Walk of Life

 

Tito and I have been together for an entire month today, so I guess you could say things are getting pretty serious.  We celebrated this milestone by walking a whole mile this morning, our longest consecutive stretch.  My gait feels pretty darn close to normal, and I think my pace is picking up a little bit as well.  I'm excited to extend the walks a little further each time while maintaining my newfound healthy relationship with distance and pace.  A common question I've been getting this week is "When will you be able to run?"  My answer is simple and applies to most of the physical activities I look forward to resuming, and that's I don't know and I don't care.  Feeling my strength and stamina improving every single day and knowing eventually I will get back to all the things I love is truly all I need to be happy right now.  

That being said, the follow up appointment with my surgeon isn't for another week, and there are a few things I am chomping at the bit to get back to that I will be asking about:

1.  Bending past 90 degrees.  Mainly because I'd like to be able to clip my own toenails.  I've been out of work for a month and just bought a new hip...I can't afford a pedicure.

2.  Going down stairs like a normal person.  I'm going up like a champ, but that eccentric motion of lowering one's bodyweight down a step is a lot on the hip and my PT told me to hold off on it for now.  Which is fine, except with every passing day, I'm feeling more and more normal and sometimes forget the whole "down with the bad" thing.  I've always caught myself, but I'm a little nervous that I'll fall down the stairs because I'm feeling so good, if that makes any sense.

3.  Bridges.  See last post about flat bottomed girls.

4.  Riding my bike.  Spring is here and when the weather is nice, I ride my bike almost as often as - if not more often than -  I drive my car.

5.  Walking in sand.  Because my whole crew can't sit on the beach access boardwalk with me.

I went back to work this week so I don't need to ask about that, but I have a feeling I may forget to ask when I can get back to mopping floors, scrubbing bathtubs, and mowing the lawn.  My vacation doesn't need to completely end yet, does it?  

Flat Bottomed Girls

 I'm three weeks post op, and the forward momentum of progress is still going strong.  No pain, no cane, baby!  I haven't taken Tylenol for about a week now, and the only meds I'm still on is the baby aspirin to prevent blood clots.  The physical changes are much more subtle now, most likely barely noticeable by anyone other than me.  Every day there seems to be a little less hitch in my giddy up...my leg length seems to be evening out, slowly but surely, which is helping my gait inch its way toward normal.  Midday is when I feel my best, when the stiffness from being in bed all night melts away and before the fatigue of getting around all day sets in.  

The rest of my movements are starting to feel more free and easy, not requiring as much thought.  I don't have to back myself into bed anymore and can climb in pretty much the way I did before surgery.  I'm getting in and out of the shower with greater ease and only using the shower chair to shave.  Today was my last visit with the in-home PT, and she gave me the green light to start step ups with my left leg.  Until today, I've been taking stairs one at a time, stepping up with the right leg every time.  

I've been given a whole list of really basic exercises I can start doing and progressing as tolerated.  Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, because when I got out of the shower this morning, I noticed a flatness where my left butt cheek used to be.  

                                        right side                                                           left side

Granted, I'm sure there was plenty of atrophy on my left side before surgery, but seeing these side by side shots was alarming.  Looks like I'm adding "grow left ass" to my to do list.

Sleep has been another significant area of improvement.  My body aches less, I'm sleeping for longer stretches at a time, and I'm finding it easier to fall back asleep after I've woken up.  I've even slept through the night a couple of times in the past week.  I've tried lying on my right side with a pillow between my knees and feet for a few minutes, but I don't think I could sleep all night in that position.

I'm getting back to doing my every day things around the house, but in a slightly modified way.  I've done some laundry, but since I can't carry a full laundry basket yet (especially not up and down stairs), I throw the sheets or towels down the stairs and carry them in manageable loads to the washing machine.  I still get help with my clothes since it would be a little more challenging to pick up all the little bits as they rain down the stairs.

