A New Hip, A New Lease on Life

The wheels are off and I'm back in action.

After a brutal week, I am a man reborn.

Early last Monday, I walked—limped, actually—into the hospital for my long-overdue right hip replacement surgery. I was the first one on the surgical docket that morning, and everything went so swimmingly that by early afternoon, I was discharged and sent home.

That’s when the fun started.

Anesthesia has an amazing ability of tricking the mind into thinking the body isn’t in pain when it really is. How could it not be when it just had an original, 65-year-old joint taken out and replaced with an artificial one made of titanium steel and ceramic?

By the time I got up on Tuesday, the anesthesia had worn off and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Now, I’ve been through so many surgeries in my life, including having my left hip replaced three years ago, that you would think I’d be mentally prepared for this.

But the mind rebels anew at every new round of pain thrown its way. The mind shouts—Why are you doing this to me again? Do you remember how awful that last time was, and the time before that, and the time before that? No, because I’ve dulled the memories. I did that for your benefit. And now you’ve gone back into the ring for another round of beating?

You find yourself reasoning with your own mind—

-        It had to be done, you know. We were in a lot of pain.

-        Not like this!

-        It wasn’t going to get any better.

-        Anything is better than this!

But the other thing about pain is that each time you go through it, it adds to your inner reservoir of resilience. You forget that reservoir is there when you’re not in pain, but when the pain returns, you go back to the well to get you through another round of suffering.

Every day last week, I reminded myself that the next day would be better, and the following day better than that, and so on and so on. And so, it was.

By the end of the week, I felt like I was turning the corner. The pain and swelling were starting to ebb and—blessedly—I was able to sleep again.

By the weekend, I was limping around the house without the walker. Today, Sunday, I’m feeling even better. Already, I’m noticing how much more mobility I have than before. My right hip doesn’t want to buckle every time I put weight on it.

If things keep going in this direction, I should be able to venture outside this coming week. To walk Cassie. To go for a ride in the car. Maybe even drive myself (one step at a time, now, Jim).

It really is miraculous what modern medical science can do. Ten or twenty years ago, this kind of surgery would have laid me up for months. I would have needed grueling physical surgery. I would have needed to avoid certain kinds of movements that could have led to joint dislocation.

Today, because of minimally invasive surgery done without cutting through muscles, I am up and about with no restrictions or need for PT. Best of all, the old arthritic pain is gone, and the new surgical pain is receding into the fuzzy recesses of my memory.

All this within a week of surgery. Incredible.

I am grateful to my amazing surgeon and his team.

I am grateful to the wonderful nurses at the hospital who took such good care of me.

I am grateful to my dear wife Rachael for being there for me every step of the way.

Between caring for me and the dogs and everything else, she has been a trooper.

I still have a road ahead of me, but I feel the worst is past. I have a new hip, a new lease on life, and hopefully another 25,000 miles on this aging chassis.

There’s still life to live, and I plan to live it to the fullest.