No one likes to have surgery. That statement does not help me much as I am sitting in the "high chair" having my blood drawn for pre-op surgery. My eyes land on the bulletin board on the wall. It is filled with photographs of the technician's family. Little girls are chasing a balloon and an older boy is suiting up for what looks like his first football game. I try to distract myself and think this bulletin board is an excellent way to do it.
When I fell on my hip two years ago I didn't break it. It was an extremely windy day and we were at the dump with our little old Isuzu pickup filled to the brim with trash. We were standing in the back end throwing stuff off the truck. We had made it down to a fairly large piece of particle board. I grabbed one end and the top, my partner did the same. Just at that moment a huge gust of wind caught the board and whipped me into the air.
From that moment it all happened in slow motion. I was flying backwards off the side of the truck and heading down toward the ground. When I landed I felt it as a LOUD hard thump. To add insult to injury, the board fell on top of me. I immediately began to access my body. I had landed on my right hip and elbow. They hurt. For some reason my response was to feel angry and humiliated, although I don't know at what. I shook myself off and got back up in the truck and finished the job.
I held out until early in the week and then went in for some ex rays. Nothing was broken and I was told to rest and take ibuprofen. I spent the following weeks recovering, which seemed slow but I could tell there was gradual improvement so after a while stopped feeling concerned and got on with my life.
It wasn't even six months after the fall that I found my way to the orthopedic doctor because my hip was hurting. At first, I was sent to the back doctor to rule out if the pain was coming from my lower back. It wasn't. I let more time go on and then I was at the hip doctor again. After more ex rays it was determined that arthritis was deteriorating my hip bones. Could I stand the pain? At that time, yes, I could.
This last year was a different story, though. The pain started becoming constant and particularly bad when I walked. I noticed it the most when I was trying to make it from one plane to another in airports. There was no denial. Something had to be done. I went back to the hip doctor. This time he recommended that I get a cortisone shot in my hip. Didn't sound like something I would normally want to do but I found myself gladly agreeing to it.
The shot was given in an outpatient setting where you went into a room filled with large machines. From the bed, the machines were especially intimidating. I focused on the TV screen where an ex ray was showing a picture of my body where the shot was going to go. I don't like shots so I quickly diverted my eyes and started thinking about what I was going to do after I left. It was over quickly and I had to stay in the waiting room a half hour before I was driven home.
The pain subsided considerably over the next few days and about the third day I was feeling pretty normal again. In fact, I felt so good that it was easy to forget that I was having trouble with my hip at all. It last about 6 weeks. Then the pain was back. I went to the doctor again. This scenario repeated I don't know how many times. I guess it was until the doctor giving me the cortisone shots sat me down and told me I needed to consider surgery.
I put off going to see the hip doctor until I could barely walk. He took another ex ray. The last one had been taken six months before this one and the bone had deteriorated measurably. Now the picture showed bone on bone. We both looked at each other and without saying a word, knew it was time.
Due to a wedding, a funeral and several trips, I picked the end of March as "the time". In early March I saw my primary physician to start the pre-op testing. This involved going to five different places for poking and prodding and I did not like it at all. Still, I knew what is coming will be much, much more challenging to deal with.
I feel anxious about the surgery. I don't want to have to deal with pain and don't feel very motivated to do all that I will need to do to recover as I want to. I know I will be diligent when it happens, it's just thinking about it from my anxiety-point-of-view that feels unmotivated. Sometimes I think that since I scheduled it, it must be selective surgery. And then I walk a few steps and remember quickly, that is not the case.
I feel betrayed by my body. I wasn't supposed to have to deal with something like this! Having always been strong, active and athletic, it never occurred to me that I would need a hip replacement. Now I am fighting with myself: berating myself for lifting such heavy things and doing so much work in my life. And giving myself grief for falling off that truck. I find myself needing to curb my anger at myself and recognize that I am just afraid of the surgery.