Much to the delight of my family, I've gotten back to cooking some dinners.  I'm still building up stamina for time on my feet, so I'll all the chopping, slicing, and dicing, sit for a few, then get to cooking.  It's serving me well right now since I'm not working or playing Camryn's personal chauffeur and have time to spread the dinner prep out.

I'm a little annoyed that I'm cooking and cleaning yet still not driving, but I will stay the course and continue to be patient.  I was given the ok to ride in a car (shhhhh...what the PT doesn't know won't hurt her!), but she realllly wants me to wait til I'm four weeks out to start driving.  I think I can, I think I can.  I'm thankful Brynn has stepped up in the running errands for me department, and I have an incredible village that has helped me get Camryn to allllll the places a busy 14 year old girl without a license needs to be.  For now, I'll just make the most of my off duty status.

Walk This Way

 A dozen days after surgery, and every morning, I chuckle when I find myself moving a little better than I did the day before.  I think I expected the trajectory of recovery to be somewhat flatter than what it has been, so every speck of progress I notice feels like Christmas.  My PT told me I could get around without using the cane a little bit around the house, and that's been awesome.  I carry the cane with me and use it as soon as my gait starts getting a little wonky. 

One of the most helpful tidbits a fellow new hipper shared with me was that for a while after surgery, your surgical side will feel (or will actually be) longer than the other side.  I'm so glad she told me that because it prevented a full blown panic attack thinking the surgeon messed up.  She said eventually the hip settles in and you even out again.  I'm really looking forward to that, as I don't enjoy the little bit of a waddle I have going on right now.

My heartrate and blood pressure have been high when the PT has come and taken my vitals, and since that's not my norm, I'm hoping it's just part of the process of recovering from anesthesia and surgery.  But I did notice a low grade headache I've had this past week or so, and since I'm definitely not dehydrated, I don't feel stressed, and I'm taking Tylenol around the clock, I'm thinking it's from the elevated blood pressure. I asked Dr. Google what they thought about post-surgical blood pressure changes, and I came across an article about regular use of Tylenol causing high blood pressure in people with hypertension. 

Now I don't have hypertension, but it got me wondering if maybe all the Tylenol is contributing to my elevated blood pressure.  Since I have very little pain, I stopped taking the Tylenol during the day and only take it at bedtime.  I've had no issues with pain without it, and I no longer have a headache.  My watch says my resting heartrate is still around 90, and when I took my own blood pressure this morning it was still high, so my Tylenol experiment might be a bust.  The BP isn't high enough to need immediate medical attention, but if it continues after the next several weeks, I'll bring it up with my primary care doc when I see them in May.

On an excellent note, I've slept a little better the past few nights.  The verdict is out on whether that's because Ryan has been away, but we'll find out tonight when he gets back.  I still wake up after 3-4 hours and have some trouble going back to sleep, but that second half of the night is much more restful once I do fall back asleep.  I'm not as generally uncomfortable lying on my back, and while I'm relieved that's the case, I still can't wait for the day I can sleep on my stomach again.

I was lucky enough to have Dayna come down from New York to hang with me for a long weekend.  It allowed my family to take a break from waiting on me hand and foot and get out of town for a few days, and it allowed me to just be.  I spent about three full days not wondering if I was being needy and annoying and also not worrying about anyone else's needs.  We ate chips and salsa for dinner.  We woke up when we woke up.  We sat on the couch and drank coffee.  We played scrabble in the sunshine.  We watched the Eras Tour. We talked, uncensored and uninterrupted.   It was truly delightful.

My family returns today, Ryan will go back to work tomorrow, and my kids will be home all week for spring break.  I think my challenge will be finding a good balance between letting them come and go as they please while also making sure my needs are met.  I'm getting around better for sure, but I'm still lacking the strength and stamina to do it all, all day.  Wish me luck. 

