Hippily Ever After

A WORD IN TIME

I hardly know what to do with myself. I planned for a worst-case scenario of six weeks of down-time, just in case it actually took that long to get sprung. Realistically, I figured 4 weeks was a very reasonable likelihood. I have a jigsaw puzzle started, and a quilted bag ready to sew, and of course, half a dozen knitting projects in various stages. I have a shelf of books to read, and if I get really ambitious I have seven years worth of knitting magazines to cull through. 

Mostly what I’ve done for the last ten days is play Scrabble online with various friends. I drop whatever I’m doing when the alert comes through, and I can get lost for long minutes trying out various unlikely combinations of letters that sometimes turn out to be real words. This has been my connection to the real world. Love it!

Mostly what I’ve done for the last ten days is play Scrabble and sleep. Loads of guilt-free napping. Pop a pain pill, get through PT, and sleep. And play Scrabble. 

It’s been working. My recovery is progressing super fast, and I think I might realistically be driving by the end of next week. Yay! The bigger problem is that I still can’t break the 90 degree rule, so I can’t use most bathrooms without a toilet lift. The one I’m using is plastic, and it’s bulky, but I have a big plastic bag to schlep it in, so I will. Tacky, but functional. I’m getting very bored with myself. But not with Scrabble. 

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES

I sailed through the surgery. I lolled around the hospital and enjoyed being waited on. I came home and felt great. Lots of energy, almost no pain.  Could it really be this easy?

 
Well, no. I felt so good, I immediately started dialing down the drugs. I went too far in that direction, and yesterday….Sunday….took a metaphorical nosedive. Yesterday, I was so sluggish and lethargic, and in too much pain to do my exercises. All I wanted to do was take drugs and sleep. 

 
So I did. It took till noon today to get back to the right amount of pain control. As a result, I had an excellent physical therapy session. I practiced a lot with a cane, and it looks like I should be able to give up the walker entirely by the end of this week. 

The downside of getting enough pain meds into my system is the accompanying need to sleep. But I am accepting that. My only responsibility is to heal and retrain muscles. Eat. Sleep. Heal. 

 

THINGS I SHOULDN'T HAVE BOTHERED WORRYING ABOUT

I hated the idea of injections of Lovenox (a blood thinner) into my tummy. It goes against human nature to willingly inflict pain upon oneself. I thought about whining and complaining to my doctor to convince him that I could just take oral meds. What’s so special about injections instead? On the other hand, if this has the best track record for preventing blood clots, I’m all in favor of that. I reminded myself regularly that lots of people have to inject themselves daily with insulin. When the moment of truth finally arrived, I was very glad I hadn’t whined to the doctor. The injections are simply not an issue. 

I worried about back pain from sleeping on my back. I worried about pain in my other hip. I worried that I would have pain everywhere. But I don’t. I have incision pain, and that’s only if I stretch it out too long between doses of pain meds. 

I worried about being able to get in and out of bed and/or the couch by myself. I pictured that I would have to wake up Lynn several times each night, thus ruining both our sleeping hours. But I was already able to get in and out of bed by myself while I was still in the hospital. And last night I slept a full seven hours.

 
I worried a LOT about dropping my grabber thingie at inopportune moments. And actually, I do drop it quite frequently. But when I do, it’s easier to retrieve than I originally pictured, plus it’s very easy to decide I didn’t really need the item I dropped in the first place. Necessity creates resourcefulness. 

I worried about whether the catheter would be removed before I came out of the anesthesia. Ha ha….they didn’t even use a catheter. It’s such a short surgery, they don’t bother with it.

I worried about the dreaded Teds. A lot of people bitterly complain about wearing the compression stockings all day long. I thought they were supposed to be itchy and very uncomfortable. Well, they aren’t. Not on me anyway. Just one more way to lower the risk of a blood clot…I am on board. 

It’s been so easy so far that I’ve simply stopped worrying about anything. What? Me worry? Never!

KEEPING IT SIMPLE

My next analogy is that being in the hospital for joint replacement is a lot like being on the maternity ward. You aren’t actually sick, and you get to go home with something new and exciting. 

 
The only difficult moment for me was the first time getting up from bed to use the commode. Just sitting up and getting my legs over the side of the bed was daunting. I was a wee bit woozy and the nurses kept telling me to open my eyes. I think they think I blacked out, but I don’t think I did. I do think my blood pressure plummeted significantly. I was ultimately successful in my mission, and three hours later , when I tried again, I had no problem at all. So Tuesday evening and all day Wednesday were just about resting and practicing my restrictions.

