Paper or Dysplastic?

Closure.

2008-12-19T14:27:00.003-05:00

"So that's it?" My friend asked as we sat waiting for the play to start. "You're just DONE with the blog? It's over?" I made a face and did a little head wag while trying to come up with something conciliatory to say, but she wasn't done. "I need some closure here. You need to write a final post."

She was right, of course. I don't know if this is the absolute, final, end-of-an-era post, but I do need to wrap things up a little. It's the right time of year for it.

The Hip is: generally ok, with bouts of snarkiness that are short-lived and weather-inspired.

Will this hold steady? Who can say.

In the end, we can sit around and log every moment of discomfort, each twinge and ache, and try to create some sort of five-year viability projection out of safety pins and scotch tape, or we can recognize that we've tangoed with the MRIs, the CT scans, the arthroscopies, the surgeries, and of course, the raised toilet seat, and it's time to just have a life.

Thank you for the unflagging support through it all, and I can only hope that someone down the line facing what we've all faced will derive a little comfort from this, or at least a few laughs.

If I had to leave you with one last thing, it would be this: it's not about the hip.

(Go ahead - raise your hands to your face in horror. And then take a little time and think about it. You'll agree.)

And remember: Love is all there is.

Reunited

2008-10-08T16:30:00.002-04:00

And it feels so good.

My quadriceps above the knee on the surgery side has been doing a weird crampy thing for the past few weeks, and since I'm headed out on a pretty active vacation, I wanted to check in with Gym Teacher that I was cleared for takeoff. (I would tell you where I'm going, but you'd swoon with envy.)

It was the first time I'd seen her since before the revision surgery in April and she had a lot of questions. And her hands also had a lot of questions. Said hands were, as always, not afraid to ask them. She's all business about it and I love her, but under any other circumstances I might have needed to tell her I didn't roll that way.

Apparently, my pelvis is tilted and my sacrum is jammed on one side. She illustrated this by leaning on my hip bones with her hands and as she pressed on them said, "see - left side nice and mobile. Right side - JAM JAM JAM!" (punctuating each "JAM" with a press) and then she flipped me over and repeated it with her hands on my sacrum (read: ass) - "left side goes, nice, right side - STUCK STUCK STUCK!" And then laughed. I have to figure it's not that serious if she's laughing. And actually I know it's not that serious and the S-I joint can get stuck all the time so it'll be fine.

So the bottom line is that pain and whatnot can radiate out to all different places if the muscles have to overcompensate when things aren't moving as they should. She wants me to keep coming in to work with her and the massage therapist on staff. Massage paid for by my insurance? Don't need to ask me twice...

Hypocrite for a Cause

2008-09-11T20:32:00.003-04:00

I told Laura that I thought hip blogs should be about hip related things only. And now I have to be a hypocrite (or a hipocrite) but I think I can categorize this under "things I can now do that I would have had a hard time with pre-surgery" and if you're feeling very generous, you'll let me get away with it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VSK4zB_33Xc

Please comment, rate, link to it, send to 50 friends, etc.

If you're a facebooking type, you can become a fan:

http://www.new.facebook.com/pages/Yoga-Thugs/43686281096?ref=nf

First and last time I do this, I promise. Although Vol. 2 is actively in the works and will be coming down the pipeline, so you may want to bookmark the page...

Hip is good, things are good, no pain, all is well. (this is sort of like when you talk business for 30 seconds at the end of your expensive dinner so you can call it a business dinner for tax purposes.)

Special/Normal

2008-08-28T15:01:00.004-04:00

The fact that I can walk around the city all day without pain still hasn't lost its shiny allure, I'm happy to say.

But I feel like I'm returning to the ranks of the regular, of 'normal' people, and as life often seems to, it makes me contemplative. Does what I went through over the past 2 years relegate me always to the ranks of special? And by special, I don't mean "we're all special in our own way/I believe the children are our future/I'd like to buy the world a coke."

I mean, special*. You know, special.

Special like when I was in class last week working on a challenging pose and the teacher said to the room, "that's Sarah, our miracle girl."

Living pain-free will always be special, and it is a gift that I don't take for granted. It encircles my every moment and allows me to step boldly into each day. It gives me freedom from living a compromised, less-than-total expression of myself, free from physical self-censorship (as in "no I can't come to your party in Brooklyn" "no I can't go out dancing with you" "no I can't go on a hike" with the unspoken understanding that my body just couldn't take it).

On the flip side, it's exactly that specialness that allows me to be normal, to say yes instead of no, to dance and run like any other person. And in many ways it feels good to be normal. The daily frustrations of living with chronic pain make it seem like the condition has you, like it exists even before your name in the way the world sees you and even, after time, in the way you see yourself.

Feeling normal, for me, feels special.

Quotes

2008-08-21T19:57:00.004-04:00

"Everybody laments. But the wisest people turn their greatest tragedy into their greatest triumph. Life gives you good practice."

-Shri Manorama-ji

"Some days, you're gonna have a day when you fuck up. Everybody does. And that's ok."

-man on street

Skyrockets in Flight

2008-08-18T16:31:00.002-04:00

Insurance Delight!

If you're pre-surgery, along with the other 10,469 things on your mind, you might want to make a few insurance-related phone calls so that you don't get smacked upside the head with half the bill, thanks to a little something called "amount allowable" (or "allowable amount" - either way, it's heinous).

To wit, your surgeon/anesthesiologist/hospital/whomever may choose to charge whatever they like, and your insurance company might choose to pay 70 or 80 percent not of what the surgeon/whomever has charged, but of what they consider the allowable amount for that entity. Said allowable amount may be a whole lot less than what your surgeon/whomever is charging. Like maybe, half as much. And then the coverage is only 70 or 80 percent of that. Which is even more less.

You will know when this has happened because several months after your surgery, when all is fine and dandy and life is a bunch of roses, you will find yourself post-lovely insurance lady (really, a sweetheart) phone call smacking your head into your computer screen, or another handy blunt object.

So, word to the wise. You're probably not going to like the answer whenever you get it, but at least you'll know. And as G.I. Joe always told us, that's half the battle.

Procrastinator 3: Rise of the Publication

2008-08-12T21:41:00.004-04:00

Ladies and Gents, it's here:

http://health.howstuffworks.com/hip-dysplasia.htm

Try not to laugh too hard at the fact that it's called How Hip Dysplasia Works.

(I can tell you how it works... mumble *bleep*)

Lauren and I worked hard on the original piece, and although it's been jollied up quite a bit, it's still (I think) the most comprehensive discussion of DDH and all its various concerns and whatnots.

If you have a blog and want to include this link, please do - the more that desperately seeking people can find it (unlike most of our experiences which involved lengthly and unsuccessful hunts for something - anything! about DDH that didn't involve dogs) the happier Lauren and I will be.

And as if the inside of my leg hadn't seen enough celebrity, it's also featured on the FO page of the site... so even more reason to click through. (Same goes for Lauren's PAO, FYI).

Big shout out to Tracy at HSW for giving it a home!

Marrow

2008-08-06T17:22:00.003-04:00

After a few days of circling and eyeing each other, MP and I are settling in to our new dynamic where she is now on the outside of my body. My initial urge to toss her into the river has passed, although if she hears about it I'm sure she'll pitch a fit.

I now carry her around with me wherever I go and shove her into people's faces, saying "Guess what this is?!?" If they know me, they figure it out pretty fast. (Strangers have been having a harder time identifying MP and generally just back away slowly.) I've had the conversation a few times now and it goes pretty much like this:

"Guess what this is?!?" (MP shoved into person's hand. Pause.)

"Oh my god - that was in you??"

"I know - crazy, right?"

"It's so heavy!"

"I know - crazy, right?"

"I can't believe that was in you!"

"I know - crazy, right?" (I've lost a little of my spontaneity.)

Except this morning, when I pulled MP out of my bag to show my student, and decided to just spill the beans for him rather than make him guess. "This was in my hip!" I said as I pushed it towards him. He was reaching to take it but at the words "in my hip" he recoiled and drew his hand back. "So you mean - it has your marrow on it?"

And here I thought I had sufficiently grossed myself out with every possible image.

No-one's ever busted out a marrow on me before. It made my stomach turn. But he was right, and I may have to readjust how aggressively I shove my marrow on people from now on.

Reunited

2008-08-01T14:59:00.007-04:00

And let me tell you, that sucker's heavy. No wonder I was so tired all the time.

I'll let the pictures do the talking:

Attempted reenactment of 2007.

It's super scraped up. I'm wondering when that happened.

I have a bunch more pictures but it's so labor-intensive putting them up here that I'm just going to stick them on my facebook page. Go have a gander over there if you like.

It's kind of weird to have it back. Like when you run into someone you dated seven years ago and you're both like, "Sooooo......"

I thought I was going to be all excited - and I am - but it's still a little weird. I'm glad to have the chance to see it, but I might not be able to keep it in my house. There may soon be a throwing into the river ceremony.

Never Give Up

2008-07-28T21:40:00.003-04:00

Gentle Reader, nothing less than a mini-miracle has occurred. Hold onto your pants, because:

Metal Plate was not, as previously suspected, thrown to the alligators in the pit beneath HSS.

Metal Plate battled through monsters and traps and pitfalls, the likes of which I'm sure approximated an Indiana Jones movie, and has made it to Dr. Buly's office.

The last ten minutes of the film, where MP is tearfully reunited with its long lost love/prior living quarters and then tosses off a sassy one-liner ("What took you so long?") will air in a few days.

All goofing aside, I'm actually as excited to see it as I would be a person. Is that weird?

Procrastinator 2: Publishment Day

2008-07-27T21:30:00.007-04:00

I was scrolling back through the blog in an attempt to both find and figure out when I first referred to this, Gentle Reader. And it turns out it was almost a YEAR ago.

First of all, I can never quite believe how long this public streaming of consciousness has been going on.

Secondly of all, I am, somewhatly, embarrassed? That it's taken this long for it to come to any fruition. But really, not that much embarrassed actually, since I doubt that any of you were losing sleep over the future prospect of whatever it is ever coming to light.

Thirdified, it appears that this post is about creating the worstliest writing that I can put, both down or together.

However:

Just got word that it is, in fact, going to happen. In three or four weeks. Aren't you excited? Just in a vacuumy kind of way, since you still don't know what the hell I'm talking about?