Well It's Been One Week

 When I discussed hip replacement with those who've been through it already, the main takeaway was that the first week is rough, but it gets better and better after that.  Here we are at the 1 week post-op mark and holy shit.  I'm in awe of how not rough this first week has been.  The day of surgery was fine thanks to some residual anesthesia, the evening after was probably when my pain was at its highest, but still tolerable, and every day since has gotten better.  

The pain at its worst could best be described as it feeling like someone dropped a bowling ball on my thigh.  From a very high building.  I took my meds, went to bed, and haven't felt that way since.  I'd say the swelling in my thigh was at its worst the second day post-op.  It didn't look too bad when I was sitting, but when I stood up, hello Quadzilla.  Ice, elevation, and movement kept the swelling from creeping down below the knee, completely avoiding a cankle situation.

I took my first "shower" on Saturday, in which I sat on the shower chair facing the faucet and ran the tub faucet instead of the shower, washing everything with my handy dandy loofah on a stick.

Ryan used a pitcher to wash my hair and helped me shave my left leg.  I felt like a new woman.  My next shower was Monday, and we changed things up a bit.  This time I sat on the shower chair facing away from the faucet with the actual shower running and was able to do everything myself.  So so good.  I just needed help getting in and out of the tub to be on the safe side.  And can we talk about why all showers don't just have seats in them?  Soooo nice.

By Sunday, I ditched the walker for crutches to get around downstairs and even took them outside for a short walk.  Full disclosure, this was my own decision and not instructed by my care team, but having been on crutches numerous times in my life, I felt comfortable and completely stable and safe using them.  I've kept the walker upstairs and use it to get ready for bed and in the middle of the night for trips to the bathroom when I wasn't feeling the most steady on my feet.  PT was back at the house today and gave me the green light to drop down to a cane.

  

Sitting here with the cane hooked on the arm of the chair is bringing back fond memories of my firecracker of a grandmother.  You'll know I'm really feeling good when I start hooking the cane on my arm like a purse instead of using it for its intended purpose like she did. 

The PT also took the top dressing off my incision, revealing a beautifully healing line down the front of my thigh.  There's still a layer of tape on top, which will come off at my post-op visit at the end of April.  I'm no stranger to scars, so this will just be the newest of my collection.

As far as the rest of my daily activities go, I'm able to get myself dressed, with the only exception being putting a sock on my left foot.  Since winter won't leave, socks have been a necessity.  Until this morning when I was cleared to use the cane, people have had to carry everything for me.  I tried not to take advantage or be too needy, consolidating my needs so they can bring me everything all at once.  I'm sure my family will love that I can get my own damn water now.

My chief complaint at this point is still sleeping on my back.  As in, I don't do it well.  I manage to get a few hours in at first, but the rest of my body gets so still and sore lying in one position all night, making it really hard to fall back asleep for any substantial amount of time after that. I want nothing more than to roll over onto my stomach and sleep for hours.  All in good time, and until then, I'll take advantage of being able to catnap during the day.

I'm really excited to see where I'll be a week from now.  I imagine self-discipline will be put to the test to keep myself from overdoing things.  What a great problem to have.

Counting Sheep but Running Out

We're on Day 4 post-op and I'm settling into this monotonous new routine pretty well.  Once I'm awake, I consolidate my efforts on my feet by washing my face and brushing my teeth when I make the first trip to the bathroom.  Then I head back into bed for a little bit and Ryan brings me my coffee, meds, and miralax.  I've been off the harder stuff since Friday, only taking extra strength Tylenol for pain and baby aspirin to prevent blood clots. Unfortunately, my gut hasn't caught up yet, hence the miralax.  I'll usually read a few chapters while Ryan gets in a workout...gotta keep him moving too!

Eventually I get dressed and make my way downstairs.  I've been able to manage getting dressed myself with the exception of putting on my left sock.  Once I'm downstairs, I do a few laps, hit the bathroom again, and park it on the couch or armchair for a nice little ice session.  I am not exaggerating when I say my ice pack is everything.  I've had it for several months and was using it before surgery, but my love for it has grown exponentially after surgery.