 
Today….Thursday….the doctor said I could shower and not worry about getting the incision wet. I can switch to a cane whenever I feel ready. Once I’m using a cane, I can drive. In a week. I’m having a hard time picturing that right now; lateral movement is the most difficult so far. But after a week of PT, it’s a whole different ballgame.

 
Can it really be this simple?

 

FAULTY MEMORIES

I have lots of analogies for describing hip replacement surgery. One is that it’s a lot like my experience flying. In reality, I’m not all that comfortable with the concept of flying in an airliner. Crashes don’t happen often, but Iwhen they do, they are pretty catastrophic. The first time I ever flew, I was 17 years old. Relatives in Los Angeles had invited me to come visit and see the sights. I was very excited by the prospect, but scared of flying as well.

Once I decided to go on this trip, I simply refused to think about plane crashes. If my mind started to go there, I distracted it. I retain this trait to this day….flying….la la la….you don’t frighten me. Once I am on that plane, I am putting myself into the hands and brains of the pilots. I go with their flow.

Tuesday morning was a very similar dynamic. Lynn and I got to the hospital around 9AM. At that point, their protocol takes over, and I became a willing player, going with the flow. Paperwork to go through, and pokes to start an IV, and very important…..an oral dose of oxycontin. I was already so hungry and so dry….the water to take those pills tasted delicious! 

Relaxation became the theme. My surgeon came in to talk to me. We cleared up the confusion about physical therapy and the home health program. I whipped out my cell phone to call both places and get everything set up. With that done, I gave myself up to the hands and brains of my surgeon, the nurses, all the staff. I went with their flow. 
I clearly remember the anesthesiologist coming in at 10:50. He quickly laid out the pros and cons of a spinal vs. a general, and I just as quickly chose a general. A few moments later, two women came in to start moving me to the operating room, but drugs must have already been started because I simply don’t remember a thing after that. I woke up already in my room. Did I come to in the recovery room? I assume I must have, but I don’t remember it. 

CROSSING OVER

T - 8 hours.

 
Well that three months just flew by, didn’t it? Now that I am finally ready to hightail it off to the hospital, it seems like events have fallen into place just the way they were meant to. 

 
I’m calm. That might be because I woke up VERY early this morning, and I am very tired. It would be smart to go to sleep now, before the after-midnight munchies start attacking.

 
I participate in a delightful forum full of hippies and wannabe hippies, called Bonesmart. People refer to “crossing over” and “the other side.” Strictly in relation to before and after surgery, of course. My next post will be from the other side….in the field, so to speak. Please continue to keep me company on this journey. We're just getting to the good part!

 

THE A-LIST

A certain devoted reader is insisting that I publish my ENTIRE to-do list. Okay, but I reserve the right to continue adding to it. The order is not significant….items will get done when they get done. They will ALL be done before Tuesday. Or not. 

Pay April bills. This is already half three-quarters-done. Three cheers for automated payments. DONE

Buy a tall wastebasket with a step-on lid for the kitchen.DONE

Shoes. This one is DONE! A boring but comfy pair of Aerosoles. However, they will remain at the front door for stepping into and out of. Turns out that they leave scuff marks all over my kitchen floor! 

Wind yarn for two specific projects that I will start when I get home from surgery. It wouldn’t be a disaster if this didn’t get done in time, but it’s a simple task to get out of the way. DONE

Set up a card table in my den for working on a jigsaw puzzle. Sounds easy, but first I have to put away other things to make room for the card table. Like….yarn. Lots of yarn. DONE

Laundry.DONE

One more shopping trip at Meijer. DONE

 
Organize kitchen so items in the lower cupboards and drawers are moved to reachable places. DONE

Clean out the linen closet to make space for some of the kitchen items. DONE

Clean out the laundry room to make space for some of the linen closet items. DONE

Send an email to all my kids with all pertinent information….phone numbers, timelines, etc. DONE

There you go, Devoted Reader. You happy now?

(PS...I included the completed items because it is SOOOO satisfying to put in the strike-thru lines.)

(Updated: I might have added a few things to this list as I went along. And they are DONE too. Wish I could always harness this much focus to get things done!) 

MY PEOPLE WILL CONTACT YOUR PEOPLE

I like the world best when the right hand and the left hand talk to each other. I do not love ambiguity. Therefore, I had a frustrating half hour today with no resolution yet.