One caveat: it is not in the original form in which it was created. It has been, as they say, "punched up." It went from a very academic-sounding piece to - how can I put it - a little more simpler for folks to read...? I don't mean to sound ungrateful or diss the wonderful people who are giving it a place in the world, but let's just say it's not exactly my writing any more. However, I've seen and signed off on it because I want it to come out, and while I may take issue with the tone, it's got to be the best thing out there in terms of comprehensiveness (comprehensibility? comprehensation?). And at the very least you'll all be able to relax, finally.

I'll keep you posted. (That's seriously not funny in any way.)

Hips Don't Lie, the second

2008-07-18T19:02:00.003-04:00

I feel great.

I just want to say that.

My hip rarely bothers me, and when it does, it's about one-tenth of what it used to feel like.

Like I said before, makes it hard to have a bad day.

In response to Laura's question about the metal - I can definitely feel that my leg is getting stronger without it - much stronger than it was all last year. And I'm watching the flexibility come back in my yoga practice to a much greater degree. I can do all kinds of crazy nonsense on that side again like dragonfly and flying crow and eka pada yada yada. I don't know what it is anatomically, but I really feel that the metal got in the way of the muscles being able to strengthen and stretch properly.

I know after one surgery the last thing you want to do is go have surgery again, but FOs, it's worth it.

In other, sadder news, Metal Plate may be lost to the bowels of HSS.

Don't look at me like that. I tried. I really did. They're all weird and possessive over there.

Laura, it's on you now. Make sure you ask for it like a month before removal.

Special Olympics

2008-07-11T14:55:00.004-04:00

Red hand flashing for a good ten seconds. I'm still very much on the sidewalk trying to get around some tourists. Hand pings one more time and then holds red, but I am undaunted: I take off in a sprint across the street. I am not late, I don't have anywhere to be - I just want to do it because I can.

Late night on the LES, looking for a cab with friends, we spot one halfway down the block. At this hour we could stick our arms in the air and 5 cabs would run each other over trying to get to us, but I decide we're getting this one. I bolt like a gazelle (so says an eyewitness) and catch our cab. Friends not as excited about running in sandals, but admire my tenacity and lack of lopsidedness.

Add to the sprint, the long distance walk. I can walk for hours again, and do: through Central Park, along the Hudson, around the West Village, meandering for the simple joy of uninhibited movement.

[With love to all the angels whose ranks keep swelling: Barbara, Kevin, Lauren, Guido.]

Who Am I?

2008-07-05T22:53:00.000-04:00

I Ran, Part 2

2008-06-21T00:05:00.003-04:00

It appears that I can run (!!, right?). Although I don't yet appear to believe it and only ever manage to do it when I'm not thinking about it. Last time it was in pursuit of a bus, this time it was crossing the West Side Highway (for non-NYCers, it's 3 lanes of traffic in each direction) as the hand was blinking. We were partway across when my friend said "Let's go for it!" and took off; I was left with no choice but to run after him. And I ran! Didn't hobble or lurch or anything. Not only that, but I ran without pain.

Which is a new theme - pain-free days. After the (literally) years of mental and physical agitation, I am free, at least for now. Which makes it really hard to have a bad day.

Class Dismissed

2008-05-28T19:35:00.005-04:00

Had my 6 week check up with Dr. B today. As usual, I was the youngest person waiting for X-rays, but once into Dr. Buly's waiting area I saw a woman about my age on crutches. I wanted to flash her the secret hip dysplasia gang sign, but I'm not sure there is one. Someone needs to come up with that. (Lauren)

In any event, I am doing really, really well. It was a refreshing change to waltz into his office, high-five his assistant (ok not exactly, but we had a high-spirited exchange) put on the snazzy shorts, let him wiggle my leg around and get the surgeon's equivalent of the locker room "get outta here!" ass-smack. It felt like I aced the final of this crazy 2 year class in myself. Or to continue with my vaguely sporty theme, like I hit it out of the park with no outs left and the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth. (I like baseball.)

Of course there are no guarantees that other things won't come up, and as Dr. B reminded me, not everything wrong with my hip was addressed. However. Right now, I feel sound of mind and body, and take great pleasure in that.

Keep it Steppin'

2008-05-19T09:27:00.002-04:00

Did 2 1/2 miles of the AIDS walk yesterday, with wonderful Lauren on hand in case I needed a fireman's lift, which as it turned out I did not. Feeling good today, not in any pain, and as always that feels like a gift, like stolen time. I have my 6 week check up with Dr. B next week, so we'll find out if the holes have filled in.

Mobile

2008-05-15T23:14:00.003-04:00

Walked solo today. Hard, but good. First yoga class back tomorrow. We'll see how that goes. I'm sure there will be many complaints from various areas...

P.S.

2008-05-08T13:06:00.002-04:00

[Because the scar pic was not yet at a scroll down spot, and I don't want to force people to inadvertently see something they're not expecting, especially over breakfast]

But also - heard today that Metal Plate, while still currently serving time at HSS, will shortly be up before the parole board. Fingers crossed she doesn't do anything stupid like yell, "Dammit, I'm Swiss! Let me out of here!" and mess it all up for the rest of us.

XXX Scar Pics Redux

2008-05-08T11:08:00.004-04:00

As always, feel free to avert your eyes from this one.

It still looks a little gnarly, but overall is doing well.

One more week on the cane. Hallelujah.

OK, enough stalling:

Key:

Two white dots on upper left corner - arthroscopy from last year.

Big red blotch - site of former never-ending blister.

Long white scar - original incision.

And then you can see how starting slightly in from the left and extending about 2/3 of the way along the original incision is the latest one. For 3 weeks post-op, I think it looks pretty good.

Free

2008-05-01T17:26:00.003-04:00

I've been thinking: maybe the reason Dr. Buly didn't prescribe any PT for me this time around is because I don't need any. Maybe? I've been at the gym three days now riding the bike and keeping my leg as strong as I can, and today for the first time I got back on my yoga mat. BLISS. I started laughing because it made me so happy to be there. It's a lot of rolling around on the floor and not much else, but I'll take what I can.

And Gentle Reader, lest you think I've forgotten you, fret not. I know I owe you a picture. I actually took some this morning, but it still looks like someone mugged my leg. You'll have to wait, because I can't bring myself to post it yet (although I am more than happy to drop trou for anyone that comes over, so...).

Overall it feels so good to have the metal out of me. I feel like my leg's been liberated. There's a freedom in it, an independence that I've been missing. Something about it coming out is a signal to my mind and my body that I don't need it anymore, that I'm strong enough without it.

Gym Haiku

2008-04-29T16:29:00.003-04:00

Spring! Fifteen minutes
On the stationary bike.
Leg is glad. Then nap.

Yeah.

2008-04-26T11:46:00.001-04:00

Mm hmm.

Post-post

2008-04-25T12:05:00.002-04:00

Didn't mean to make so many people nervous with that last post. I am fine. Fever/chills are gone, although I'm still taking it easy. Mostly couch-surfing, eating brownies, and watching old episodes of Lost. Starting to get a little stir-crazy with inactivity, as well as itchy along the incision, which is a good sign. In addition, I ingested my last Vicodin yesterday morning and haven't felt the need for another. So meddling along as I should be, with just a brief trip down funk lane.

Headed Up the River With A Boat and No Paddle

2008-04-24T12:18:00.004-04:00

(and they got me on lockdown)

Laying in bed last night, heart racing, face burning up, body shivering. Song lyrics on repeat in my head (WHY does that always happen when you're not feeling good? And it's never a song you really like).

Two possibilities:

1. Meds are doing a number on me. Highly possible. Vicodin's no joke. Also still working all the crap out of my system from the hospital.

2. I'm overdoing it. Also highly possible, since I've been both to the movies and the theater within a week of having surgery. Hey, I never said I was a role model.

So as a consequence, I'm on lockdown until the inmates stop rioting. I think their demands are better met when I stop trying to pretend like someone didn't just cut a hole in my leg last week.

Good - Bad - Ugly

2008-04-22T09:25:00.003-04:00

Good:

- No more metal in me YAY!
- Supermom is back in full effect. I get so spoiled when she's here.
- I can walk around the block and a little more. (with crutches, obvi)
- Knee and hip both still bend a lot.
- Don't need a lot of Vicodin - taking 250mg three or four times a day (this time last year, 1500mg/3x day)
- Sun is shining
- Birds are singing
- Trees are treeing

Bad:

- Occasionally, I am super aware of the sensation of several large bags of rice tied around my upper thigh and pulling on my leg in a heavy and uncomfortable way.
- Other sensations include surface pain (sharp), deeper pain (throbbing) and midway pain (sharp throbbing). I could probably up the meds, but am wary of the detox factor to come. None of it is enough to cause alarm and all retreat soon after they rear up.

Ugly:

- Me, with pants off. The area looks like someone whacked me with a baseball bat and then covered it with steri strips.
- Me, with pants on. I have phenomenal, stop-you-in-your-tracks booty, but only on the one side.
- Both are temporary, and therefore more funny than ugly.

Metal:

- Has been formally requested via fax. However, I am slightly nervous that it may have been discarded already (apparently, you're supposed to request it ahead of time, FYI Laura et al). We shall see.

The Grand Unveiling

2008-04-20T10:24:00.002-04:00

Will have to wait, because I took the big bandage off this morning, and it's a little gruesome under there. Nothing that my tough hip sisters would flinch at, but a little too much dried blood and blister action to take an actual picture of. Once the steri-strips 'fall' off (not that I would ever do anything like play with the edges or peel them off. What kind of person do you take me for?) I'll take a picture and post it.

Dr. Buly claimed he only went in about half of the original 7 inch scar, but the steri-strips cover at least 5 inches of it. So either the strips are covering more than the incision, or he manipulated the truth. Or the truth shifted. I'm not really complaining. I'm not complaining at all actually, because for day 3 after surgery I feel really freaking good. Yesterday I only took 2 Vicodin, and today I've yet to take any. Leg is weakish and the surrounding muscles feel really tight, but so much stronger than it was this time last time. I'm tired by the end of the day, but big deal. If I can get off the Vicodin completely, I can get my drink on again. That's some serious motivation.

Done and Done

2008-04-18T12:12:00.003-04:00

Well, that was easy. I mean, relatively speaking.