Ryan will bring me some breakfast...usually some cottage cheese with everything but the bagel seasoning and some mixed berries.  After the first day, I had to educate him on what a normal person's portion looks like.  We'll chat, I'll read or scroll through my phone, checking my brackets (all but busted), playing various New York Times games, or getting a good laugh about the reels Brynn sends me.  I've been lucky enough to have visitors each day, which has definitely helped keep my spirits up.

Lunch and dinner eventually follow, sandwiched between laps around the first floor of the house.  I've been eating small, healthy meals to keep my gut happy, but also because I'm getting in about 450 steps a day and summer is coming.  

I'd say my primary issue right now is sleeping at night.  Pain isn't the problem, it's position.  I'm a stomach sleeper, and having to sleep on my back right now is not going well.  The PT suggested putting a pillow under my right leg to help take some pressure off my back, and I've rolled up a towel and shoved it under the fitted sheet to keep my left leg from rolling out.  It helped a lot the first night I tried it - I went from waking up every hour to every three hours - but last night was a tough one.  I was up every other hour and just wanted to roll the hell over and get some sleep.  

As far as the actual hip goes, it's feeling great.  I've got some swelling and stiffness in the left quad and a little achiness in my left glute, but I'm not in any great pain.  The first few steps any time I get up are a little slow going, but I can cruise once I get moving.  I don't feel ready to ditch the walker for the cane just yet, but each day gets a little better.   I find myself leaning on the walker less and less for much of the day.

I do find myself hitting a wall every night, usually around 7pm.  I'm stiff and sore, and the connection between my brain and my left leg is diminished.  I'm tired, cranky, and out of patience, and the best thing for everyone is just to get me to bed.  Essentially, I'm an infant.  

The progress I notice each day is exciting, and I'm hopeful that my trajectory is more of a straight shot up than a squiggly line full of peaks, valleys, and turns.  Patience is key, and while it's not my strong suit, I'm hanging in there pretty good.

Hip to be Square

 It's day 2 post-op, and I continue to feel pretty good.  I would say my pain was at its highest last night around 7pm, and I knew I just needed to get in bed and snuggle up with my ice pack.  Even with waking up about every hour last night, I feel like I had more restful sleep than the first night.  I've only taken the oxycodone at night, and have done fine with tramadol during the day.  Since my chief complaint is stiffness and not pain, I think I'm going to give the tylenol a try tonight and see how it goes.  The sooner I get off the harder stuff, the better I'll feel.  

Big day today...the in-home PT came for our first session this afternoon.  It wasn't an total ass-kicking, but I did feel a little wiped out afterward.  We walked some laps around the house, I proved my proficiency in navigating stairs, sitting, and standing, and she gave me peace of mind that I'm on the right track.  It's been pretty boring just sitting around most of the day, but knowing it's exactly what my body needs helps me chill out a bit.  She said next week we'll go take some walks outside and I can't wait.  If tomorrow's weather wasn't supposed to be complete rubbish, I'd take all this sitting around outside.  Maybe Sunday.

Take it Easy

 Total hip replacement, done and dusted.  Five stars.  Would highly recommend.

Granted, I'm 24 hours post op and could be speaking prematurely, but for now I will give credit where credit is due.  That credit belongs to my care team, consisting of Ryan (even with the adorable deer in headlights look he gets when dealing with medical stuff), the nurses, doctors, PAs, and PTs at Sentara Leigh.  They made what one would imagine to be a really rough day seem like a walk in the park.  Ok, a really slow walk in the park with the aid of a walker.

Here's the race day - I mean surgery day - recap.  Woke up, sent my kids on their merry way to school, selected Missy Elliott radio on Pandora, showered using the antiseptic cleanser I was instructed to use, dried my hair since I wouldn't be showering for days, and hit the road.  I arrived about 20 minutes early for my 8:30 check in, and was smacked in the face with freshly brewed coffee in the waiting room.  Rude.

