How to survive a hip replacement at 35

Fully independent – well almost!

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 10:37:00 +0000

In the last couple of weeks I’ve returned to work, progressed to fully dressing myself and experienced my first hangover in six weeks!! Let’s break this down.

I returned to work on the 4^th Jan and boy was that a shock to the system! Just getting into work took twice as long as it used to and I’m not just complaining about the public transport system. Getting dressed, moving around the house, up and down stairs because I’ve forgotten something. Seb is sleeping like a baby and managed to open his eyes long enough to put my left sock on (the only part of me I couldn’t dress on my own!) before lazily drifting back off to sleep. Unlike me, he rocks up to work whenever he feels like it!

Then there’s the 600m walk, hobble, hop to the bus stop. First day, I rounded the corner to see the bus had only just departed the stop, literally a few metres. I stop and wave my crutches wildly in the hope that he takes pity and pulls up to let me on. Oh how wrong I was. The bastard looked right at me, then looked away and drove off. Arrgghh! What a complete asshole. Ooh I hate bus drivers! Not only are they the bain of my life now, but they are a damn nuisance when cycling as they feel it completely acceptable to run cyclists off the road, just for the sport of it. Just because you’re in a vehicle 50 times the size of me doesn’t make you superior!

So...... first day at work.......horrible. I never noticed our office chairs were so damn uncomfortable. How could an office chair cause that much pain and suffering – seriously? I was longing for my ‘special’ chair at home. After spending the morning fidgeting and whinging to myself in my head (cos no one likes to hear about your ailments) I had to give up. Fortunately I preempted this situation and gave my boss a heads up that I may just do half days for the first week to ease back into it. The bus journey home only exacerbated the discomfort and pain. It was so good to sink into my ‘special’ chair at home, and whack a load of pain killers down my throat!

Admittedly the rest of the week did get a little easier, I think my body or more precisely the bits that hurt, needed to adjust to more movement and a different sitting position. I mostly did half days or there abouts, you can’t concentrate when pain is jabbing at your body!

That weekend a friend was visiting Sydney so a small group of us had dinner and drinks. I was late (I was always late before, now I’m even later cos it takes longer to do anything!) and arrived last. Never one to miss an opportunity to glam up I put on a new dress, lots of bling and curled my hair. I considered painting glitter on my crutches to jazz them up a bit but was concerned I might not get the hire fee back. As I approached my table of friends one of the girls said to me, “you’re the hottest chick on crutches I know”. I just hope I’m hot when I’m not on crutches too?

The following week I decided to send back my invalid equipment – the ‘special’ chair, shower seat, table on wheels and the much used toilet seat raiser! I’m much more bendy than I was a few weeks ago so I’m able to lower myself on to the loo without too many problems. Oh the things we take for granted when we’re healthy. It took them several days to collect so I made use of them up until end of last week. Seb’s pleased, not having the seat raiser in the way means he doesn’t have to sleepily stagger to the toilet downstairs for his middle of the night pee!

Last Friday I decided to go out for a few cheeky ones after work. I was being good, 2 glasses of wine when everyone else had three. Then a little break. Then two glasses when everyone else had 4. Then we went for a massive Chinese meal. Then two glasses to finish off. Six glasses of wine over the course of about 5 hours with heaps of food to soak it up. Under normal circumstances this would have about as much affect as a packet of wine gums. Felt fine when I got home, although the telltale sign that I was on the tipsy side should have given itself away when I decided to have two slices of bread slathered with butter and vegemite! How could I possibly still be hungry after a monster Chinese meal? Anyway, slept like a baby until 6am.

Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkkk, who put the marching band IN MY HEAD! Why, oh why do I have a hangover? I drank lots of water, I ate lots and lots of food, and it wasn’t particularly late when I went to bed. Urrggghhhh. More sleep, that will get rid of it.

9am, marching band still happily pumping out the tunes. How and why could I possibly get a headache this bad with the amount of painkillers I consume? I should be indestructible!!! My colleague offered a theory – painkillers thin your blood therefore I’m more susceptible to the effects of alcohol. Admittedly I did take a painkiller before going to sleep, partly because I’d just walked a kilometer from the train station rather than getting a taxi like Seb suggested. And partly to pre-empt any headache I might receive from my first bout of alcohol in six weeks. That was my mistake.

Anyway, moving on. As mentioned above, I can now fully dress myself – woo hoo! I no longer have to wake the sleeping monster to put my left sock on. This is quite a break through as I was starting to think I would never be able to reach my left foot again! Second week back at work was certainly better than the first. Managed full days, albeit a bit uncomfortable to begin with but getting better.