I don't know of any formula or way of thinking that would make waiting for surgery any easier. I know I will be in good hands, I know I will make it through, and I know that my hip will be so much better without all the pain. And I know no one likes surgery. Especially ME!
When I fell on my hip two years ago I didn't break it. It was an extremely windy day and we were at the dump with our little old Isuzu pickup filled to the brim with trash. We were standing in the back end throwing stuff off the truck. We had made it down to a fairly large piece of particle board. I grabbed one end and the top, my partner did the same. Just at that moment a huge gust of wind caught the board and whipped me into the air.
From that moment it all happened in slow motion. I was flying backwards off the side of the truck and heading down toward the ground. When I landed I felt it as a LOUD hard thump. To add insult to injury, the board fell on top of me. I immediately began to access my body. I had landed on my right hip and elbow. They hurt. For some reason my response was to feel angry and humiliated, although I don't know at what. I shook myself off and got back up in the truck and finished the job.
I held out until early in the week and then went in for some ex rays. Nothing was broken and I was told to rest and take ibuprofen. I spent the following weeks recovering, which seemed slow but I could tell there was gradual improvement so after a while stopped feeling concerned and got on with my life.
It wasn't even six months after the fall that I found my way to the orthopedic doctor because my hip was hurting. At first, I was sent to the back doctor to rule out if the pain was coming from my lower back. It wasn't. I let more time go on and then I was at the hip doctor again. After more ex rays it was determined that arthritis was deteriorating my hip bones. Could I stand the pain? At that time, yes, I could.
This last year was a different story, though. The pain started becoming constant and particularly bad when I walked. I noticed it the most when I was trying to make it from one plane to another in airports. There was no denial. Something had to be done. I went back to the hip doctor. This time he recommended that I get a cortisone shot in my hip. Didn't sound like something I would normally want to do but I found myself gladly agreeing to it.
The shot was given in an outpatient setting where you went into a room filled with large machines. From the bed, the machines were especially intimidating. I focused on the TV screen where an ex ray was showing a picture of my body where the shot was going to go. I don't like shots so I quickly diverted my eyes and started thinking about what I was going to do after I left. It was over quickly and I had to stay in the waiting room a half hour before I was driven home.
The pain subsided considerably over the next few days and about the third day I was feeling pretty normal again. In fact, I felt so good that it was easy to forget that I was having trouble with my hip at all. It last about 6 weeks. Then the pain was back. I went to the doctor again. This scenario repeated I don't know how many times. I guess it was until the doctor giving me the cortisone shots sat me down and told me I needed to consider surgery.
I put off going to see the hip doctor until I could barely walk. He took another ex ray. The last one had been taken six months before this one and the bone had deteriorated measurably. Now the picture showed bone on bone. We both looked at each other and without saying a word, knew it was time.
Due to a wedding, a funeral and several trips, I picked the end of March as "the time". In early March I saw my primary physician to start the pre-op testing. This involved going to five different places for poking and prodding and I did not like it at all. Still, I knew what is coming will be much, much more challenging to deal with.
I feel anxious about the surgery. I don't want to have to deal with pain and don't feel very motivated to do all that I will need to do to recover as I want to. I know I will be diligent when it happens, it's just thinking about it from my anxiety-point-of-view that feels unmotivated. Sometimes I think that since I scheduled it, it must be selective surgery. And then I walk a few steps and remember quickly, that is not the case.
I feel betrayed by my body. I wasn't supposed to have to deal with something like this! Having always been strong, active and athletic, it never occurred to me that I would need a hip replacement. Now I am fighting with myself: berating myself for lifting such heavy things and doing so much work in my life. And giving myself grief for falling off that truck. I find myself needing to curb my anger at myself and recognize that I am just afraid of the surgery.
I don't know of any formula or way of thinking that would make waiting for surgery any easier. I know I will be in good hands, I know I will make it through, and I know that my hip will be so much better without all the pain. And I know no one likes surgery. Especially ME!
