My hips don't lie

 Hey friends!

It's been awhile (Did you just hear 2008 hit by Staind? I'm currently in my "vintage" music era. You've been warned). 

I've been a bit quiet and holding out/hiding out as I process some news. 

Last we spoke, I was explaining that I did something weird to my back that prevented my body from reaching vertical status. That back injury, my friends, was what they refer to in the literary world as "foreshadowing." 

The back pain turned into groin pain, and eventually into hip pain. I went to my trusted Physiotherapist and asked him to check things out. During the assessment, we both heard my hip click and then catch. It yelled out in pain, the hip clicked again and released. My heart sank. I know what catching and locking means. It's all related to my shitty cartilage. My physio was sympathetic but directed me to pursue an MRI as soon as possible and provided me with strengthening exercises and stretches to help ease the pain. 

For the next few weeks, I kept all of this information inside - my little secret. I told Ev but argued that I wouldn't worry anyone else until I got MRI results. That, in retrospect, was a bad idea. 

I suffered a severe IBS flare up, which, for me, is always linked to stress. My stomach protested anytime I put food into it, and I spent a few sleepless nights, either tossing and turning in bed or in the bathroom wishing I hadn't consumed food that day. It was the pits. 

"I am in misery. There ain't nobody that can comfort me" - Maroon 5

My psychologist questioned why I was keeping this information about my health a secret, and all that I could think of was that I felt bad about disappointing people. The past summer was one of the best summers for me, physically. My posse noticed, commenting, "It's so good to see you back!" It felt like a victory for all of us, given the fact that so many have supported me through the ups and downs of the past 12 years. I pictured the faces of my loved ones as I told them the cartilage disease was back, and all I could see was disappointment...and fatigue. Everyone is tired of hearing about my cartilage. I felt like I had let everyone down. 

Once I talked this through with my psych, I realized that I needed to externalize all these thoughts that were driving me crazy. I typically do that through this blog, which is so cathartic for me, but I wasn't ready to discuss it on a public forum yet. So, I started with my mom. My fabulous mom, my biggest cheerleader, who has been my right-hand woman through all my surgeries listened quietly as I shared my news. Obviously, she felt bad/sad for me, and we both lamented how unfair all of this was...but then we talked about making a plan, selecting a good surgeon, and moving forward. I felt so much better after unloading this information. I'm sure it added to my mom's stress that day, but I know my mom just wants to be there and help me through this. Thank you, mom, for taking some of that off my chest...or my bowel or whatever. 

I found myself back in the MRI tube, pleasantly and mildly sedated on Ativan (no cativan this time, friends!) The familiar sound of the clicking, honking, and banging of the MRI machine jived nicely with the song that repeated in my head,

 "Here I go again on my own. Goin' down the only road I've ever known." - Whitesnake

I held out a tiny bit of hope that the issue could be a very fixable labral tear, but I was prepared for the results that appeared in my inbox a few days later...I had multiple grade 4 articular cartilage defects in the femoral head of my hip. A contralateral view indicated the other hip was also in bad shape. Ugh. 

I have the benefit this time around of private insurance. Although this means I have a co-pay, in addition to insanely high annual fees, I "get to" select my own doctors. I knew that I needed someone who would listen, consider my extensive medical history, and forgo the sexy cartilage replacement surgeries that were not previously effective in treating my knees. I had seen Dr. Alwin for a knee consult post knee replacement and really liked his quiet confident demeanor, knew he was top in his field for joint replacements, and decided to pursue him. 

I waited 5 weeks for the consult, and during those 5 weeks, I watched and felt my body deteriorate before my eyes. It SUCKED. Instead of disappointing everyone around me, I just felt incredibly disappointed in myself. How did I go from e-foiling like a champ just a few weeks ago to barely being able to get myself to a standing position? I finally experienced a taste of freedom, and it was being taken away from me...again. I knew that self-compassion was what I needed, but every time that I looked at myself in the mirror, all that I saw was a loser with a defective body. How do you not view yourself as "defective" when the word "defect" is found in each and every MRI report you've ever read about your body? Isn't it crazy how fast you can turn on yourself? During this time, Ev was in Asheville, navigating a business during one of the worst natural disasters in history. Wifi was sporadic, so we weren't able to communicate much. I felt really bad for what he was dealing with, terrible for the people who lost loved ones and homes, and I felt guilty for feeling sorry for myself and my stupid hip. Oddly, I never really sat down and grieved this new plot twist in my life. Instead, I began projecting my sadness onto other random things. One day as I was driving, I ugly cried for at least 15-minutes over a cow that had been left standing in a flooded pasture. That poor poor cow. (I also would like to apologize to the lady who witnessed me bawling in the Foster's parking lot). Ya...they weren't the best of times, that's for sure. 

"I tried so hard and got so far...in the end it doesn't even matter." - Linkin Park

I finally met with Dr. Alwin on Friday. (Aside: I'm fully aware that a 5-week wait is incredibly swift compared to my fellow Canadians who wait months for a consult witd h a specialist. Don't come at me, public health care recipients!) He was calm and confident, just as I remembered him. He listened intently to my 12-year history, raising his eyebrows a few times in surprise ("You had Serotonin Syndrome??" I loooove impressing doctors with my medical anomalies), and then proceeded to show me the images of my shitty hip, as well as her not-as-shitty partner. After x-rays and discussion, we quickly agreed that a total hip replacement was the only option. He showed me his fancy dual mobility implant, along with the porous cap that they 3D print to ensure the bone grows into the implant. He explained his anterior entry approach (which I had read is the most current with the fastest recovery data), and we selected a date of Dec. 16. Merry Christmas to me. I gently requested a bilateral hip replacement - why not get them both done at once? Maybe slot the ankles in for Valentine's Day? Let's really mess with the TSA security screen.  But he suggested taking one at a time, and suspects that the other hip may hold on for a bit longer once the evil hip is removed.

 "Hold on for one more day." - Wilson Phillips. 

So... I have a plan. I'm currently struggling with pain relief. I'm opting for massages, chiropractic care, physio, movement, nostalgic music/shows, and a glass of wine here and there, as opposed to the opioids that are effective, but turn me into a numb blob. I can do this. It's only a month away. I am so so so thankful that I switched jobs when I did. I'm grateful that Evan is such a smart cookie, growing his businesses to a place where we don't need to rely on my income to support our lifestyle. My new schedule allows for enough down-time in between clients and long weekends to recover. My new employers/teammates have been nothing but kind and understanding and are willing to help me through this with little or no disruption to my clients. What a relief. This is not my fault. It's taken over a decade for me to fully realize this. 

Finally, I'm pursuing a referral to a Geneticist. I want to learn more about the composition of my cartilage, and why this is happening to me. Now that it's moved from my knees to my hips, which is extremely rare (the story of my life), I'm experiencing increased fear about my future and prognosis. I think more information is needed. 

 Another surgery (#16), another joint - surely, I've been dealt these cards for a reason. But seriously, how many more life lessons do I need to absorb? I am resilient. I am strong. I will get through this, just as I have in the past. Also...I'm going to Taylor Swift's final concert of the Eras Tour in Vancouver with my sister and Canadian work wife a week before my surgery. I can only fathom how incredible this concert is going to be! What an amazing send-off for my shitty unwell hip (Practicing self-compassion). 

"Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit. They said babe you gotta fake it 'til you make it, and I did." - TayTay

Cute pose? or...just trying to hold my body together?

Insert inspirational quote about stormy skies making best sunsets.