In 2 days it’s six weeks since surgery. I called my surgeons office yesterday to book my first check up to discover he is STILL on holiday! His receptionist says he’s back next week but she can’t fit me in for another 2 weeks.

“But I’m six weeks post op this week, I’m due to see him at the six week mark” I exclaim

“Oh he sees his patients anywhere between 6-8 weeks so two weeks is fine.”

“Erm, it’s not, because I’m stuck on crutches and I want to get off them, is there anything sooner?”

She put me on hold…..for ages. I’m already formulating in my head what I’m going to say if she says she can’t book me in for another two weeks.

“Another 2 weeks is not good enough. I’m not one of his 70 year old patients with no life who sits in their house all day waiting for their nurse to visit to dress them, meals on wheels to feed them and weary relatives to visit them to moan at. I’m only 35! I have to go to work, I have a social life, there is drinking to be done and shoes to be shopped! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!!!”

Lucky for her she confirmed an appointment next week.

Christmas, set backs and smooth legs

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 01:08:00 +0000

"Honey, how do you feel about shaving my legs?"
"I don't want to shave your legs." Seb swiftly replies defiantly
"Why? It's easy, and it's only the lower half of my bad leg."
"Then you can have one shaved and one hairy" he suggests triumphantly.
"Honey, that is not the answer, plus the hair makes my legs itch under my compression socks. It'll be fine, I even use those protector razors so skin nicks are almost never."
"I don't want to shave your legs."

Hmm, this conversation is going nowhere. A leg is far easier to shave than a face so what's the issue!? I resort to suggesting hair removal cream. He seems less scared of that idea.

Despite my assumptions that his attempt at Christmas food shopping was going to be disastrous he actually coped very well. He came back with everything on the list and I can only recall about 4 phone calls during his trip to confirm, question or complain. I consider that a very successful mission!

Christmas Day and Boxing Day was lovely, just the two of us. Seb kindly brought down my shower chair so that I could sit in the kitchen and do all the work! But lets face it, had I left it to him we'd of had cheese on toast starters, followed by fish finger sandwiches and finished off with ice cream and chocolate topping. Instead for lunch I made pigs in blankets, devils on horseback, mini prawn cocktails and creamy sage and potato bakes which took all up about 2 hrs to prepare and cook. Sebby's contribution - keeping my champagne glass full!

Come the afternoon I'm getting a bit tired and not just my hip aches, but my back is killing me too.

"Ooh my feet hurt" exclaims Sebby
"Oh! Your feet hurt, what about my hip and back? I've been doing all the work!"
"But I've been putting stuff in the oven for you and loading the dishwasher. I need to lie down, I'm tired" he protests, fully believing that his assistance was noteworthy enough to reward him with a nap.

I really had no response to this, I was too flabbergasted.

As he crashed on the lounge sleeping like a baby I shake my head in the knowledge that it has nothing to do with 'helping me', he's simply had 10 too many devils, 5 too many pigs and 1 too many bottles of cheap red sparkling.

Come four o'clock and after having no nanna nap as sleeping piggy has hogged the lounge, it's again time to take to my kitchen seat and prepare a full turkey dinner. Sleeping piggy awakes to pick up his strenuous oven opening and clearing up duties. And most important of all.....to resume filling my champagne glass!

I think the activities of those couple of days took their toll a little bit. On Monday I took my dressing off as instructed by the nurse the previous week, to find that I am oozing! Yes, unpleasant I know. Not only that my thigh has swelled a little and I'm experience new pain. I don't like new pain. You get used to the pain that you have, you grow accustomed to it and it no longer concerns you because you expect it. But when a new pain arrives it's rather disconcerting. It's a bit like going out with someone to living with that person. You think you know all their habits, you've learnt to live with them, albeit in seperate homes, and don't expect any surprises. Then you move in together and suddenly realise that all those habits you could live with when you were able to retreat back to your own home are not his only habits - there's new ones! You all know what I'm talking about :-)

Anyway, the physio did tell me to expect some occassional set backs because you don't know you've overdone it till you've actually overdone it. So I had to go to my local GP to get my wound oozing looked at. It's nothing to worry about, in fact the rest of the scar is incredibly thin and neat - he's done a great job sowing me up! Makes the 10 inch scar next to it from 20 years ago look like a hack job. They cleaned up the oozing and redressed just that bit of the scar and sent me on my way. Had to go back twice to check it wasn't turning into an infection but it appears to have dried up now and the swelling has reduced.