In at 8.30am, scrubbed vigorously by the nurse and asked by the usual suspects what my name was and what I was having done, de-metaled (once again, no recollection past the anesthesiologist's "I'm giving you a sedative," in the OR) and in recovery by 1pm. Was pretty sleepy/wasted but told I could possibly go home that day if I felt up to it. Never one to back down from a challenge, I decided I would feel up to it, even though it made my mom's forehead crinkle. By 3pm I was much more alert, so a PT was summoned to go over crutch walking and stairs (just like James Brown, get up on the good foot). Nurse took the epidural out of my spine and the IV out of my hand and wheeled me out the door.

Was so glad to sleep in my own bed last night, although since I'm not a huge back-sleeper I rolled around a little too much and kept waking the beast. It's swollen back to shelf size, but only right where the incision is (which is still deep under wraps) and I have probably 75% range of motion in my leg and hip, which is really exciting (post first surgery, it was about 5%). Lord and Lady Nauseous McHeadache arrived early this morning (don't they know to call first? You'd think their manners would be better) but right now I feel pretty good. The less Vicodin I take, the better the rest of me feels, so finding the balance is my current job. That and eating rice pudding.

As for the metal, it went to pathology... for an autopsy? Don't really know why, but the deal is I call and request it, and it's sent to me. So don't worry, you'll see it soon enough. Once the bandages come off I'll show you my butt too, because I know that view never gets boring. Aw, yeah.

T Minus

2008-04-16T19:45:00.003-04:00

Surgery scheduled for 11.30am tomorrow. One hour in recovery, then an overnight at HSS.

I feel blessed to be surrounded by so many angels and I'm so grateful for your calls and texts and well wishes and prayers. And trashy magazines. Won't be posting from the bedside this time as my surrogate poster is currently in Hawaii, but will take copious notes and fill you in on Friday.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Old Friends

2008-04-14T18:11:00.000-04:00

Missed you guys!

Amazing

2008-04-14T09:27:00.000-04:00

Completely inspiring and worth your 18 minutes:

http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/229

Cleared For Takeoff

2008-04-10T17:01:00.003-04:00

Had my pre-op day today, and compared to last year's, it was a piece of cake. If this is the trend for the entire experience this time, then hooray I say.

It always strikes me as somewhat ironic and hilarious that HSS is so far east that it's practically falling into the river, in a part of town that's not exactly easy to access by public transport, when the people that need to get there are generally limping or on crutches for various osteo-issues. Couldn't they relocate to midtown or something?

Anyway, saw Dr. Goodman, my internist, who last time proclaimed I was "healthy as a horse," and this time noted that I "was clearly a vegetable eater." I'm not sure exactly what that means, but the good news is no Coumadin (blood thinner), no 5.30am blood donations, no special diet this time. Hooray I say again! Just aspirin morning and night post-op, and I am good to go.

Then to the nurse for blood etc. Not a donation, just to test for... stuff. I don't know. General health stuff. And things. Got my little brown sponge for the special scrub the morning of surgery and sent on my merry way. I had some time so I walked through Central Park on this glorious spring day and looked at all the people and kids and dogs, and the man playing saxophone, and felt good.

Not Fair

2008-04-08T00:21:00.003-04:00

I don't know about the rest of you, but sometimes this shit really kicks my ass.

Was practicing at home today, came into downward facing dog, took a deep breath and suddenly found myself on my hands and knees crying. Yoga hasn't made me cry in a long time, and in a way I'm grateful that it still holds the power to tap into something deeper than words. Yoga doesn't let me fake anything.

I had to write the sentence 'my surgery is next week' to someone today and it totally took me by surprise. Not fair, not fair, not fair!

Nope, not fair at all. But if I can let go right into that not-fairness, just settle into the sweet spot, cry when I need to and let it quiet me down, the not fair can be ok.

Remaining Neutral

2008-04-07T17:45:00.002-04:00

Was just informed by another FO'er that the metal plate which has so dutifully held me in place for the past year is Swiss made.

So in case you had any doubt, I am a precision instrument with a delightful fondant center.

3 Weeks

2008-03-27T23:09:00.003-04:00

It's a strange thing, knowing when you're going under the knife. Like knowing when you're going to be in a car accident. I get to wind down all the things that need winding down - students, classes, responsibilities. But it carries a strange air of ending, and at the same time within that ending the potential of all beginnings. It felt like this last time, like the life of the person before has to come to a close to allow for this new person to emerge. How much of me do I carry through each time? Maybe it seems melodramatic, but I think for anyone who's had something like this there is a deep shift. You're flung face first against the bottom of yourself, the limits of your personality. What are you going to do? I guess you can have this whole experience in a way that's shut off from your soul, and if that's the experience that you're having, more power to you. But I am deeply humbled by the fact that having had one surgery, I have a second in 3 weeks, and it's entirely possible that I may have more in my future. I am humbled by and grateful for this little body that's just doing its best to hold itself together as I fling more challenges at it (and of course, I'm not satisfied with just a body that can walk and talk - oh no - I have to be able to get my foot behind my head and balance on my hands). I am humbled by the fact that I get to have all these experiences at a relatively tender age - questions of breaking down that most don't have to deal with until later in life. I am deeply grateful for every time someone asks me how I'm feeling and really listens to the answer, even when it's not the answer they or I would like, and doesn't change the subject or try to look on the bright side. Let's all sit with this for a while, that there is no perfect solution, that we're all just working to get as good as we can, and let that be ok. I'm not trying to be depressing or morose, and I hope that comes through here. I'm trying to express what it feels like to me to allow exactly where I am to be ok, not to fight or cry about it, and to get quiet enough that it can teach me what it's supposed to be teaching me.

AIDS Trundle

2008-03-20T09:55:00.005-04:00

Once again, ladies and gents, I'll be crutching around the block twice (it's a lot, believe me! Imagine walking on your hands...) as my post-surgery AIDS Walk to support Ubuntu Education Fund on May 18th. I did it last year, and needed pea pod shoulder pads and a big nap afterwards. Am expecting same experience this year.

Why, you ask?

For kids like this:

And because Ubuntu is building a massive new center the likes of which have never before existed in the townships of Port Elizabeth, which will provide life-changing services, programs and support for the thousands of children and adults that Ubuntu helps every year.

I've seen them at work. It's real.

CLICK HERE to sponsor me! Even a little bit!

Surprise

2008-03-17T14:32:00.001-04:00

I leave it to Lauren to explain what happened this weekend. I think she'll have the best perspective...

Swim

2008-03-08T19:15:00.002-05:00

Anyone reading this with hip issues, I can say only one thing.

Get thee to a poolery.

I went swimming yesterday and it was fantastic. I can't wait to go back. I had a whole plan that I would swim for half an hour straight which after a few laps changed to 15 minutes, which became 12 when a really good swimmer guy got in my lane and started lapping me, but regardless, it was great. A little steam room afterwards and a happy hip. Of course, until walking outside was required again, but still. An issue-free hour. Investigated different styles and found breaststroke was best for working the whole range of motion. Can't recommend it enough, if you have a pool to go to.

Young Lady

2008-03-03T23:01:00.003-05:00

So here's what Dr. Buly said:

[Actually I need to back up, because I got young lady'd this morning in his waiting room and it's been such a long time since that happened that it struck me as kind of funny, although the young lady'er certainly wasn't having a good time - there were 3 of us waiting to see Dr. Buly and this one woman kept asking his assistant all these questions about where was he? (In a meeting) and what time was her appointment? (10.30) and how many people were ahead of her? (5) and where were they? In an attempt to help out with the last question I piped up, "I'm one of them" (I was at 9.45). "I wasn't talking to you, young lady!" she retorted. I hid behind my X-rays and looked at my femur, which has actually healed pretty nicely - it's all fuzzy where it's supposed to be fuzzy and reconnecting to itself. Young Lady.]

Anyway, got in to see the Dr. He's still shockingly bald. It always surprises me for some reason. He seems far too young to be SO bald.

ANYWAY, here's what he said:

The pain could in part be related to the plate (especially the pain that's along the outside of my leg, where the plate is) and most people experience relief when it's taken out. At the same time, although the coverage of the femur is now much better, the hip socket itself is still shallow, so he didn't rule out the possibility that I might need a PAO. I told him I just wanted to do the hardware removal and see how that goes, because frankly, I'm in no rush for this to become an annual springtime event (hey - it's April - how about some hip surgery!). He said that he can also look around in the hip joint when he's removing the hardware and see if there's a labral tear that's adding to the pain.

As for the surgery, it's only 45 minutes long, and will probably be in the afternoon, so I'll spend one night in the hospital and go home the next day. The holes are filled in with spackle (he called it something else but I like the idea of spackle for your bones) and he said that the 4 weeks on crutches with weight bearing is really more of a theoretical precaution than anything else (ie the likelihood of actually cracking the bone is low). The really good news is that during that time I can do non weight bearing exercise like swimming, walking in water and even the stationary bike. (and you can bet I'll be rolling around on my yoga mat too.) So the muscle atrophy which was so much a part of recovery last time won't be as bad by a long shot.

As for blood thinners, horrible greenless diet, early morning needles etc, the pre-op internist that I see the week before surgery will determine if that's necessary again. I vote no, but I don't think my vote counts for much.

Laura H, he says hi. Also I forgot to ask about keeping the hardware but I totally am. You know you'll see some pictures!

Road Runner

2008-02-29T16:01:00.002-05:00

Wednesday night it was bitterly cold here again, and as I was leaving the plush enclave of my private student's 5th Avenue apartment I saw my bus pulling up at the end of the block. Thinking only of how cold I would be standing waiting for the next one, I started to run - and only after several steps, like the Road Runner in the cartoon (or any number of times a cartoon character has run off a cliff) did I realize what I was doing. I was actually running pretty well until I caught myself and then the limp came back. Which begs the question, do I limp when I run because of a pre-determined idea in my head that I'm supposed to run that way? If I visualized myself running perfectly, would I be able to do it?

On a separate note, I have a new weird twinge in my outer hip, predominantly when I step up climbing stairs, but sometimes, for the hell of it, just walking along. It's a totally new, odd feeling - almost like something is catching. In my mind, it's a tendon rubbing over the metal. I have no medical proof for this. We'll see what Dr. Buly says on Monday. Full update as well on the whole thing. One cool thing I was thinking about today is that if I get to keep the plate after it's out, I can post a picture of it! (Yeah... ok. Cool only to me, then. And perhaps anyone else who is having/has had an FO).