Back in December, I went to an information session given by my surgeon in which he discussed many things related to hip replacement surgery. One of the things he said very clearly was that patients should expect to be in the hospital only two nights. Have surgery on a Tuesday…go home on Thursday. 

Back in December when I scheduled an appointment to discuss hip replacement, he reiterated this statement. I should plan on two nights in the hospital. 

Back in December when I scheduled this surgery, my doctor’s office gave me a vivid blue folder with a lot of pertinent documents inside it. One of those documents was a prescription for physical therapy. It states clearly that I should schedule my first appointment for Friday, April 1st. I am good at following directions….I did exactly that.

 
Fast forward to Friday March 25th. I receive a phone call from a home health care agency. My doctor has given them my information and she is calling to discuss my therapy when I get home from the hospital. She explains that when I get home on Friday, a nurse will contact me shortly after, and set up a time to visit that day. I will also see a physical therapist on Friday as well. I will have a nurse, a physical therapist, and an occupational therapist seeing me for the next five days, as part of an intensive “bridge program.” 

I explain that I am happy to know I will have lots of follow-up care, but…uh….what should I do about the appointment I have already scheduled? And by the way, I’m supposed to be discharged on Thursday. 

I spend the next half hour talking to my PT people, and talking to my doctor’s office people….none of whom knew anything about this “bridge program” or about a three night stay instead of two. 

Hmm.

This should all be resolved by Monday. I will show up at the hospital on Tuesday morning regardless of the outcome. I really do feel relieved that I will receive a lot of help at home. I don’t really care if I am in the hospital for two nights or three.  I don’t care where my physical therapy comes from, as long as it comes from somewhere. 

I just really wish all these nice people would talk to each other. 

GETTING REAL

Down to the wire! Outwardly, I wait patiently. Inwardly, I am a simmering cauldron of thoughts all focused on what will come after. My to-do list still exists, but I flit from item to item; partially completing some of the items, totally ignoring others….trusting that anything truly important somehow gets done. 

Shoes…I really need shoes. I’m having shoe issues!

Laundry…it would be a good idea to get it out of the way.

Groceries….yeah, one more trip to Meijer still needed.

Yarn….wind it now, dummy!

 Cupboards and drawers….still have to tackle the kitchen. 

Paperwork….on track, but not quite finished.

Sinus infection status: antibiotic relieved the headache within hours on Wednesday, and mostly I feel fine. Still a ton of drainage at night which makes sleeping difficult. Why is there a local shortage of Nyquil-D? I was finally able to get a generic store brand equivalent at Walgreens, but it just doesn’t work as well. I seriously believe in the healing power of Nyquil. It might have something to do with the alcohol content, and maybe I should just slug down a jigger of whiskey and call it good. 

A friend compliments me in the comments about being brave and optimistic. Of course, no one wants to read a lot of whining, so I have to put a good face on everything. But it isn’t hard to do so. I’ve said before that I feel incredibly lucky that I have a problem that is so readily fixable. I have a huge number of friends who have faced cancer surgeries. Being upbeat in the face of an operation that might end in catastrophic news…that’s real bravery. Being optimistic while puking during chemo….that’s real bravery. Joint replacement surgery….well, all surgery is somewhat daunting….but statistics are on my side for an uneventful procedure and a routine recovery with a great outcome at the end. I reserve the right to grumble and complain for a little while after surgery, but really…unless something goes terribly wrong….my discomfort will be minor in the giant scheme of things.

Perspective is so important.

 

IT'S ALARMING HOW CHARMING I DON'T FEEL!

I’ve had a cold for the last three days, accompanied by a disproportionate amount of fatique. The tiredness feels more like flu-like, but I have no other flu symptoms. So I’m labeling it a very tiring respiratory virus. In other words…it’s a cold.

 
But I’ve spent these three days completely sedentary, and it’s scary how much my leg muscles don’t want to move at all now. It’s very plain to see how the vicious cycle of inactivity breeds more inactivity until one simply can’t do much of anything. 

 
I feel like I am at a crucial crossroad in my life. If I stay where I am, I will continue the downward spiral to being an invalid, and no doubt shortening my life considerably. By crossing the road…..replacing my hip….I am literally and figuratively taking lifesaving steps back to good health. 

A week from now, I will finally be where I’ve wanted to be for the last three months, and where I probably should have been a year ago. Taking care of business.  Once the hip is out of the way, I can concentrate on rebuilding muscle. That’s my top priority for as long as it takes.