At 62…Replacement Parts

I always vowed that I was leaving the planet with all my original parts. The mastectomy and reconstruction in 2009 negated that vow, but I still had everything major that was originally issued. This new hip, however, is a big deal.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a very competitive person. I suppose that’s why there’s some small thrill of success when every doctor who looks at my hip X-ray gasps in astonishment that I’m walking at all. Apparently, I won that prize. There’s no longer any resemblance to a hip joint – it’s a blob of bone all fused together.

The ability to function is rapidly decreasing, and I’ve gone from occasionally needing a hiking stick to needing it all the time to worrying that some days, I won’t be able to move forward at all. At least a few times each day, it takes every bit of energy I have to just get from one room to the next.

The shooting, burning, knife-stabbing pain that left me literally screaming for relief most nights last year is gone. It’s replaced by a general pain that pretty much goes away if I’m off my feet – and is pretty constant if I’m on them. So – I spend most of my time in my chair or at my desk or on the bed. I work hard to manage 1500 – 3000 steps each day. Living with chronic pain is debilitating in itself, and it’s exhausting. There are lines in my face that were never there before. Pain is a harsh taskmaster.

Even though I’ve begged for them, the doctors would not prescribe any form of pain pills due to the “opioid crisis”. I took a prescription form of Motrin for awhile, until my blood pressure went through the ceiling. So, that’s gone. I’ve taken massive doses of Motrin and Tylenol, to no avail – and to the point that I’m concerned it’s affected my kidneys and liver.

To sum it up – my life has gone from a pretty happy and active life to one of constant pain and inactivity. It’s more than time for a change.

But it’s a really big one.

There are a thousand questions skidding through my mind. Everyone has told me that it’s an easy recovery. They’ve said I will wonder why I waited so long. They all say that this surgery gave them their lives back.

And that’s the reason that I’m doing it. I want my life back. My body is way past anything I thought I’d deal with as a very senior citizen, much less in my early 60s. I want ease of movement again. I want to walk. I want to escape this damnable pain. I trust my surgeon. He has an excellent reputation and I think he can fix me. I’m telling myself there will be no complications, that my new hip and I have got this.

I know I will be chafing at my recovery. Muscles will be cut, taken off the bone and reattached during the surgery. That alone takes a long time to heal. I still get nerve zings from my surgery in 2009. I will be on a walker for six weeks in order to allow the hip to knit itself into my tissues. Since it’s my right leg, I can’t drive for at least six weeks. I will be using a hiking stick for another six weeks – then I’m done. The walking aids are for tissue healing more than for balance. I will have only two restrictions during this time – don’t bend over at the waist 90 degrees or more – and don’t put my right foot up on my left knee. After healing – there are no restrictions for the rest of my life, except to avoid running for exercise. I can certainly live with that!

One of my friends said that the pain before surgery was just pain. The pain after surgery was accomplishing healing. That’s a great way to look at it, and it’s an attitude I want to remember.

I also want to welcome this new bionic joint into my body. I did that with my breast implant following the mastectomy. I visualized the tissues surrounding it, settling it into place, and welcoming it into my body. It may sound ridiculously zen, but I believed it was important. And so I will welcome this new little part that I’m praying will change my body back to one that is fully functional.

The doctor wants me to take up swimming as soon as he releases me to do so. The therapy clinic has a fit for life program where they will write me a therapy plan and I will pay to use the machines on my own. And I will walk and eventually start to enjoy some of our many hiking trails. I have a lot of ground to make up to recover from this lost year.

I’ve done everything I can think to do to prep for this recovery time. My office is relocated from upstairs to a card table in the den. I have magazines and video services and puzzles and games. Groceries and pre-made meals are bought to give Catlin a break. I have all sorts of after-surgery aid devices. The den is rearranged. I think I’m ready.

Once again, I’m walking to the edge of the roof and trusting my cape. This is a let go and let God moment. This is something I can’t fix on my own. It’s time to thank my original parts for all the happy years – and to welcome this zippy new replacement hip into its new home. I’m praying hard the surgery will be successful and that my recovery will be complete.

It’s just one more thing I thought I’d never do…at 62 – and beyond.