Fate

2008-02-27T08:21:00.002-05:00

A student sent me this article yesterday and it made me feel better. I'm sharing it because even though it's not about hip dysplasia, she's dealing with the same head space. Hopefully you'll get something out of it too.

It's slightly less cold here now so hip's not hurting as much. It seems to flare up below 30 degrees. Good thing spring's coming.

Full Disclosure

2008-02-21T09:55:00.003-05:00

I didn't want to write this.

I've received tons of emails and messages from fellow hip women that all say how much they love the positivity and humor in my blog and how much it's helped them get ready for their own surgeries. I felt like admitting anything less than total success would be to let you all down in some way. But then I remembered the very first entry that I wrote, sometime around this time last year, and how I promised that I would tell all, good, bad and ugly.

So what I haven't been saying, what I've been trying to protect you from, is this:

I'm in pain. My hip hurts. Not just the ass spasms, but in the front, along the crease, the way it used to pre-surgery.

It's not constant, and I think it's related to the recent cold weather and having to pound along on the concrete streets of NYC, but it's really depressing me. I can't help but feel like all this was for nothing.

I know that there was always a possibility that this surgery wouldn't be enough. On the other hand, maybe it has been enough, maybe I don't need anything else except to move to a warmer climate (Matt and Marla you may get your LA wish after all). Or maybe I need a PAO as well. I don't know. Maybe the reality is, once dysplasia starts to show up, the available options are just stop-gaps along the road.

I don't like feeling that I don't have an answer. But I have to be honest, and sit here, and tell you that I don't. Maybe you have the answer for me.

Watch This Space

2008-02-19T10:39:00.003-05:00

Nothing happening* right now, Gentle Reader, but lo! On the horizon I espy a bald hip doctor advancing on horseback, X-rays in hand, ready to reach into my leg and pull out the alien invader that threatens world domination!!

March 3rd 8am X-rays 9am Dr. Buly. Pre- pre-op meeting. Site of questions such as:

Really, crutches again?
Am I going to be off vegetables again due to my super-human clotting capabilities?
Will people be arriving at 5.30am again to take blood out of my arm? Couldn't they come at a more civilized hour?
Will I decide again that a brownie a day is an appropriate dietary choice for a mostly sedentary being?
Will my mom make toast and tea and bring it to me in bed, again? (He may not have the answer for this one)

All semi-joking aside, I remember experiencing more than one strong urge to rip into my leg and pull out the metal last summer. This urge required a serious talk with myself about the foreign body that was there to help, and how I needed to let it be. I'm still aware of its presence, especially when I lie on that side, but now I'm feeling an odd nostalgic longing that starts in the middle of my chest when I think about having it removed. It's kept me upright for a year now. Can I do it on my own? What happens when the training wheels come off?

*and by nothing happening of course I mean I still get ass spams and run pretty gimpily.

Running Update

2008-01-22T16:03:00.000-05:00

I'm still crap at it.

End of an Era

2008-01-14T17:52:00.000-05:00

Been meaning to write that Gym Class ended. Not because Gym Teacher wanted to or thought I was ready - I think in her perfect world I would go to PT for the rest of my life - but because Insurance was ready to stop paying for it when 2007 became 2008. "PT feels so - I don't know - last year," yawned Insurance. "We're kinda over it. Aren't you?"

Kinda...? I feel really good, although I discovered that I still need to go to the gym and work the one-legged hamstring curl et al. Leg is unable to maintain a regular level of strength without it. It's a funny thing, because if I don't go, it kind of atrophies a little (maybe not visibly, but I can feel that it's weaker) and even just walking around I can feel the difference between them.

So I'll keep working the leg like a good little gym rat. If I get any parting words of advice from Gym Teacher that are particularly postworthy, you'll be the first to know.

Upped and Outed

2008-01-04T16:59:00.000-05:00

Just got a call from Elaine, the greatest physician's assistant on the planet, to let me know that my surgery is going to be moved up a week to April 17th, as Dr. Buly's out of town the following week.

No problem. And then:

"So I hear you've written a blog!"

SO BUSTED!!!

Actually I don't know why I feel like the kid with their hand in the candy jar. She was delighted that I was sharing my experiences, and said that it was so helpful for other patients, and even went so far as to say that she heard it was "very good"!

Well then. I thank you. I've been emailing with a pre-op patient of Dr. Buly's and I'm reminded of myself this time last year, when it seemed like every question I got answers to only led to five more. Preparing obsessively so that I didn't have to think about anything else, like what the hell was it going to be like afterwards? From the other side now, I feel great sympathy and compassion, and can say only this to everyone, regardless of surgery, pain, fear, confusion, insurance:

You are going to be fine, and after an unspecified period of time, your life will return better than before.

This Time Last Year

2008-01-03T10:56:00.000-05:00

I was scrabbling around trying to find someone who knew what to do with me.

I could take about 25-50 steps, depending on the day, and then would be in pain any time I tried to walk after that.

I was sick of hearing the phrase 'pain management' from well-meaning nurses and doctors who were not themselves experiencing any pain (I don't want to MANAGE my pain, I want to be in a body that is not IN pain. Do you see the difference, smiley nurse lady?)

To my fellow hip women, wherever you may be on this mad journey: there is a light, I promise, and there are so many of us out there now to support you getting there. Kick-ass Lauren and I are almost done with our secret project that we hope will make things even better.

Growing Pains

2007-12-20T10:59:00.000-05:00

Add ice skating to my list of recovered skills.

And - my leg is getting bigger! It's now only 1/2" smaller in diameter than my regular leg. (Which may have more to do with Christmas cookies than anything else, but still.) As much as my yogic perspective makes every step on the elliptical machine another notch of binding in the front of my hip that I'll have to undo later, every one-legged hamstring curl another millimeter of forward bending that I have to refind, it seems to be working. Although my butt still spasms on a daily basis. I have magnesium oil which I am supposed to rub on the area, which is supposed to take care of the situation. I have my doubts, as you can probably tell.

In any event, walking without joint pain and not having to plan my day based on how much I can handle before I have to throw in the towel and just go home is the best holiday gift I can imagine. The rest is small potatoes.

Secret Jog

2007-12-12T00:14:00.000-05:00

Halfway through my jumping routine yesterday, Gym Teacher pulled me in close, lowered her chin, and glancing around furtively, whispered, "I want you to jog."

"You want me to WHAT?" I exclaimed, blowing her cover.

"Just, try. Slowly. Walk a few steps and then build it up."

Gentle Reader, it weren't pretty, and it weren't for more than 5 steps, but I jogged. When I tried it again later that evening, it was very gimpy. Baby steps, but I'm getting somewhere.

Fitter Happier

2007-12-07T13:43:00.001-05:00

I'm getting really good at jumping. I can jump up and down, I can jump side to side. Jumping with one foot forward and one foot backward though has proved to be my greatest challenge (the aforementioned 'pony prance') and thus the one I have to work on the most. I also get to gallop, right foot forward, in whatever setting I deem fit. Galloping, for those that were not childhood practitioners, is the same action as skipping, except without alternating legs - you just go bonkers on the one side. It's pretty fun and yesterday when I had dragged myself, worn out from several days of city-wide mad dashing featuring multiple costume changes (yoga teacher! young mom for audition! yoga teacher again! hip urban woman for audition!) to gym class and explained to Gym Teacher that I was very tired, she would have no part of it and made me start the mad jumping routine. There's not much bouncing in adult life, and it's a shame, because I definitely felt better afterwards. Perhaps I shall begin to gallop down the street to get places.

I still run like a gimp though. Did a little dash through the turnstile to the waiting subway train this morning and could immediately sense that had I galloped, I may have retained a little more dignity.

Insurance Irony

2007-12-03T18:57:00.000-05:00

I get my insurance by doing things like this:

http://www.chocolatecomestolife.com/productnews/

As it says at the end, life is full of chocolate surprises.

Since commercials generally like people to look the same on both sides, and also successfully walk into the room to audition unaided, I was on hiatus all summer post-surgery and only recently started auditioning again. Because of this, I have not earned enough money to remain in the top tier of insurance and have been unceremoniously dropped to the second tier. Grrr. I have another employer from whom I could receive insurance, but then I run the "pre-existing condition" risk.

Further investigation required to see what this will mean for next year's surgery. There is an option to pay more with my current insurer (of course) to remain in the top tier, but (of course) it's an enormous amount per month - over $800 more (of course). Essentially, just more pain in an area that's already in spasm half the time. Also, if I work enough between now and surgery, there's a chance I would return to my former heights of insured glory.

The more laissez-faire you can be going into an audition, the greater chance you have of booking the job. Usually people are driven to get all hyped up and over-perform due to an intense desire to succeed as an actor. I just want to get the metal out of my leg. Maybe I should bring in a "Will Work For Surgery" sign.

Measurements

2007-11-30T16:35:00.000-05:00

As a yoga teacher, one of my constant joys is watching students develop and grow - a triumphant first headstand, the click of comprehension about alignment, even the simple glow of contentment that regular yoga practice inevitably brings.

Measuring my own progress has also proved invaluable on days when I still feel gimpy, spasmy and the like. At gym class yesterday I was remembering how my wobbly initial attempt at transition from crutch to cane had to be postponed a month until I grew stronger. Now I stride through the door like someone who's there with a shoulder injury.

After several rounds of hopping and jumping (and discovering that I can now jump up and down on the spot, which hurt the first time I tried it a few weeks ago) I mentioned to Gym Teacher that my legs were, as far as I could tell, still different sizes. Out came the tape measure as she made little pen marks on my legs and wrote down circumferences. "Your right thigh is an inch smaller than your left," she confirmed, and discussion of various weight machines at the gym followed, which is a source of great pleasure to me, as I've really had it with the 5 lb ankle weights. And then of course, the inevitable:

"What if we measured your buttocks, from your coccyx to your greater trochanter, ha ha ha!" she laughed. "Ha ha ha," I agreed, which set her off even more. In the six months I have known this woman, I have never seen her let out more than a mild titter. The butt joke had her literally doubled over. I guess when it comes to anatomy humor, you take it where you can get it when it.