There was no hesitation getting me back into a room, stripped down into my ginormous hospital gown, and hooked up to an IV.  Then we waited and waited and waited for 11:30 to roll around and get the party started.  My favorite part of that wait was every single person who came in to talk to me reminded me of how young I was.  My surgeon seemed excited that was a lightweight and was looking forward to a less strenuous procedure for himself.  I certainly haven't felt young and thin in quite some time so to hear it over and over was really quite lovely.  

The nurse anesthetist came in to get me started with what she described as a light sedative to make the spinal a little less unpleasant.  My last experience with a spinal was when my kids were born and I wasn't given a sedative, but just told to hold still while slumped over a huge contracting uterus, so I was excited to be given something to take the edge off before they jabbed a needle in my spine.  Except within about 30 seconds of her injecting her magic potion, the room got all wavy-like and I remember nothing else until I woke up in recovery.  Ryan claims I was awake when they wheeled me out of that first room, but the lights were on and no one was home.  

The recovery room is all a little foggy, but I remember seeing our friend Dawn, who I completely forgot works in radiology at that hospital.  Friendly, familiar faces are so good to see when you're at your most vulnerable.  

From the recovery room, I was wheeled into another holding pen of sorts...a big room with a few other patients waiting to see PT to get cleared to go home. By this point it was about 3:30pm, and I hadn't eaten since 8pm the night before.  They claim you can't eat because of the anesthesia, but I'm pretty sure it's to make you so hungry that hospital food actually tastes good when you finally get to eat.  That turkey and cheese sandwich hit the spot.

Once I regained feeling in my legs and feet, they had me up with a walker, making my way across the room to a recliner.  I sat with my legs elevated with an ice pack and compression devices on to help prevent blood clots.  Dead sexy.

I had a visit from the PT, who had me do some seated exercises before heading to another room to tackle some stairs.  It's times like these that I'm so thankful for my athletic training background.  You're given so much information about how to care for yourself and how your caretakers can help, and I'm sure Ryan was overwhelmed (see "deer in headlights" reference above).  Luckily for us both, the whole "up with the good, down with the bad" mantra regarding navigating staircases has a permanent place in my neural pathways.  This knowledge definitely puts me at ease, which I think helps Ryan feel less nervous.  Tuition money well spent.  Go Bombers.

We also got to see a childhood friend of Ryan's, who's a bigwig in the ortho nursing department.  Maybe that's why everyone was so good to me...thanks, Christina!

Once I got the ok from PT (and the nurse who helped me pee), I was ready to go home.  I got wheeled out to the car, backed my way into the passenger seat, and we were off.  Just like that.  It was the easiest day ever.

It felt great to be in the comfort of my own home.  While it's still mind blowing that I literally had part of my femur sawed off and replaced with metal and didn't have to stay in the hospital any longer than I did, I can totally see the benefit of getting patients home quickly.  

My first night with my new parts went really well.  My pain level wasn't all that significant, but I took an oxy before going to bed in hopes of staying ahead of any pain that may be lurking ahead.  I don't sleep well on my back, and I think that kept me awake more than the actual pain did.  Still, I took another oxy in the middle of the night just in case.  By morning, my pain level hadn't increased at all, so I scaled back to the tramadol instead.  That seems to be sufficient today, but we'll see how things go.

I've been getting up every hour and using the bathroom (I'm incredibly well hydrated!), and doing a few laps around the first floor of my house while I'm up.  After that, I ice for 20 minutes, and a few minutes later it's time to repeat the process all over again.  Ryan has been so great, getting me all the things and keeping me company.  He got to tag Brynn in this evening so he could take Camryn to the dentist, and I'm so glad (and a little jealous) he was able to get out.  

My in-home PT starts tomorrow, so that's our big thing we get to look forward to.  Otherwise, I'm just trying to be patient and not over do it.  As my surgeon said, there's no prize for doing more than I'm supposed to.  I'll have to keep reminding myself of that when I really start feeling good.

