to bathroom using my walker just fine. I'm able to get my operated leg in and out of the continuous motion machine and on and off the bed myself (something I had trouble with in the hospital). My bed at home is much lower than the hospital bed and thus easier to get into and out of.
9. I am SO EXCITED that I was able to put my pajama pants on BY MYSELF this morning without any assistive devices. As expected, I was al fresco all week in the hospital and the first day home; this morning I wanted pants. My non-op leg is very mobile and strong so I was able to maneuver the pants onto the bad leg using the good one. You have no idea how exciting this is until you've had hip surgery.
10. I still haven't pooped. My family has started a betting pool called, "when will Terri poop." Estimates range from tomorrow at 7 AM to Friday at 8PM. I'm eating prunes and hoping it's sooner rather than later!
11. Spinal Tap fans --- the control on the CPM machine goes to ELEVEN. Of course, that means it's LOUDER.
12. My scar looks great. I could post a picture but will save that for later since I'm not sure where the camera is.

Thanks to all of my friends who've been such great support for so long. I am very grateful to have you all in my life. Terri

Success!

This is Terri's husband, Perry, blogging on her behalf.

After arriving at the hospital at 5:30AM, Terri went into surgery at 7:50AM and her surgery was completed by 1:50PM. The doctor met with me at about 2 and informed me that everything went very well. The outlook for the future is excellent! I'm waiting for her to finish up her post op recovery and get into her room to see her.

I want to thank you all for your support and well wishes and I'm sure Terri will be back blogging within the next week.

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 really truly absolutely last skate

I just spent 3 hours on the ice. Some of that was just going around and around in circles talking. Tim came out to skate with me one last time. I don't think we've skated together since January or so, but it was just like old times. Somehow we actually skated well, considering. Several really nice spins, side by side twizzles in unison, Starlight, Viennese, Samba, Blues (formerly our nemesis dance - it was fine), parts of Midnight Blues and Tango Romantica, and most of the RAVENSBURGER (not at speed but probably recognizable). We did the circular footwork from our free dance. We did various bits of choreography from our free dance. All pretty good really.

We did start to try our spread eagle lift, but just as it was going up I heard a hip crack and we aborted. I thought it was mine, but it was actually his hip that cracked. We decided to forget about lifts for the day.

We didn't work super hard and took several breaks. It was really great to be out there with Tim again.

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.