On the progress front I am now getting on my exercise bike for some gentle cycling. It's set to no resistance at this stage. Today I burnt 24 calories in 6 mins over 2.2km's - wow!! Not sure that even compensates for one lick of a chocolate bar! I'm still doing my box and bound sessions, arms crazily waving around my body. I really hope the neighbours haven't spotted me.

I'm back to work next week which is a daunting prospect as I won't have my 'special' stuff - toilet seat and chair. Time to start getting back to normal. Using the crutches is getting annoying now but I'm soooo not ready to go full weight bearing, will be at least another 3 weeks.

Happy New Year all. It will be a fairly quiet one for me this year - I can't risk getting stuck far from home with no taxi's. I have at least seen the Sydney fireworks for real 3 times, watching them on the telly this year won't be too bad so long as I have a champers in my hand :-)

Two weeks post op - I can now put my own knickers on!

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 02:17:00 +0000

I'm starting to see some real progress now. I can't get my own trousers/joggers on yet, but I can get my knickers on! Good leg in, that bit is easy, drop knickers to floor, assist bad leg with placing foot into other side, wiggle toes through hole, once in use foot on good side to loop round and lift up to knee. Yay!

"Honey, honey, I can get my own knickers on!" I yell in glee to Sebby.
"That's nice darling, well done" he replies, with slight drollness in his voice. Well I suppose it's hard to get excited about his 35 year old girlfriend being able to get her knickers on.

This week I've been home alone whilst Seb went back to work. It's not been too bad, I've had someone from the healthcare program I'm on come each day - the physio and the nurse. The physio took me for a walk yesterday - my first venture into the outside world for 2 weeks! We didn't go far but it was a real confidence boost. It's easy to revert into a shell to keep yourself protected because of how fragile you feel. I can see, particularly in the past few days, that I'm getting stronger - I'm even going to take myself for a walk today. The physio is happy with my progress and has given me further exercises to do. Yesterday I got enthusiastic to do more exercise and tried finding any workouts on youtube for seated aerobics.

OMG - I found a seated aerobics workout by Mr Motivator! For the English or those that have lived there, particularly through the 90's you may remember the excruciatingly cheery, garishly dressed, fitness 'guru' that appeared on one of the daily morning programs. The only thing that got a workout was my face from laughing so much.

So I ditched that idea and decided to put on a DVD I have called Box and Bound - it's for use with a rebounder (mini trampoline). I figure I can do all the upper body stuff either seated or just standing. And I did - and any fly on the wall at the time would have seen how much of a fool I looked! Standing like I'd been frozen to the spot whilst my upper body flailed wildly trying to coordinate with the annoyingly sprightly girl on the screen. Gold.

That said, my arms do ache a bit today so it must have done something.

Other progress, I can now turn and sleep on my side - but not for very long. Two weeks of being on my back is getting annoying, plus I get hot being in one spot for hours. I'm sure the bed has a perfect indentation of my body embedded into by now! A couple of times in the night I manage to roll to my good side, pillow between my legs to keep the hip straight. I can only sustain the position for about half an hour before it gets uncomfortable on my hip but at least it gives some relief to my back. Unfortunately the numbness down the entire front of my thigh has not relented yet. From experience I expect it may take some weeks/months to get full feeling back. It's such a weird feeling when anything touches the skin. I can't even bear it when I touch it let alone anyone else. As the nurse in the hospital said, the nerves have been angered and they'll take some time to calm down.

Challenges for Seb coming up - I seriously need my legs shaved! Two weeks of growth, very spiky and uncomfortable under the stupid compression socks I have to wear all the time. I haven't broken this news to him yet. I'll save the details of that conversation for my next update. Before I break that one to him he needs to get over the trauma of doing the shopping for Christmas dinner. Bearing in mind it's the 23rd Dec, the supermarket is going to be rammed and he has a long list.

I better put my phone on charge as I expect there will be many many phone calls from him in frustration - where's this, where's that, they don't have any, yes I did look, it's not there, etc, etc. Oh joy.

Merry Christmas all - I'll be back next week. In the meantime check out the photo's of the $12,000 worth of hardware inside me.........

Bad planning

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 11:22:00 +0000

Today was a sad day, for today I had to do the unthinkable, the inconceivable, the most devastating act of my life. I sold my tickets to Bon Jovi tonight :'-(

I realised 2 days ago that I'm just not stable and mobile enough on my feet to withstand the crowds and slippery floors at the football stadium. Yes, I cried. Yes, Seb chuckled. Not in a mean way, but in a way that made me realise how pathetic I was being! The tears didn't last long.