Giving Thanks

2007-11-23T22:06:00.001-05:00

In honor of the season, I'm so grateful that I live in a world where I can access the kind of surgery that makes it possible for me to walk around Central Park all afternoon on Thanksgiving, taking pictures with friends, admiring the changing leaves and only spasming a little towards the end. (Couldn't resist. At least I didn't say the other part.) Thanksgiving last year, this would not have been possible.

And not that I'm complaining, just a situational update, that running is still not in the cards. I was crossing the street today a little after the light had changed and did that little hopalong pretend run where mostly you just move your arms but it sort of looks like you're putting some effort into moving faster, which made me wonder what would happen if I did break into a little jog, so I tried it, and then after a few steps realized that was a bad idea and quickly went back to just waving my arms. Takeoff is fine, but joint still doesn't like the impact of landing. That's ok. I'm fine with not running for now. Everything else is working pretty well, and that's enough.

Spasm

2007-11-17T21:36:00.000-05:00

I toyed with the idea of keeping this next nugget to myself. "Self," I said, "There's no need to subject people to this. Haven't you made them read enough? Didn't you show them an awful lot of upper thigh in those scar pictures? And the special toilet? Come, now. Have a little compassion."

And yet I find myself compelled to tell you, Gentle Reader, that as of late, I have ass spasms.

Walk too much, leg gets tired, butt seizes up. If you see me around town stopping short, hands on hips, admiring the ground through clenched jaw, that's what's happening. Gym Teacher threw some Latin name at me and said it's called the pain in the ass muscle.

Her solution: my latest PT advancement, which is walking backwards on the treadmill. I even have a note from her stating that I have been trained to walk backwards on the treadmill and that it is an essential part of my physical therapy, in case someone at the gym gets shirty. Evidently gyms don't like it when you do stuff on their equipment that you're not supposed to. I've yet to unveil my trained backwards walking spasming ass at the gym, but if you're lucky, it will be a non-postworthy event and you'll never see the words ass and spasm together again.

Walk It Off

2007-11-04T11:57:00.001-05:00

The latest in my physical therapy advances: I've been upgraded from the stairclimber to the treadmill at the gym.

However, since my running skills are, shall we say, less than terrific, my job on the treadmill is to walk as fast as I can, right at that edge where you almost need to break into a run, but rather than lengthening the stride, I have to take faster steps. Supposedly this will build the hip flexor response for when I am ready to run again. All I know is, I'm the goofball going walkwalkwalkwalkwalk while other people run beside me. It feels slightly out of control like I might trip and land on my chin. Just when I was regaining a little dignity...

You Should Be Dancing

2007-11-03T15:54:00.000-04:00

Hip's been such a trooper, I wanted to surprise her with a fun night out, so without telling her in advance where we were going, I took her salsa dancing.

Plucky little hip totally stood up to the one hour lesson, followed by the dance club infested with slick-haired men, Latin and other, all waiting to pounce on unsuspecting newbies and wrap themselves around us. Mine was named Dante. He liked to put his hand on my waist, among other places. There was so little room on the dance floor that I pretty much just hopped in place, counting 1 2 3, 5 6 7 in my head. (That's my insider nod to all you salsafies out there).

The best was the place afterwards, which was like an underground salsa version of the scene in Dirty Dancing where Jennifer Grey goes to the staff dance party and tries to dirty dance with Patrick Swayze (and I can quote you that scene - indeed, the entire film - word-for-word. The screenwriter used to be my boss). Everyone was just there to dance, and dance incredibly well. I definitely couldn't do what they were doing, and I definitely wanted to. The great thing was I couldn't do it because I didn't know what I was doing, not because of any physical impairments.

And I was definitely limping this morning, and my feet had some serious blisters, but it rocked. I'm totally going again.

Save the Date

2007-10-22T18:40:00.000-04:00

Party time, people.

Extraction surgery: April 24th, 2008. A year to the day.

Apparently only one night in the hospital. Although I am semi-skeptical, since last time I was told 2-3 days, and was there for 5. Details, details.

Better Days

2007-10-21T13:26:00.000-04:00

I told Gym Teacher that I had stopped using the cane. It felt like telling my mom I wasn't a virgin anymore. However unlike my mom in that moment, Gym Teacher pumped her fist in the air several times. And I thought I was going to get in trouble. She said sometimes people find it's too much and they go back to using it.

There have definitely been days when I felt like I needed to pick up the cane again, days when I'm strolling around the park with my friend and her new baby and I'm the one that needs to stop and rest every 10 minutes. Then there are the other days, when nothing hurts, walking's a breeze, one leg doesn't feel shorter and weaker than the other. In other words, not that different from my pre-surgery, what-will-today-bring life. I'm hoping the better days will begin to dramatically outnumber the crap days. Mostly, I'm trying not to get depressed about having to go through this whole thing again in April when the hardware is removed. I try to console myself with the truth that it will be much less of a production, both because I've done it once already, and because it's literally less of a production to take it out than to put it in (4 weeks on crutches/50% weight bearing, as opposed to 6 weeks/no weight bearing).

People say, "You're so strong/ You're so disciplined/ You're so motivated, you'll do fine" when I start talking about the second surgery. But there's really nothing uplifting to say about it. The best response came from my friend who looked at me silently for a few seconds, and then started laughing really, really hard. As a fellow inhabitant of a body that's breaking down far too young, she gets it. I don't mean to sound ungrateful for all the concern and support that I'm getting - quite the opposite, I'm sure I wouldn't have made it this far without all of you, and please don't go anywhere. It's just nice to have someone to revel with in the delightful ass-kicking we're both receiving.

How Soon They Forget

2007-10-13T00:16:00.001-04:00

I hope you're not feeling rejected, Gentle Reader, simply because I haven't posted in over 2 weeks. (ahem)

After trying to figure out if I was remembering to remember the cane or forgetting to forget it, I finally said screw it and stopped using it completely 3 days ago. And honestly, I don't even think about it. Hip is a little stiff when I first get up in the morning or when I've been sitting for a while, but after a step or two everything starts moving as it should. I was feeling that using the cane was preventing me from using my leg enough to finally get that last 7% strength and mobility that I needed and that if I just stopped relying on it, the hip would have to man up. And man up it has.

[For legal reasons I must state here that I am not a doctor and as such cannot condone or prescribe my cane choice to any other post-operative recuperee.]

[Actually that's not true there's no legal anything I can write whatever I want. But everyone's responsible for themselves here.]

So even though it gets tired occasionally, overall I feel good about my choice. I realized I was waiting for my physical therapist to tell me when I could stop using it, as if she's the boss of me or something. Although she kind of is the boss of me... and if I'm totally honest, when I go in next, I'll probably take the cane because I don't want her to be mad... I'm going to have to work with her again after the next surgery so no reason to piss her off yet... she might make me do jumping jacks again.

The Big Question

2007-09-27T17:09:00.000-04:00

It's practically October, and I saw my first leaves falling from trees today, so I bit the bullet and asked Gym Teacher if she had an idea of when I would be able to get rid of the cane. She stared at me silently, which used to make me nervous, but which I now know is just her way of thinking out loud. "When you consistently forget it places," she said finally. But I'm consistently making myself remember to take it places, so I'm not sure how that works. Given a choice I would consistently forget it on purpose, all the time, at home. After a bit of discussion she said that the outer hip is not yet strong enough, and the hip extension in the front isn't great enough to allow me not to lurch. It's not a big lurch, but she wants me as close to perfect as possible.

Sometimes I just get tired of being in a body that doesn't work as well as it could/should/would. I know it's all a sliding scale, and I should be grateful that it's not worse, but when I see people bounding around, I come up against what my teacher calls "The Unanswerable Why". And every time I come up against it and really see that there is no answer, if I'm lucky, I find solace in the silence. If not, I just end up whiny and irritable. Working my way out of whiny and irritable as we speak.

Phony Cane

2007-09-21T15:59:00.001-04:00

(Which could easily be the name of one of Prince's all-girl bands from the 80s)

I was on a crowded rush hour subway train a few days ago and a man who saw I had a cane got up and offered me his seat. I tried to refuse, telling him I was fine, but he insisted until I accepted. I felt like a big old phony. I can stand up no problem, really. But I'm still finding myself both looking for the person who's going to give me their seat, or mentally justifying why I'm sitting down while the other person, equally deserving of a seat, is standing ("but I have a cane!"). The occasional times when I don't have the cane with me on the train and I sit down, I try to make a facial expression that reads "ordinarily I have a cane which is why I am sitting down and you are still standing" but I'm not sure it comes across.

Meanwhile the jumping Jacks et al really kicked the crap out of my ass. Did I just write that sentence? I guess so. I was pretty sore for a significant amount of time afterwards. Gym teacher is extraordinarily cautious, so I suppose it wasn't beyond my capabilities, but still...

Leapin' Lizards

2007-09-18T14:25:00.000-04:00

I was jumping around like a maniac in gym class yesterday. It was the gymmiest gym class I've had in a while - there were jumping Jacks, and side steppy jumps down the line and back, and jump straight up and down which was the hardest, strangely, and the 'pony prance' which I will not demonstrate you just have to use your imagination.

It was not discussed, but I get the feeling that while jumping may be a small step for the hip, it is in fact a giant leap from the cane.

Uh

2007-09-13T22:07:00.001-04:00

Recognizing that I haven't posted in over a week, and feeling a little guilty about it, and yet scraping the bottom of the barrel to come up with something relevant.

How about: I can now sleep on my surgery side again! I told Gym Teacher that today and she raised her eyebrow, which is her way of getting excited, and said "That's a huge milestone." Hooray! Huge milestone! Haven't had a huge milestone since the reappearance of my knee after surgery!

Actually, it is truly a gift not to be one-sided anymore. It really sucked, especially since it's the side I like to sleep on.

And: I keep forgetting my cane places, which apparently is also a sign that it's getting ditchable. I left it in the bank last weekend and was well down the street before I had to turn back. One time I walked out after teaching and left it in the gym.

So, good news. I am chugging along. Also apparently I am in the middle of my second 8 week cycle at the end of which great things will happen, as with the first 8 week cycle. Perhaps my life has now been tuned to cycle through 8 weeks at a time?