A big thank you to everyone who has checked in with me, popped by to visit, and brought or sent goodies our way.  My village rocks and I'm incredibly grateful.

It's the End of the Road

 Tomorrow is the big day.  What feels like a finish line will really only be the start of the climb back to being me.  Bring.  It.  On.

If the four months between scheduling surgery and actually going under the knife were a marathon training cycle, then I definitely experienced some taper crazies this week.  I've been holding on for dear life, hoping nothing would come up that would cause my surgery to be postponed.  I walked a fine line between trying to work as much as possible before the big day and trying not to get sick doing it.  I was eating really well,  drinking tons of water, going to bed early, and my hands were raw thanks to the gallon of hand sanitizer I used each day.  Last Monday (9 days out), I worked in PE on a beautiful sunny day.  I was outside more than I was in, which helped ease my germophobic mind a little bit.  Working PE is by far the toughest on me physically (it's no joke mentally either, TBH!), and by the end of the day, I felt like I got hit by a truck.  My whole body hurt, and I could feel my face was warm with sunshine from all the time spent outside.  Par for the PE course.  Until later that night I started having chills.  I hobbled upstairs to where I keep my thermometer and popped it in my mouth.  

99.7. 

I didn't take any meds because this happened to me a few months ago and the little baby fever was gone by morning.  I was in bed by 7:30 and asleep before 8, and I'm thrilled to report it worked like a charm.  All I had to do was survive two more days with little booger eaters and my last two days of work would be with high schoolers, who are far more skilled at keeping their germs to themselves.

I made it through the week (thank you, immune system!), and we headed out of town Friday afternoon for a college visit at Virginia Tech.  It was a quick trip - up Friday, tour stuff all day Saturday, home Saturday night - but it was just what I needed to distract me.

Right outside our Airbnb window

Go Hokies!

Determined to squeeze every bit of movement into my last few days before my journey into the great unknown, Ryan and I threw the bikes in the car on Sunday and did a Sandbridge loop.  

While we were riding, some friends mentioned going to New Realm to enjoy Jesse Chong and some obligatory beer on St. Patrick's Day, and I certainly couldn't turn any of that down.  As is tradition, we ended up staying longer (and drinking more) than we originally planned, but it was too beautiful a day to call it quits early.

 

Monday was spent controlling the controllable.  Cooking, cleaning, laundry, errands. Procuring my durable medical equipment.  Clipping my toenails while I can still reach them.  A good long bike ride.  Collecting a few more holds from the library.  And when I realized March Madness starts on Thursday, I printed out a bracket to fill out.  Yay for having something fun to "do" while I'm stuck doing very little.

Today has been more of the same.  Grocery shopping, chopping veggies for quick healthy snacks, more laundry, more errands.  Waiting for the phone call telling me what time I need to be at the hospital tomorrow (8:30am check-in, surgery at 11:30).  Spending some time sitting in my feelings, appreciating all the incredible things this little hip joint has done for me over the past 45 years...all the cartwheels and handsprings, all the miles run and finish lines crossed, easy waves caught and tough spills learning to snowboard, carrying the weight of my two girls (both inside and out).  That little ball and socket have served me oh so well, but it's time to let them go and get back to go-getting.  See ya on the flip side.

Back to Good

 10 days out.  Holding it together by keeping busy with work, housekeeping, and meal prepping, and reading is and always has been a wonderful distraction from reality.  Obviously the world doesn't stop turning because my world is about to be turned upside down, and hearing people talk about plans they have in the very near future scatters my brain a little.  I can't commit to a thing past March 20th, and while I'm told I'll be getting around pretty well after that first month, it all still feels like a big question mark.  Trying that whole patience thing and letting whatever happens happen.