A nice English lady and her partner that just arrived in Sydney 3 days ago bought them - for half the cost I paid! Nothing like adding salt into the wounds. Whether you are a Bon Jovi fan or not, they put on one of the best shows I've ever seen and I've seen A LOT of bands - big and small. So I know that right now she and tens of thousands of others will be Giving Love a Bad Name whilst Living on a Prayer and going Wild in the Streets. They'll be Wanted Dead or Alive and will Never Say Goodbye. This could go on for 12 albums worth but I'll save you the pain and stop here!

Back to the subject of this blog - my troublesome hip. Seen the physio twice this week - unfortunately he's not hot. Oh well. However he assures me that my progress is good and at the expected stage. "It's all raw in there" he says "it will take at least a couple of weeks before you start feeling significantly better". Hmm, raw. Sounds as nasty as it is. Fortunately he's not as mean as the ones in the hospital and doesn't make me do too much. I'm doing all the exercises now, not easily, but I can manage them. I tell him I want to start cycling on my exercise bike as soon as possible, he thinks it's a good goal to have by the time his sessions finish with me which is the end of next week. That's promising to hear but I'm not too sure I can get my leg over yet - the bike or anything else for that matter!

The nurse visited too and insisted on changing my dressing even though they only changed it 2 days ago. The dressings they use these days are fantastic, they're completely water proof and super sticky. Actually the super sticky part was not good - ooooouuuuuuch! Why are you doing this to me!!!! Apparently my surgeon prefers his patients to have a certain type of dressing. What fucking difference could it possibly make? I did forget that my neighbour was right outside my patio door doing some renovation work on my courtyard as I pulled my bottoms down to show the nurse. Oops, I think he got an eyeful of at least one cheek!

Day three at home and I'm now sorted of all the things I need to get by throughout the day. My table on wheels came today so I no longer have to rest my laptop or dinner on my legs. I also got a long handled grabber for troublesome things that fall on the floor. The best piece of advice - an apron! Thanks for that one Laurel. This at least enables me to potter to the kitchen, fill up my drinks bottle, put it in the apron pocket and potter back to my 'special' chair. Marvellous!

Sebby has been very patient with his patient. Poor boy has been running about all over the place for me whilst trying to get some work done. Although he has threatened on more than one occasion to put on his Kate Bush DVD and walk away with the remote controls! Ooh I hate Kate Bush.

Home time!

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 11:31:00 +0000

I promise, no more toilet talk - except to say that all is functioning as normal :0)

Main highlight of today - coming home!

Today I had delivered my special chair, my special shower seat and my special toilet seat raiser. I feel very 'special'.

I thought coming home would be more exciting, and it is, but it adds another level of frustration. In hospital there is someone to do everything - nurses for all medical related needs, orderlies for fetching stuff, cleaners, food bringers. And because it's not your home and you only have minimal personal effects with you it's easy to just shut off. But now I am at home I look around and see stuff I want to do. Like fold away the washing on the rack that I did last Wednesday, tidy up the dining and coffee tables, clean the kitchen, take down to the garage the stuff we no longer need in the house which is still sitting in the courtyard. Of course Sebby could have done all these things but he's a boy and he doesn't get it.

But I also want to lay on my beloved leather lounge and veg out, play with the bunnies, go shopping and cook some nice dinners. But I can't do any of those things, yet. So it's actually frustrating at home because I see all these things and I'm stuck in my 'special' chair.

Yes I'm having a whinge, just bear with me.

I also think the next few weeks will be a serious test of Seb's and I relationship! I see something that needs to be done, so I do it. I'm not usually sitting still for long unless I'm absolutely smashed by a hangover and can't bear the light of day. Even then it takes a real bad one to stop me. Seb on the other hand sees stuff to be done - actually, what am I saying - he simply doesn't see stuff to be done! He's oblivious to it.

"Honey, I see you didn't put the washing away that's been on the rack since last Wednesday?"
"Oh, I didn't see it".
"How could you not see it? It's in the living room, you've probably walked past it 50 times!"
He shrugs.

He asks what I want for dinner - I say pasta and sauce from a jar is easy as we don't have much else. We both want a few chilli flakes in it.

"Where's the chilli flakes?"
"They're on the spice rack where they always are darling" I say.
" I can't find them! Where the hell are they? Have we run out? We must have run out. We haven't got any"
"Honey, they are definitely there. Stop having a 'boy' look and go through them properly"
"Oh we don't have any, there's none here."
"Ok, I'm coming over to find them for you."
I got to standing position.
"I found them! The jar was at the back , what's it doing at the back?"