Old Paradigm, New Hip

2007-09-02T23:35:00.001-04:00

My brother was in town visiting this weekend and we were walking around the city after brunch Saturday when he said he had to go back to his old apartment. "It's too far for me to walk," I replied without thinking, and then realized, actually, no it's not. Not any more. It used to be, when the cartilage wasn't lined up and my socket was wearing itself down with each step, but now, pain-free, I can walk miles at a time. It's so liberating and at the same time I have to consciously remind myself that I've been liberated. I'm actually considering going snowboarding in March (don't freak out mom) although I will be calling Dr. Buly for his opinion on whether the metal/bone combo would hold up or if I should actually wait until this whole process is done.

And my skinniest pants fit. Triumph!

Look Ma, No Hands

2007-08-29T10:24:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I went caneless to the grocery store and carried two bags of groceries 6 blocks home.

A man said as I passed, "That's a good workout."

"You have no idea," I replied in my head.

Then on the way to gym class running late and charging down the street I had a moment where I felt like I could break into a run.

I haven't wanted to break into a run since 2002.

At gym class as I was waiting for gym teacher I remembered how on my first day there I couldn't walk without lurching violently.

I remembered how a few weeks later when she asked, "How are you doing?" I burst into frustrated, angry tears.

Yes, it's been tough at times.

Equally yes, it's entirely worth it.

Close Encounters of the Insurance Kind, Part 17,083

2007-08-23T16:06:00.000-04:00

All of my interactions with my insurance company have involved the following steps:

1. Ask them to pay something.
2. Hold breath.
3. Let breath go because 2 months have passed.
4. Procrastinate and avoid calling to hear potential bad news.
5. Finally suck it up and call to find out that something just got approved yesterday.
6. Repeat with next item (wheelchair, physical therapy, X-rays etc)

I was on step 4 of two items simultaneously (PT and anaesthesia) when I received an updated bill from Dr. Buly's office. Insurance had already paid for 70% of his bill and I was sort of hoping we could all look the other way about the rest... right? What's a few thousand dollars between friends... except a few thousand dollars...

The good news is that he has reduced the rest of his fee, the medium news is there's still a bit to pay.

Somehow this motivated me to find out exactly how much of everything else I still need to pay for, dammit... and got all ready to battle with whomever picked up the phone at the insurance company as to why they were only covering 1/3 of the anaesthesia when the plan clearly states 100%, etc... and got the nicest man on the phone who said the full anaesthesia was paid for, and extra PT was approved, and hooray!

Sometimes, occasionally, the system works. I know I'm supposed to rant and rave about how shitty health insurance is in this country, and believe me I'm not a fan, but I think I got lulled into happy-land by the words "It's all been approved."

Drop It Like It's Hot

2007-08-22T09:28:00.000-04:00

In an ongoing attempt to remain too big for my (rain) boots, I decided yesterday that I was just going to walk around without my cane. Earlier that day I walked the 7 blocks to the bank (no problem), and 7 blocks back home, caneless. Child's play. What was I goofing around with a cane for? I clearly didn't need it anymore. All my Tuesday travel was within walking distance of my house, I reasoned, and since I'd been taking short neighborhood trips without the cane, surely I could just extend the perimeter of what I called 'neighborhood'. Of course, using that logic, I could walk to my brother's house in L.A. without my cane.

So around the beginning of rush hour time I started walking to the office where I teach a class, and suddenly remembered why I needed the cane. There was jostling, and bumping, and tourists looking up, and people trying to get home, and no-one knew that I wasn't just a regular walking person. "Careful!" I wanted to yell, "I'm new at this!" I saw a man with a cane coming the other way and watched with envy as the sea of people parted around him.

But the real indication came when I started limping. I tried to turn it into a cool gangsta walk, but since I am neither cool nor a gangsta it just looked like a white girl lurching down the street.

So it is with a sigh of resignation that I pick up the cane again. Not ready yet.

Something to Consider

2007-08-16T11:35:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's not entirely necessary to pull down your pants in the locker room of the fancy gym where you just taught yoga class to show a student who may need labral repair the arthroscopy scar. Just maybe. Maybe her expression/repetition of the phrase "really it's ok I don't need to see it" should give cause for pause.

Separately, new exciting mini-project in the works for all you Dysplastics out there who like I was are tearing your hair out trying to find any information online about HD that doesn't refer to German Shepherds. Brilliant Lauren's idea. Semi-jealous I didn't think of it first, but excited to tag along and help where I can. All will be revealed soonish.

Cane 3: In 3-D

2007-08-12T11:53:00.000-04:00

4 weeks to the day of my last attempted outing on a Saturday night sans cane, I tried it again last night. Pleased to report that this time, I was fine. No pain, no cane (that's not even funny but I can't erase it). I'm not ditching it completely yet, but it felt really good not to be the girl at the party whose geriatric grey cane doesn't match her cute outfit. So if you're keeping score, that's 18 weeks post-op. Not too shabby.

Also this is my 100th post, which is pretty wild. From a humble birth as an attempt to record what surgery and recovery was like, Paper or Dysplastic has blossomed through a difficult adolescence into graceful young womanhood. Thank you for all your comments and feedback and support. Since I have another surgery looming (oh yes, we get to take the metal out next year) I'm going to keep going. I'm sure there will be many more surprises in store.

America's Next Top Dysplastic

2007-08-09T17:17:00.000-04:00

Today for the first time since surgery, I am wearing jeans.
My legs look the same as each other.
I think that's enough.

Direct Quote

2007-08-08T16:43:00.001-04:00

from Gym Teacher:

"You may have had a funny bone, but your muscles are fantastic."

Aw, yeah.

Clickstep

2007-08-07T15:50:00.001-04:00

Feeling strong, feeling good, teaching, not in pain, no muscles spasming (although I have a new physical therapist working with Gym Teacher whose sole job is to stretch me; I enjoy the effort-free aspect of it, but not so much the crap-that-hurts aspect. I think he's Dutch). But a new/old development - I'm clicking again. It started Saturday, I'm not sure why, and it's not all the time, but it's audible. I used to click like this, as well as the infamous "clunk" that dysplastics are all too familiar with - but it doesn't hurt or feel like anything. Mostly it just makes me self conscious, like I'm some kind of bionic robot lady with metal parts who clicks when she walks. (Wait a minute...)

In other news, insurance finally paid the surgery bill. There are still some bits and pieces unresolved (for some reason, they only want to cover 1/3 of the anaesthesia bill from surgery. Does that mean I should have been 2/3 awake? Although apparently I was) but this was the biggest chunk, and a large sigh of relief was released by all. Meaning me and probably my mom.

Wheelchair vs. Crutches vs. Cane

2007-08-03T14:25:00.000-04:00

Pre-experience, if you had asked me which of the three would elicit the greatest sympathy from passers by, the most compassion, the strongest urge to get out of the way/give you my seat/help you with that from my fellow New Yorkers, I would have thought wheelchair, then crutches, then cane, in descending order. Turns out I was completely ass-backwards wrong.

The wheelchair, I think, falls in the 'I don't want to even think about how much is wrong with this person and I need to avert my eyes' category: our mortality has its limits, and a person in a wheelchair brings that a little too sharply into relief.

Crutches endeared me even less to those I shared the street with. They suggest skiing accident, or spelunking misadventure, which in turn implicates me as a spoiled rich girl with enough money/time to fritter away on such impracticalities that I probably deserved to get hurt. (I'm just saying.)

The cane, however. The cane has brought out the Florence Nightingale in more people than I ever would have expected. It says I'm clearly not dying, at least not yet, and I'm no longer spoiled rich girl, but somehow now plucky survivor, likely with some degenerative disease (not wrong there) but still getting along on all that pluck (such a good word I wanted to use it again) which is a quality New Yorkers adore, so let me give you my subway seat/carry your groceries/seat you for your dinner reservation before your entire party is here, and so on.

It's proven invaluable in many situations, and even more so if I protest that I'm really fine to stand up, etc (so plucky in the face of such obvious tragedy!) which I usually am anyway... as much as the cane's lingering presence in my life irritated me at first, I'm now starting to wonder if I should keep it around and perhaps pull it out for special occasions that could use a little help, like dinner reservations on a Friday night. (I'm just saying.)

Full Circle and Around Again

2007-08-01T22:44:00.001-04:00

I just realized that I walked the 2 1/2 (long avenue) blocks from the subway to my apartment in full on New York City dweller take-no-prisoners double-time speed walk. Which I may have done pre-surgery, except that by the time I got to my building I would have been limping. I didn't even realize how fast I was walking until the woman walking behind me passed as I stopped at my building and I saw how fast she was going. And she didn't lap me or anything.

And nothing hurts. At all. I feel totally fine. It's a serious miracle.

Please Use Caution Opening Overhead Bins

2007-08-01T16:08:00.000-04:00

As some contents may have shifted during flight. Namely, the fat cells in my right leg, behind the scar. There is a mildly disturbing new formation that has caused a visible (at least to me) cellulite dimple that I now like to absentmindedly put my finger in as I walk down the street. Is it solely the fault of the metal and hence will be gone when contents are reshifted next year? Possibly, although it is also not out of the question that this is the permanent new configuration of my thigh.

Oh vanity, thou art a cruel mistress. Looks like my fashion future is squarely set in to-the-knee-or-below styles. Either that or I go commando Spencer Tunick style and let it all hang out... who's with me? Anyone? Hello?

I Teach Yoga

2007-07-31T09:52:00.001-04:00

It's official: I am, once again, a yoga teacher. Taught my first class last night and it felt so good. The words were still there, even if I had to reach for them a little bit, students showed up for me (thank you!) and I got to do what I so love to do. Even though I still need a cane to walk long distances, I feel like I've come full circle on this whole experience. To everyone who took care of me along the way, from my nothing-less-than-heroic mom to the guy who was so good at drawing blood that he didn't hurt me, thank you.

And the Winner Is...

2007-07-30T16:32:00.000-04:00

For Most Random Comment By A Stranger (In A Comedy):

Setting: The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (SO L.A.!!)

Sarah and Marla are trying to wrangle some chairs to sit outside with their blended coffee drinks. A seemingly drunk man is giving them a hard time about the chair next to him. Our Hero, sitting nearby, comes to their rescue:

HERO: Hey man, give them the chairs. Can't you see she has a... (searches desperately for right word)... problem?