I had myself a moment today after seeing this photo come up in my Facebook memories:

It was after my last long run before the Shamrock half marathon in 2017, and I was probably as fit as I've ever been in my life.  I look at that photo now and feel a sense of mourning over not feeling like that person anymore.  Strong.  Athletic.  Limber.  Joyful.  Of course I have plenty of things in my life that bring me joy on a daily basis, but for the past 18 months or so, I have felt like a watered down version of myself.  And also like the tin man.  I'm so ready for Psimas to get her groove back.

Do You Get Deja Vu?

14 days out.  Feeling lots of feels, with anxiety emerging from the deep, dark place I've shoved it down into since I scheduled surgery back in the fall.   The fear of the unknown is occupying a lot of real estate in my mind right now, yet what's funny is that it kinda feels strangely familiar.  I keep finding ways this process reminds me of training for a marathon.  And when I was training for marathons, that process kept reminding me of pregnancy and childbirth.  There's an important date circled on my calendar.  It's all I've been thinking about for months.  I know something big is going to happen on that day, but I don't know how it will all go down or what I'll feel like after that big thing happens.  I've been preparing my brain and my body and my family for the challenges we'll face after that day.  I'm terrified of getting sick right now and having all that hard work not even matter.  See, just like training for a marathon or preparing for childbirth.  I've done both of those things multiple times, on every occasion coming out on the other side feeling exhausted and in pain but in awe of what my body was capable of.  I am hopeful this experience will be no different in that sense.

I had my first pre-op visit last week, where I went to Sentara Leigh's PASS clinic to have my bloodwork and EKG done.  Being in the hospital where I'll have the surgery made things sink in a little more, and seeing dozens of people roaming around with walkers was a gut punch.  I'll be one of those people soon.  Yikes.  As much as I try to quiet my mind about this whole thing, my elevated blood pressure didn't lie.  As far as I know, the bloodwork and EKG looked good and we're all systems go.

Today was my last pre-op visit, this time with the surgeon's PA, although hype man might be a more accurate description of this guy.  He was pleasant, upbeat, and reassuring that I'll be back to doing everything I used to do...eventually.  He answered all my questions - and I had a bunch - such as:

- In addition to stopping supplements, do I have to stop taking my fiber powder a week before surgery too (the fear of constipation is real, y'all)?  No, just don't take it the morning of surgery.

- How big is the incision?  About 4 inches long

- Will there be stitches or staples that need to be removed?  Neither...the incision will be glued and taped.

- Do you recommend a walker or crutches?  Walker (less of a trip hazard).

- When can I shower?  3 days after surgery.

- When can I drive?  Definitely not while still using narcotics for pain, try to hold off until after the first post-op visit (4 weeks).

- When can I sleep on my stomach (fun fact: I snore like a chainsaw when I sleep on my back)?  Possibly after a week or so, as long as leg doesn't cross midline.

- When can I ride a stationary bike?  PT will decide.

- When can I ride a bike outdoors?  PT will also decide.

- When can I swim?  Depends on how incision heals, not before first post-op visit.

- When can I donate blood?  Give it at least 3 months.

- Will I be able to surf again?  Definitely.  Eventually.

- Will I be able to snowboard again?  Eventually.  Even if I fall a lot?  Yes.

Then things got real nerdy:

- Is there an increased chance of revision because of the hip dysplasia?  No.

- What's up with Kelly Slater?  At his age, why did he have his labrum replaced with a cadaver's and his femur cleaned up instead of going full send on hip replacement?  I haven't read about that but now I'll have to.

You can read about it here.

Having those two appointments under my belt have settled my nerves somewhat, and now we wait.  And continue to stock the freezer.  And take a good, hard look at my calendar if I'm not driving until the end of April.  And keep riding that bike to spin the crazies away.

Get Ready

We're in the 30 day window of the big day, and shit's starting to get reeeeeeal real.  All of my pre-op appointments are scheduled, as well as my first post-op appointment.  I got a good chuckle out of the scheduling process because there was no phone call to see what works with my schedule, they just emailed me and said this is when you're coming.  Sir, yes sir!  By some stroke of luck, I'm not scheduled to work on any of the assigned appointment days.  I've watched all the videos Sentara sent about how to prepare the night before and what to expect from the time you walk through the hospital doors until a few days after surgery, and I'll probably have Ryan do the same to help him wrap his brain around what his role will be.