Bear in mind the spice rack is about 2 jars deep by about 6 jars across over three levels. There is a fair amount of jars in there, but it's a small space - why can boys not see what is in front them??

That said, he has been up and down the stairs today about 10 times for me and he was required to clean up my spilt pee because those damn toilet seat raisers are not very practical!

Sorry, I did say no more toilet talk. Doh.

Anyway as I was saying, day one in our new, albeit temporary regime, is over. I'm sure I will have a few stories to tell as the days and weeks pass.

It is great to be home though :-)

More toileting adventures

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 11:02:00 +0000

You may be starting to think I am a one dimensional, bodily function obsessed, toilet activities lover, and in some respects you are right - but that's because I don't have anything else to talk about at the moment!

So I had a reasonable nights sleep last night. And I managed to see only once all 3 meals from yesterday. Which on the face of it you would say is great, however this poses a slight concern. The Endone I have been taking for pain have an unfortunate side effect, as do most drugs, and that is constipation.

So far no need for number 2's. Last one was 4 days ago. Now, I haven't eaten that much and most of what I have has come back out the way it went in. But yesterday I had 3 meals, only small ones but that food has got to come out somehow.

Sitting in my chair this morning having just had breakfast, which by the way I specifically chose Just Right followed by stewed prunes, you know, to help things along a bit, and all of a sudden I needed to go. Didn't feel anything until it was literally there, waiting to be released. Great I thought, I'm obviously not constipated.

Unfortunately the lady I am sharing a room with is in the bathroom taking a shower so I call the nurse to point me in the direction of another loo. The problem is the nearest loo is quite a long way down the corridor so she decides to get me a wheelchair.

Clearly she had a brain wave on her search for a wheelchair and thought a komode would be a much better option. Better for whom? Do you all know exactly what a komode is? It's a toilet seat chair on wheels. Open your robe she says and take a seat, there's a private room down the hall that's empty, better than going to the public loo.

Yes, better than the public loo but it still means I have to be wheeled down the corridor with my arse hanging out! Oddly, before I took a seat on this mobile throne she drew the curtain in my room for my privacy. But lady, you're wheeling me down a corridor with my bum cheeks protruding through the toilet seat - where's the privacy?!

After my breezy ride down the corridor she positions me over the loo. Time for a good squeeze, and I'll back in my room in no time.

Squeeeeeeze, hmm.....nothing, squeeeeeeeeeeeze, erm....still nothing. Squeeze, lean to one side, squeeze, lean to the other side. It's not happening. I have a little feel around with some tissue. Yes I know that's gross but I need to know if there is in fact something there. Yes, there mostly definately is. I think the slang term is turtle head.

Twenty minutes of the above and I'm hot, sweaty, uncomfortable and frustrated. Nurse comes to check on me, she suggests an anal laxative.

Oh right. You mean I'm trying to get something out and you want to squirt something up? She brings back 2 tubes, just in case she says. First nozzle up. "oh, it's like cement up there". Thanks for the encouraging description. "Lucky I brought two tubes". Up goes the second one. Three minutes later, kersplash! And I am left with the biggest grin of relief you've ever seen.

That's pretty much the most exciting thing about today. Although I did go for a couple more walks and practiced using my crutches up and down stairs. Seb visited, but he was a little drunk - client Christmas lunch, not that he needs much of an excuse! He's all in a flap cos I go home tomorrow which means he has to take some responsibility for me. I think I will be the one assuring him everything will be ok. He does try :o)

Pee freedom

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 09:51:00 +0000

Feeling much more chirpy today so I promise my updates from now on will not be quite so depressing!

Six o'clock this morning, time to whip out the catheter. It has been an absolute life saver over the past few days. I was worried the removal might hurt. The nurse blocks off the tube - we don't want my pee spraying everywhere do we! Would be a little like that scene from Trainspotting when he shits the bed and the mum insists she takes the sheet to wash. In the tug of war, SPLAT, crap everwhere. Very funny, not sure I would have seen the funny side had a litre of my pee sprayed me, the nurse and the room! By the time I've finished saying "is it going to hurt" it's out! It goes up there quite a long way too, I could see her pulling it out . I don't need to know how it works, i'm just glad it did.