Sarah and Marla, visibly trying not to laugh, take the chair over to their table.

HERO (cont'd): Whaddya got, Lou Gehrig's disease or something?

***
In other travel related news, the TSA was a total non-event. Nobody wanded me anywhere. At Newark the machine didn't even beep when I went through and I think the woman thought I was lying to get into the short lane with the gray haired wheelchair bound people. I waved my card at her but by that point she really didn't care. At LAX the machine went off after I told (just TOLD! Didn't have to PROVE in any way!) the man I had metal in my leg, and he was like, "Alright," and waved me along. And yet my flip flops were threatening enough that they needed to go through the X-ray...

Walking vs. Yoga Badassedness

2007-07-25T21:13:00.000-04:00

Had dinner with my girlfriend, the brilliant and talented Kimberlee Auerbach, whose book you should all run out and buy next week when it comes out;

And we were talking about a fantastic writer she met who had difficulty walking and needed to use a cane, and so I was telling her about how I've discovered from this experience how complicated it is to walk, and how we all take it so totally for granted because we've been doing it forever, but it's much more involved than, for example, holding a pose in yoga class. Walking involves so many different muscles working in concert to create movement, smoothly and efficiently. At this point, 13 weeks post-op, I can do some serious yoga moves, pretty much everything I could do pre-surgery (which gives me no end of pleasure, to walk into class with a cane, eliciting sympathetic sideways glances from other students, and then bust out a little parivrtta surya yantrasana), but without the cane, I walk like a drunk three year-old. It's been striking me ironic that I can do the stuff that looks fancy and complicated, and yet I can't really walk.

Dr. Buly said Monday something about it taking 6 months for the muscles to fully come back; I wasn't paying much attention because it didn't sound like something I wanted to hear, like when he told me I shouldn't be practicing yoga yet when I started weight bearing, and I ignored him, because it was like telling me after 7 weeks of holding my breath that I needed to keep holding my breath... yeah, not so much.

Secret Surprise

2007-07-24T10:31:00.001-04:00

Which was motivated by the fact that I never saw an image of what a femoral osteotomy looked like before I had one, and plus I know you're really dying to see what it looks like inside my leg:

Wherein you can totally see where the bone was cut through and how the head of the femur was rotated into the socket, and how I am so totally bionic;

And:

Which for some reason reminds me of one of those folders you keep your homework in.

But if you look at the first picture again you can see how the area where the bone was cut is getting all fuzzy, which means the bone is reknitting itself back together. Yay, bone!

13 Week Dr. Visit Update

2007-07-23T20:10:00.000-04:00

Had a good meeting with Dr. Buly this morning. Who I still LOVE. I was in the waiting room and could hear him in the back asking a patient, "Does it hurt when you weight bear?" and just the sound of his voice made me feel so blessed that he was my surgeon. The man's amazing.

Everything's looking good, he's pleased with my progress, etc. I have to keep going to physical therapy until I can walk without the cane. I won't see him again until about a month or so before I have surgery again to take the metal out, which would be Marchish next year.

And I got this for my upcoming airport encounter/potential debacle:

And then I had an amazing session with David Murphy, who does transformative structural integration in New York. Like rolfing but you don't cry in agony, which is a bonus. He's great, I highly recommend him.

And the secret surprise I totally have lined up, just can't do it til tomorrow. You'll see.

Bad Hip, Good Feet

2007-07-22T00:53:00.000-04:00

So at least I didn't totally lose out in the structural department: the other day at gym class, Gym Teacher had me take off my sneakers to see how I walked barefoot. As I peeled a sweaty sock from my toes she said, "You have GREAT FEET!" Actually, I'm interpreting; she doesn't get very emotional so it sounded more like "you have. great feet." I asked her why but she didn't elaborate, not being an elaborate person (don't you love how words can be spelled the same and pronounced differently to be a verb or an adjective? So glad I was never an ESL) but I am taking some pride in having great feet, even if the hips don't match...

Dr. Buly Monday, and perhaps a special secret surprise for you... if I can get hold of what I want to get hold of... it's a doozy.

Note to self, don't forget to get copy of "It's not a bomb, it's a metal plate" letter from Dr's office for next Thursday's airplane ride.

Cane Part 2

2007-07-18T00:06:00.000-04:00

I brought up the "when do I get to ditch the cane" question to Gym Teacher, who said that rebuilding strength in a muscle is like growing a plant from a seed: you water it and water it and water it, and it seems like nothing is growing, but then one day a plant appears. What she doesn't know is that I am a notorious plant-killer.

Seriously though, she meant there's a period where it feels like nothing is happening, which is exactly what I'm in the middle of right now, but usually after 8 weeks of PT and rehabbing, something big happens. Which would be the first week in August. Fingers crossed. There's a strong possibility that I'm going to be teaching with a cane for a little while, but ain't nuthin I can do. Mama needs to pay the mortgage.

Cane You Dig It?

2007-07-15T15:41:00.000-04:00

Saturday early evening, I'm lying on the couch in my pjs watching My Super Ex-Girlfriend and eating baby carrots with hummus for dinner. Phone rings and my girlfriend convinces me that I need to come out to dinner with a group she's putting together last minute. I hem and haw for a few minutes - I'm pretty comfortable on the couch, but it sounds like fun - and finally decide to go. I spring into action, put on a dress and makeup and heels and feel like - yeah! I rock! I rock so much that I bet I don't even need a cane!

I'm standing on my corner waiting for their cab to come down Ninth Avenue and pick me up, and suddenly I hear "WOW." I turn and look at the man standing next to me who is shaking his head in approval. "Oh my god," I gush, "you have no idea how much that means to me I had surgery and this is my first night out without a cane and thank you so much," meanwhile his face says this is way more information than he was looking for, but I don't care. I feel great.

We go out to dinner and have a great time, but afterwards walking to the subway I'm realizing that I kind of overextended myself in the name of not being the girl with the cane on Saturday night. It was good to get out and feel regular, but by the time I get home my leg is really sore. I don't think I did any damage but I'm definitely not yet ready to go caneless. 2 different people today asked me how long I needed the cane for and it's so strange not to be able to tell anyone anything definite. I have no idea, frankly. But I discovered that walking around my apartment without the cane (5 steps here, 7 steps there) is a whole different pickle than NYC on a Saturday night. Note to self: cane is your friend, and friends don't let friends walk gimpy.

The Mystery of the Traveling Aches

2007-07-11T22:20:00.000-04:00

As I rehab and get stronger (although I am sort of plateauing at the moment with the cane. Every morning, instead of a miraculous Tiny Tim moment where I wake up, throw back the covers and exclaim, "God bless us, every one!", I usually just find an odd cane blister developing on the inside of my index finger) different places are achy in different ways at different times, with no particular rhyme or reason that I can figure out. Mostly it's in the evening when the day's exertions are done and I recline on the couch and watch another movie (oh how I look forward to the time when an honest day's work is not so tiring that it can be followed by an honest evening's debauchment) and something starts pinging in my leg. Not always in the most obvious places either. I've had interesting encounters with the Back of Knee Cramp, as well as the more obvious Front of Hip Ache, Inner Thigh Throb (hey now) and Lower Back Twinge, and an odd day or two when Arch of Foot was Making Itself Known in a Unusual Manner. Sometimes Scar is Randomly Pinchy; other times Inside of Knee Heats Up, Oddly.

Gym Teacher says that traveling aches are normal and can be treated with Advil. I think perhaps she was not my gym teacher, but instead my school nurse, who believed that everything could be treated with 2 Paracetamol (I grew up in England. You can look it up later). She says as long as nothing becomes a new Lingering Pain That Doth Not Leave, it's N.B.D. Easy for her to say. I'm just adding this post to the list of evidence that points to my rapid descent into Crazy Hot Grandma Land. "Exhibit F, your honor: displays unappetizing penchant for discussing physical ailments."

Is Normal A Post?

2007-07-09T00:19:00.001-04:00

I have this idea that something has to HAPPEN for me to post about my rehabbing. Big transitions like from the crutches to the cane, or funny stuff like driving, or big physical breakthroughs like going back to yoga class (although I have started walking around the apartment without the cane and discovered I can do short distances without lurching too badly, if I really concentrate, and if I haven't been sitting for a long time or just woken up or am not tired). See what I mean? That's kind of a non-event.

But I realized feeling normal is an event when the past 11 weeks have been anything but normal and when each day has brought unseen, never-before encountered challenges to navigate. Today I felt normal all day. Leg didn't winge. Took class and could pretty much do everything and felt strong and good. Had coffee. Came home. Not exhausted or creaky. I am officially doing well and feeling almost normal again. Which is really something worth posting about.

10 Week Scar Update

2007-07-04T12:33:00.000-04:00

Long overdue and much anticipated by... my mom? Scar update autophotographic self-portrait:

Lookin' gooood, Mr. Kotter...
Seriously though see how skinny it is towards the right? My scar kicks ass.

The Butt is Back

2007-07-03T14:26:00.000-04:00

I had assumed it was atrophy from misuse, and my natural proclivity towards shyness and privacy in this area had prevented me from discussing my buttocks until now (Ahem. Yes. Ha). But I woke up this morning and discovered that my butt is back!

Back up. Explain.
Post surgery, the right side (shall we say cheek?), um, deflated?

Back up. Explain.
I have (usually) something of a booty. Let's just say God was generous in this department. And then after the surgery, the surgeried side became visibly flatter, and I thought it was just from not weight bearing. But my gym teacher, who also noticed the Return of the "B" (not that she's into my butt or anything) told me that often after surgery, muscles in the area just sort of deflate on their own. "They freak out and run away like my sacrum?" I asked, which prompted more where-the-back-meets-the-legs investigation from my gym teacher. "Yes," she replied. "But then once the trauma is over the muscles come right back."

Oh my god, Becky.

I don't think you're ready for this jelly.

P.S. Be the first to name all 4 recording artists referenced in this post in order and win... respek.

Blame it on Brooklyn*

2007-06-30T20:24:00.001-04:00

Went upstate to Ananda Ashram for a day's teaching with my guru. Carpooled with a bunch of lovely students and teachers, one of whom was going to drive (not to name names but her name is Eve) but when we got to the car rental place we discovered that because she calls Brooklyn home, there would be an extra $50 charge for her to rent the car. Apparently people in Brooklyn like to steal cars a little too much. Never mind that we weren't going anywhere near Brooklyn...

