Clarity After the Hip Op

Today is day 20.

I had planned to write earlier, but recovering from surgery is exhausting, time consuming (lots of rabbit holes to be drawn into) and can be very enervating and mood changing. What happens during hip surgery is now very clear to me and I already feel like an expert. There are a crazy number of videos out there which for some reason I did not find before the surgery, and only now watch as I complete each day's monotonous but crucial physio.

My surgery experience: now having watched loads of YouTube videos on hip surgery, I know my experience was very routine (except on the videos patients get to talk to the actual consultant and I didn't get to meet mine). Nil by mouth, an arrow drawn on my leg, lots of being asked my name and date of birth, friendly professionals getting me ready for the 'ride'. I say 'ride' as I began to feel like I was being prepared for a bungy jump. My adrenalin was increasing as I passed through each stage, and I was given 'the talk', lots of reassurance, and finally trolleyed onto a lift and down to Theatre. That felt like the ghost train before the bungy jump, especially as the bed pushed through numerous double doors, which swung ominously banging shut behind me as we trolleyed through corridors and round corners. The anaesthetists were just like those serious yet lighthearted bungy jump harness-upers, they calmed me down, gave me a painless spinal injection with a nonsensical 'lets just do this'; and once that was over I really did feel I could enjoy this madness....

Day 3 and ready to be discharged

Post Op in the hospital: Best sleep I have had was during surgery. I had no idea I had passed out, just aware of vivid dreams then awake. Wheeled out of Theatre and monitored for ages. I felt quite nervous about the impending pain and the fact I'd just had the top of my thigh bone sawn off, and then had to stop my mind going there...

I was in hospital for three nights, and - keeping with the funfair analogies - this was a rollcoaster of elation and pain. It was a journey of connections with my body and a sense of community with those on the ward, as well as a series of overwhelming challenges where it was clear I was alone and just had to deal with it. Basic bodily functions became like a mountain climb and experiencing this gave me an insight into the terror of aging and losing capacity. You don't realise what you have until it doesn't work. When you can't stand. When you can't turn in the bed. When you need a wee. The first night was hard and I learnt I had low blood pressure and passed out when I first sat on a commode. The second night, no matter the pain meds I was given, the leg nerve endings were firing and muscles twitching and I just had to ride this pain. I began to see this as a positive pain. For years, even decades, the brain had dulled the reception of these nerve responses as it does for chronic pain, it was as if the nerves were reconnecting again and the brain was allowing itself to receive (even through opoids and morphine!). I saw the dawn on both days (I was over looking the town of St Albans) and it was always an uplifting and refreshing sight inspite of lack of sleep.

During the days, I began to get comfort from the routine of food, meds, physio, down time and chatting. Nausea crept in on day 3, and we were all vomitting, this became the new challenge. The heat, the meds, the pain perhaps. Once I'd left the ward on Friday evening though, I didn't get nauseous any more.

Day 4 At Home: Leaving the hospital was far more scary than I had expected. I was desperate to leave the stifling ward (this was one of the heatwaves of August '22), but didn't know how I'd cope without my nurse call button, my electric hospital bed, the reassurance of so much expertise. My lovely son and boyfriend had set up the house, decluttering and arranging things and once I'd slept in the bed we'd put downstairs, I felt so happy. I looked out at my garden in the morning, instead of hospital windows over a city and felt that it was all going to work out fine.

Day 20 Reflecting back:

Organising my medication schedule

The first best thing I did was organising my medication. I had a wipe-off board and scheduled all the timings and amounts. It stopped me making mistakes but mostly reassured me that I was in control of my pain and what was going into my body. As the days passed, I suddenly realised I needed to reduce the Oxycodene (a synthetic opioid) as my headaches and mood swings were worsening. I was also happy to finish the last of 10 doses of Enoxaparin, an anticoagulant which was a daily injection into the subcutaneous fatty tissues of the stomach. Now I take daily 75mg aspirin plus Omeprazole to protect the stomach lining.

Reducing the meds to 7 types after 3 days

Getting a structure for a systematic decrease in meds is where my two books on hip ops came in handy. No one at the hospital talked me through managing meds at home. It isn't like a dose of antibiotics, everyone needs to wean off pain medication at their own pace, as well as the laxatives and anti nausea pills. The wipe-off board was great to edit and try out smaller doses at certain times.

Creative ways to enjoy warm water washes!

The second best thing was buying a sitz bath or bidet. As I wrote earlier, having an operation made me reappreciate the basic functions of our bodies. When I know I can't get in my shower for at least a month, only having bed baths, the bidet is incredible for this phase of recovery. That, the grabber, my little tray trolley and - of course - my crutches, are my essentials for this recuperation period.

Above all, recovering is quite a lonely journey and I was so grateful for the visitors who came and entertained me and helped out. Lovely people who dropped off meals, took my son away on small holidays, just popped in for a coffee and a chat. It coincided with my brother and family's visit to England after four years of not seeing them, and it was a joy to reunite with my now 8 and 10 year old neice and nephew albeit for a few days, and some quality time with my sister in law. I do think their energy (and love of diverse foods) really boosted my mood and recovery in that first week back home. At the core of this healing journey is my boyfriend who encouraged me to make a decision in the first place through logic and rational argument, and then - true to his word - supported me throughout the operation and hospital recovery, with gentleness and patience.