Of course this means I am now actually responsible for taking a pee - shame, I was getting used to the freedom. Ten o'clock comes, I need to pee. Press buzzer in the hope the nurse can help me out of bed and I can use the walking frame to get to the toilet. Fifteen minutes later, he (yes today it is a male nurse) doesn't come. It might be the after effects of the catheter but I feel I don't have as much control as I would normally. I'm starting to feel a little desperate now. Buzz buzz buzz. It's coming up to 30 mins. That scene from Trainspotting is going to be replicated with my pee when my bladder explodes any moment now. I start to call out. Where the hell are the nurses??! FINALLY! He tells me he was attending to the floor downstairs. Those ads about not enough nurses to patients in NSW are obviously true!

"I need to pee NOW! No, I don't have time to get out of the bed and to the toilet. GET ME A BED PAN!!!"

I was partly in hope that in the last 20 years someone, anyone, would have invented a better in situ toilet design for women. Seriously, there must be a better design than that. The height in which you have to raise your arse off the bed, it's a good 4-5 inches. That is a long way when you are so incapacitated you can't get out of the bed and go normally. Please, someone come up with a more comfortable less traumatic way for a woman to take a pee when she is bed bound. It's times like that I wish I just had a dangly thing I could stick into a bottle. You men have it so easy.

What relief though. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The physio visits, today we try out crutches. Being laid out on my back for approx 14 hrs means I'm a little on the stiff side. So she decides to make me do knee raises and sideways lifts. Fuck off. I'm not doing that. Actually, I can't do that, I have legs made of cement. They ain't raising anywhere lady. I do manage to go about 10 metres on crutches though. That's enough for now. It's time for a treat, a warm shower!

Yay no more bed baths! I have a special shower chair and a special toilet seat raiser chair which I am also hiring for home. It's good to feel the warm water.

Sebby visits, and he arrives in time to witness my next physio session. This time I'm a little more cooperative and give the exercises a go. Didn't quite do 10 reps of each but managed 5. She seemed pleased but looks concerned I'm not making progress quickly enough. I don't think she fully appreciates what I've been through! I also go for another walk, this time to the end of the corridor and back, probably a good 50 metres. I'm knackered by the time I get back. Seb suggests another game of scrabble.

I didn't realise it at the time but he's playing me. He can see I'm a little wrought, a bit spaced. Perfect opportunity to thrash me, and he does. "I love playing you when you're sick". Charming.

From pathetic and miserable to coping, in 2 days

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Sat, 11 Dec 2010 21:04:00 +0000

Warning, don't read this if you're squeamish.

First night after surgery, not exactly a great night. The speed has worn off, reality is kicking in. The reality of, why did I decide to put myself through this?

Manage to sleep max 1 hr at a time, being observed every 2 hrs anyway - blood pressure, temperature, funny little bleepy thing on my finger, must be heart rate. Narcotics every 4 hrs, antibiotics squirted into drip every 6 hrs. This is almost as painful as my hip - feels like my hand and lower arm is going to explode in flames. Apparently they've inserted the canula in my wrist into a thin vein hence the pain when pumping fluid through. Great, as if I don't have enough pain already. Got to have 6 of these bastards I the next 2 days.

The morning comes, some breakfast - 1 slice of toast and cereal. I manage to eat the toast. Feeling aweful, stressed, frustrated, why did I do this to myself? Later on I will explain why - but right now I am regretting it.

Break down in tears. Not really like me to do that. I tell myself off for being so pathetic. I get more teary, it appears to be uncontrollable. Finally I bring myself under control.

Then it's bed bath time - lovely, just what I wanted when feeling pathetic and miserable. I have a bed frame to keep the sheets and blankets off my feet. The orderly helping the nurse tries to remove the frame, it appears to be stuck on something. In her head she must have thought "I know, I'll just yank it out"

"FUUUUUUUCK. Fucking hell, what are you doing!!!? Fuck....fuck....fuck" The nurse comes running, the orderly disappears sheepishly. Very stressed now. More from the shock of it. The nurse tries to calm me down. I'm more angry at the orderly's carelessness than any pain I'm in. I get a bit teary again from the stress of it, but quickly calm down. I need to keep calm, stress will not help.

The physio comes round, "we're going to get you out of bed and up on your feet today." "Erm, I don't think so lady." No choice, I'm getting up. Unfortunately I've not long had a small lunch - you'll realise why later. The orderly (not the same one thankfully!) is one side if the bed, the physio the other. She assures me she has full support of my leg, I grab the overhead triangle bar to pull myself up - deep breathes. Using both arms, slowly slide myself to the edge of the bed - more deep breathes. Heart is racing - I feel like I'm made of porcelain and will shatter in an instant. More deep breathes - I look like a pregnant woman giving birth, you see it in the movies, lots of quick breathes in anticipation to lots of pain. Full weight on good leg. 1, 2, 3 stand! Whoah, oh fuck, feeling dizzy but feels good to know I've done it. Really feeling dizzy now. That's it for today, ease back into bed. Feeling nauseous. Trying to not let it get the best of me. I hate being sick. Well no one enjoys it. But I almost fear it. Mouth is watering, they have a bowl at the ready. Bluuuuuuggghhhhhh hello toast, hello lunch, plus at least about 1 litre of water. Despite hating being sick it felt so good once it was out. They assure me it's normal. Stress, pain, dizzyness from laying down for 24hrs, the narcotics - all will cause sickness.

