Post-post

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

(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

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

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

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

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

Missed you guys!

Amazing

Completely inspiring and worth your 18 minutes:

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

Cleared For Takeoff

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swim

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

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

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

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

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

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.