The obvious solution was arrived at, which was that the gimpster would drive the car (Mom, try not to hyperventilate). So add that to the list of things I can do at week 9-10! It was completely fine although totally hilarious to me that in a car full of women, the one with the cane was driving... leg got a little crampy in the traffic back into the city but a wonderful day out of the concrete jungle was had by all.

*title written by Eve, the Brooklynite who got us into this fine mess to begin with...

Have Had

2007-06-29T14:10:00.000-04:00

When replying to the question "What happened to you?", two answers come to mind: "I HAVE hip dysplasia" and "I HAD hip dysplasia." I stumble through the answer because I don't know which to say. Do I still have it? Is it gone now I've been 'fixed'? Strictly technically speaking, the socket itself is still shallow, so although now I have much better coverage of the head of the femur into said shallow socket, it ain't perfect.

And so there's that word, that doggedly follows me around, just biding its time until I feel tired, or low, or depleted in some way, to whisper in my ear: "You'll be lopsided for the rest of your life. Maybe not a lot, but enough."

And to it I now reply: "Yeah? Well, can you do this?"

"Cos I did it today. Both sides."

(photo credit Swaha Yoga)

"Permission Requested To Use A Cane, Sir!"

2007-06-28T12:27:00.000-04:00

"Permission granted, private. Now listen: don't walk down Broadway at 5.30 with your cane, ok? Just practice around your block and see how it goes. And stop leaning away from the leg, you need to really put your weight on it. Let me put my hands on your tushie again and see that you're putting weight on it. Ahh, yes. Very good. Now do a little dance. What? Ehem, I mean, good luck, private, and remember: now you know, and knowing is half the battle."

Crazy Hot Grandma With A Broom

2007-06-27T22:06:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday I was crutching through Central Park and a man on a bench said as I passed, "I like you. You're hot."

And then a few days ago another guy said to me as I was crutching down Broadway, "Even with a limp, you're sexy."

Now, granted, they were both homeless, and the second guy was brown paper baggin' it, but hey. We established a while ago, I think, that we take it where we can get it. We are not above being appreciated by drunk homeless men. Yet.

Said appreciation of being appreciated by drunk men, coupled with today's turn of events, makes me concerned that I have a dubious future ahead of me as the crazy mean old grandma who chases the neighborhood kids with a broom and has too many cats. Perhaps it was just that it was very hot today, but I suddenly decided it was time to start telling people off in a loud voice. How I know it was a loud voice is that I could hear myself over my ipod. When a woman tried to push onto the subway before I was able to get off (and in my defense, I would like to say, I have a crutch) I said in a loud voice to the air in front of me, "Let the passengers off first!"

Oy.

And then walking home, trying to negotiate a large tourist group crossing the street who were staring upwards, I said, again very loudly, and again to the air straight in front of me, "Look in the direction you are walking!"

I can't believe I'm admitting this. It's very embarrassing. I'm supposed to be a yoga teacher and, you know, one with the universe, and so on. Not crazy mean (hot) old grandma with a broom.

At least I'm aware that my behavior was not, shall we say, optimal? (She says in a small voice)

There was a woman walking down the subway stairs with two crutches and my heart went out to her. We talked a little bit and I told her she'd be onto one crutch soon. She had a lot more grace than I did today.

To quote my teacher - the journey back to the center is that much sweeter once you've been to the periphery. I think we now all know what the periphery looks like...

Puppetji.com

2007-06-25T13:08:00.001-04:00

Puppetji was listening in and has something to say to the whiny monkey:

I've Fallen

2007-06-25T09:53:00.000-04:00

And I can't get up.

This period of rehabilitation has been, and continues to be in many ways, more challenging than when I was on 2 crutches. At least then I could be an invalid; I was convalescing; not much was expected of me. Sitting upright got me a standing o.

Now I'm working my body and trying to unknot the tight places and strengthen the weak places and people, not to be a whiny monkey, but it hurts. I've never been a huge pill popper - before surgery when I was told to just take Advil every day for the pain I said no thank you, I'd like to keep my stomach lining please. But at night my leg cramps up - my gym teacher told me that the muscles are spasming because they're not used to being used - and I find myself getting out of bed and limping into the bathroom and tossing back a couple of 'vils. I was so delighted to stop taking the Vicodin, and I know it's like comparing apples to oranges, but it's kind of a bummer to have to medicate myself just so I can fall asleep. This too shall pass, I know, I know. Whiny whiny.

In other whiny monkey news, I think I'm going out to L.A. to visit my brother and his fiance sometime next month, which I'm totally excited about. I have to get a letter from Dr. Buly's office to the effect that no, Mr. TSA person, this is not a bomb in my leg, it's just a metal plate, please let me on the plane. That encounter's going to make for an awesome post, I have a feeling.

From Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet

2007-06-22T15:14:00.000-04:00

And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain.

And he said:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder
at the daily miracles of your life, your pain
would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your
heart, even as you have always accepted
the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity
through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the
physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink
his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided
by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.

Anatomy 101

2007-06-22T14:14:00.001-04:00

American Heritage Stedman's Medical Dictionary
syn·o·vec·to·my (sn-vkt-m)
n.

Excision of part or all of the synovial membrane of a joint. Also called villusectomy.

Don't forget to study over the weekend. Finals next week.

I Did

2007-06-20T23:57:00.001-04:00

A Headstand.

Today.

La la la.

Technical Difficulties Please Stand By

2007-06-20T10:07:00.001-04:00

For all you nerds out there, or if you're just wondering what all this fuss has been about, here's what I had done (according to Dr. Buly's bill):

Arthroscopy of Hip with Synovectomy. (that's the two little incisions. I don't know what synovectomy means. Labrum repair? Perhaps our surgeon friend can enlighten us)

Incision/Fixation of Femur. This is the one that really makes me laugh. It sounds so simple. "Yeah, so I'm just going to make an incision and fix your femur, that ok with you?" Nothing about sawing through my leg bone and removing a slice of it and sticking a metal plate in my thigh and pins into the bone. Maybe that's why I agreed to do this, I didn't know what I was getting into.

No of course that's not true. I had as educated a guess as I could as to what I was getting into, and daily life had become unbearably painful.

Lately as I feel better and stronger I have strange urges to claw through my leg and rip the plate out. Obviously I can't really do that but the scar itches a lot now and I daydream as I absentmindedly scratch it that I could just keep scratching away a little at a time like in the Shawshank Redemption and eventually reach freedom. Or metal. A friend of mine said recently that it's important to have things to look forward to. I'm already looking forward to a year from now when I can get it taken out. I'm not even bothered about having to deal with the raised toilet seat again.

This post is getting weird. I just really miss lying on my right side. It's how I used to sleep. And in yoga class at the end it's the side you roll over onto, but I can't, so now I roll left when everyone else is rolling right and I end up looking like I want to make out with the person next to me.

Someone's having a little poopy pity party. Bear with me people.

Grab Your Partner By The Hand

2007-06-19T13:30:00.000-04:00

Yoga. Is. Kicking. My. Butt.

It's funny, we'll be working on an asana in class and each time, it's a little dance. Do we like each other? Is there chemistry? Will my leg hold, or do I need to sit this one out on the bleachers? How many blocks can a girl put under her hands before she's pretty much just standing upright? I shimmy in, and the asana either dances with me (like my 2 second crow pose today) or it says, "Babe I'm not feelin' it. I'm going to a bar with my friends. Maybe later? Gimme your number, I'll call you," (like handstand). And when something is above and beyond what I can handle right now the amazing and talented Zhenja LaRosa will come over and give me something different to do, because nobody puts Baby in the corner.

In other news I got a cane. It is not cool and does not have a skull or a claw or both, sadly. It is grey plastic and metal and geriatric. I'm only supposed to use it around the apartment and still use the crutch outside. But it is a sign that my leg is getting stronger.

It's been a Houses of the Holy kind of week. Somehow it makes me feel less gimpy walking around NYC still on a crutch when Robert Plant is wailing in my head.

Oh Oh Oh - and the most biggest dealest news of all that I keep forgetting to write - guess who was in New York Magazine's Top Doctors issue? Dr. Buly, natch. The man. Who just sent me his bill yesterday. Yikes. Do you think the insurance company will be impressed enough to pay for it?

YOGA!!

2007-06-18T21:19:00.000-04:00

Today for the first time in 2 months I was in a yoga class. I'm taking the Anusara immersions and the first one started today. It was so incredible to be there I didn't even care that much that I wasn't able to get very far into most poses. My right leg is still very weak and couldn't handle going up into a high lunge (hands off the floor) for example. And Warrior 1 - well, not that fierce. But I was there, and it was fantastic.

I balked at the handstand. It was weird to stand and watch other people and I didn't like feeling like it was a fearful reaction. I know it was probably just sensible until my right leg is stronger and I have more control and won't land funny, but not trying at all was strange.

At the end of class after watching me grunt and groan my friend Eddie said to me, "you need a crutch to walk and you just did that class? You got a lot of guts, I'll tell you that much." I was all, yeah I kick ass!

I'm already so sore...

On the flip side of YOGA!! I realized that my plans for world domination through teaching yoga will have to wait a little longer. I was hoping to come back in July but I have no idea really when I won't need the crutch any more and frankly if I walked into a class and the teacher had a crutch, I would probably walk out pretty quickly.

So, patience. Being able to go to class makes it a whole lot easier. I felt so much gratitude to be there today. What a gift. And lying in savasana I felt high. The focus of the class was about opening to grace, and that whatever we bring, whatever condition we come in, it is enough. To come to a yoga class in my condition and to hear that I am enough was a huge gift of grace for me.

Hips Don't Lie

2007-06-17T15:13:00.001-04:00

Does this metal plate make my butt look big?

Actually today for the first time I am wearing real pants.
That looks wrong. I don't mean to imply that I've been pantless this whole time. That would be weird. What I mean is up til now it's been sweats, and cotton pants, and yoga pants, and workout shorts. Nothing you could wear to the opera.

And this morning when I was getting dressed I thought to myself, "I wonder if this hip could handle some real clothing." I haven't tried the jeans yet, I think that might be too much, but ladies and gentlemen, I am wearing khakis. Like an adult person who can dress herself. It's a proud moment.