Sebbles then arrives. He doesn't cope well with sick people. My face must be a picture of miserableness. My anesthetist pops by. He tells me it was a complicated surgery but my surgeon will explain more. He has authorised more narcotics (called Endone, tablet form rather than morphene injections). Yay, I need them!

Dinner arrives, I force down a bread roll and some ice cream. Seb can eat the rest. I'm due for some more Endone, nurse says I've exceeded my daily amount and she can't give me anymore just yet. "but Dr Nick authorised it, he said 3 every 4 hrs, what do you mean I have exceeded my dose already?". I'm getting stressed again. The thought of no pain relief till midnight (it's only 7pm) freaks me out. Nurse assures me she will call my surgeon. The surgeon arrives, he says "look at her, she's young, she's robust and she's alert. We can't have her in pain - 3 Endone every 4 hours if she wants them". Phew, thanks doc, although less of the robust.

He stops long enough to explain to Seb and I what happened during the surgery. Basically I had no hip socket to cement the ceramic cup to. So he had to build one out of nuts, bolts and other hardware. "oh" I say "so that's why I needed the surgery". "A standard hip replacement takes 1-1.5 hrs. Your's took 3.5 hrs". And to get my length back he's stretched the muscles in my thigh by 3 cms. That's why I am experiencing more pain than most hip op patients. He concludes with telling me he's very happy with the result, he says I will be too.

Time for Seb to leave. He looks almost as stressed as I do. Poor old bugger, I doubt he'll ever read this, he doesn't cope well.

I grin and bear through watching some TV, then try to settle for another night of miserableness. And the damn leg compression machine (to prevent deep vein thrombosis) buzzes constantly. It's driving me mad!

It's 3am and I'm due for another dose of antibiotic. I'm dreading it. I whinge to the nurse how much it's been hurting. She takes pity and says she can feed it through my drip instead. It takes about 20 mins to drip through, I can feel it but it's not painful. She also changes the leg compressor machine to one that runs silent. I like this nurse! I manage to get 2.5 hrs sleep in one go - magic, I awake 5.30 am with almost no pain and feeling at least 50% better. That's a big improvement.

That day was a better day. All my tubes are removed, except the catheter. I freaked out about the catheter before but I'm so glad I've got it. With the amount of fluid I've had both orally and through the drip the prospect of having to raise myself onto a bed pan several times a day would have scared the crap out of me - I probably would have wet the bed! It's a funny thing, having no sensation to pee but seeing them empty about two big jugs per day! It just freely flows out. No poos yet, hopefully I'll be capable of going to the toilet by the time I need to go. For those that know me reading this we've just become so much closer in our relationship!

The physio came again. Time to walk! Slide off the bed, lots of giving birth type breathes, 1, 2, 3 stand up! Not dizzy yet so let's go walking! I'm of course using a frame on wheels. Slide frame forward, step with bad leg, take 50% weight through the arms, then good leg steps, start all over again. Made it about 10 metres in total. I'm allowed to sit in the chair for a while. It's good to be upright. Feeling dizzy, feel dizzy for about an hour, am desperately trying to fight it off. Uh-oh, where's the nurse call button - push, push, push. Nurse, get me a bowl -NOW!! Bluuuuuuggghhhhhh. Just as she thrusts the bowl in front of me. Two seconds later and I would have been covered in it. Lunch arrives, needless to say I don't fancy any.

Four hours later I have to go back to bed, but not before she insists on another walk. This time I probably manage 15-20 metres. My physio is all sunshine and lollipops. Kind of annoying but it is nice to hear the positivity in her voice as I huff and puff my way through it.

Sebby arrives. We play scrabble. He wins by a mere 4 points and conveniently forgets I gave him a 16 point word score by suggesting he puts his letter 'A' in front of the word 'voids' already on the board. He still thinks he's a winner. Boys.

Wow...no pain....amazing

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 09:29:00 +0000

20 years ago (it pains me to say anything 20 years ago) I had an osteotomy. Very painful, woke up disoriented, balling my eyes out, not knowing what the hell had happened.