Over the next several weeks, I plan to chip away at making some meals I can put in the freezer.  I know my family can throw a meal together when needed, but they don't quite have the ummm...stamina to cook night after night...after night, after night, after night.

This past week has been about dialing in my nutrition.  I've been dealing with tummy troubles for a while now and haven't worked all that hard to find a cause or solution, but with a major surgery looming, I've found new motivation to get to the bottom (haha) of it.  Getting my gut right has become a top priority, in the hopes it will help me recover quickly from surgery and continue to benefit me as get up into those late 40s. 

I've also leveled up my pre-hab game over the past couple of weeks, and will continue over the next month.  I discovered an entire library of stationary bike workouts on the Bodi app, and it's been so good for the body and brain to knock out a 30 minute video or two at the rec center.  My cardio has really taken a blow over the past year and a half, so feeling that heartrate get up has felt amazing.  

It's not lost on me that I find myself in the middle of a countdown this time of year.  For years, I was counting down to one Shamrock race or another, and my surgery just happens to be a few days after Shamrock weekend.  I'm quite familiar with having a date on the calendar and putting in the work required to set me up for a good outcome, but now I'm working hard only to be totally out of commission for a bit.  I have to keep reminding myself that I'm playing the long game here.  The hard work isn't for nothing...putting in the time and effort now will get me back to the things I love faster.  March 20th may feel like a finish line, but it's really more of a reset button, and I'm doing everything in my power to reset to maybe like Level 3 instead of Level 0.

I Don't Want to Wait

The cortisone injection I had the day before Thanksgiving only brought me only a month of relief.  It's like I never even had the injection in the first place.  The upside is that it removes all doubt that I could kick this can down the road for a while and subsist on daily PT and cortisone injections two or three times a year for a few more years.  Right now, my mind is singularly focused on

 So now we wait.  In pain.  All day.  Every day.  Some days I move better than others, and I take advantage of those days by being as physical as possible.  Even if I suffer for it later, the mental lift I get from moving my body is worth it.  I keep reminding myself that while this sucks right now, there is an end in sight.  I may be missing out on stuff with my friends and family right now, but I'll be back at it eventually.  It comes down to being grateful it's just a hip.  

While I count down the days until surgery (62), I'm doing everything in my power to set myself up for the quickest and most successful recovery possible.  I'm keeping up my daily strength workouts to make sure the rest of this body doesn't fall apart.  I'm diligent with the homework from my physical therapist, and I've added some basic hip strengthening and balance exercises in an attempt to be as strong and steady as possible going into surgery.  I get on my beach cruiser a few times a week for gentle motion and fresh air.  Correction, I get on Camryn's beach cruiser now because hers is aluminum and much lighter than mine.  Yeah, that's how far we've fallen.  Swimming once a week is good for the soul as well.  I ice my hip daily, using this ice pack that was sent from heaven.  I try to take ibuprofen only if I know the pain will keep me up at night.  Or if it's been brought to my attention that I'm being a raging bitch to my family (but if one of them asks "What's WRONG with you?" one more time...)

I'm also 18 days into what I've dubbed Joyless January.  It's kinda like Dry January where I've cut out all alcohol consumption, only with the bonus suckage of cutting out all sweets as well. The L-B's were creeping back on with all the holiday indulgences without the hardcore cardio to counteract them, and I'm hoping to create an optimal healing environment from the inside out.  It hasn't been as joyless as I imagined it would be, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious how Ryan's birthday cake turned out (homemade Nutella frosting!), and that bowling alley pitcher of beer looked reeeeeeeally refreshing.  

62 more days is a long time, but sticking to the things I know will help me from the day of surgery and beyond is keeping from totally losing it.