Today, oh so different. Anyone reading this that needs something similiar, definately go the spinal anesthetic.

Laying in the anesthesia bay they put my drip in my arm. Yet again, despite my statement of being shit scared of needles and listening to my heart monitor racing with beeps, the doc says "oh your veins are hard to find aren't they?"
Erm, I DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS!

He told me pre surgery I won't feel the spinal needle. Well at least he lied about that. After about 4 or 5 jabs and blaming my tattoo for obscuring his view we were finally done. Phew, needles over.....for now.

So I'm left laying there, just lightly sedated waiting for paralisation to set in. And boy is that fucking weird! Starts with some tingling, then warm feeling. Tingling increases. Let's try wiggling toes...hmmm, where are my toes? Erm, seriously, where are my toes? Excuse me people, WHERE ARE MY TOES?!

Nurse assures my toes are still there. I don't believe her. Wait....where are my fucking legs! Oh this IS freaky. I begin to prod around with my finger, nothing. Doc comes back, grabs my elusive toes and starts wiggling them. I know he is doing this cos I can see him, but I feel nothing, nada, zip, diddlysquat. Oh fuck, I'm paralysed. I'm not religous but I'm praying they don't have a fire right now.

Next doc says "here comes the good bit". I ask "what you doi.......zzzz"

About 3-4 hrs later I'm in the recovery ward. I'm wide awake. No delerium. No disorientation. NO PAIN. Ahh-mazing. He may have prodded me in the back several times (ooh-err) but that stuff is amazing. Surgeon comes round and says "I'm in trouble, you were a bit more complicated due to having no hip socket so my other patients have been put back." Told Sebby this story, he agreed that I'm complicated.

Doc also confirms "go get your Milano Blahniks and Jimmy Choos cos there isn't even a millimeter difference in your legs."

WooHoo! No more shoe inserts, no more scanning the shoe shop and knowing in an instant I can't wear any of those strappy sparkly shoes, hopefully no more lower back pain from being uneven. This is the best outcome. Yes I am vain.

As I get wheeled to my room I'm delighted to see my gorgeous Sebby armed with flowers, obligatory grapes, refreshing tub of rockmelon, fresh apple juice and of course.....chocolate! Not just any old chocolate, the good English stuff, Galaxy, from the Treats from Home shop. Brilliant.

Surprisingly I'm really hungry. Another benefit if spinal and only a light general anesthetic - recovery is quick.

Nurse comes round to check my blood pressure - it's a little on the low side. The solution?......a shot of speed in the thigh! She said I'll be bouncing off the walls in no time! I hope that's metaphorically speaking!

So I'm a little high right now. It's all good.

Thanks to everyone I has called, text and facebooked - much appreciated.

THE Day

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 19:48:00 +0000

Today is the day. I'm 2nd on the factory line. Will be on the slab by 9.30am
GULP

The penultimate day

noreply@blogger.com (Teresa) — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 23:28:00 +0000

Ah, a day off work to relax, chill out and not think about what tomorrow brings.

WRONG! Because my darling boyfriend is lovely but a bit on the easily flustered side I have to ensure the washing is done, the house is clean, the bunny rabbits have enough food for the week, he has enough food for the week - this is on top of wrapping all his bloody Christmas presents cos I'll struggle to do it after the operation (you know you generally spread all the presents out on the floor, wrapping paper everywhere, misplacing the scissors under stuff, where has the sticky tape gone - I can't be doing all that from a bed or a chair!). Plus I need to pack my bag, remove my nail polish - why do hospitals insist on this? - and cook my man his last decent meal (and mine for that matter) that we're gonna get for the next 4-5 days.

Upon reflection if I had none of the above to do I'd have too much time to freak out about tomorrow!

So what's in store for me. Let's see........a light sedation is administered, it says in the little booklet the hospital gave me, that should be nice. Don't mind a bit of light sedation. Followed by a huge a needle in the spine! Oh fantastic, so they're going to paralyse me from the waist down. Reading on, ooh that doesn't sound good.....a catheter???? WTF! they're going to insert a tube where??? Oh no, that's just uncalled for. Although, thinking about it, the idea of taking a pee whilst having a conversation with someone in the room could be quite amusing - for me at least.

Day 2, get out of bed. Are you kidding me? You've just chopped the head of my femur off and replaced it with titanium and you want me to walk on it? They really don't like people hanging around in hospitals these days do they? Remove catheter - so presumably that's after I have the feeling back in my lower half? That's creeping me out. I don't want to think about it anymore...... eeeeww.