Shards Full of Irony

I patiently awaited my 12 week post operative appointment like a pregnant woman longing for her 20 week ultrasound.  I needed the all clear.  Not only did I need to see the giant chunk they'd carved out of my femur was healing, but I wanted to be told that I could start safely weight training and increasing my fitness level again.  If weight training went well, it would be the precursor for running. 

My femur still looks like a gremlin took a jagged bite out of an apple.  But my surgeon reassured me that was normal and things were healing beautifully.  He pulled up the before and after x-rays to let me see for the first time exactly what he'd done.  "See how your bone pre-surgery looks like an electricity pole?"

"Um, sure.  It's definitely sturdy."

"Yeah, that's bad.  Your bone around the socket should look like an hour glass.  So if you compare the before and after you can see how much bone I took from you."  He laughed.  "You are definitely a few ounces lighter!"

My post operative x-ray looks like Barbie's hips.  She's got the curves...

While things are healing well, I've been completely miserable for the last 3 weeks.  Both hips ache and burn.  At night when I sleep, they throb incessantly with a persistent piercing pain.  I've complained weekly to my physical therapist, asking what I am doing wrong and what I can do to fix it?  But nothing helps.  I've pulled way back on physical activity, but things remain inflamed.  While rotating the joint around the socket, my surgeon was shocked by the level of irritation.  I cringed as he circled my knee around and around, measuring my mobility. 

As a comparison, he checked the other leg.  When he rotated my knee inwards I yelped.  Somehow, my left hip joint deteriorated faster than my right.  For about a month now, driving and sitting have become increasingly difficult.  While my right hip can finally handle a 45 minute drive up the mountains to visit the in-laws, my left side didn't want to risk being left out of the burden.  Without knowing it, I've been pampering my left leg, altering my stride as I walk to handle the impact on two broken hip joints.

Repairing muscles applies a lot of pressure to the sockets.  Just like physical therapy made my right hip worse, the act of healing my right hip post operation, is killing my left.  I knew this could happen but the reality of it is inconceivable.  "Once I hit the 12 week mark I will be halfway.  It will be smooth sailing from there."  I am not halfway anymore.  I am less than a quarter of the way to full recovery. 

The doctor took an x-ray of my left hip.  It's the same giant pole, marked with a nice peppering of bone material that's been scraped clear of the joint.  The shards sit near the socket, evidence of bone on bone abrasion.  "I'm really sorry, Jen.  I know this isn't what you wanted to hear today, but I can't allow you to run, or do anything until we fix your left hip.  This is a congenital defect and I warned you, your chances were quite high that both legs would need to be operated on, we just didn't predict it would be this soon.  Your condition is significant.  Just 1mm of extra bone can make people miserable, yours is quadruple that."

He put me on a large dose of anti-inflammatory drugs to try and settle things down on both sides for the next two weeks.  The next step will be to get an Arthrogram MRI on my left hip to see what the damage looks like on a tissue level.  Because I love 7 inch needles, I am really looking forward to it...  He told me not to worry too much about things yet.  I don't have to schedule it now, but the sooner I do, the sooner I can get back to a normal life.  "Take some time to think about it.  This is major surgery.  What I did to you was just short of a hip replacement.  I know this wasn't easy on your kids, and you've worked really hard.  I want to you be active again and pain free.  Once a labrum flares up, sadly there's not much we can do except surgery to permanently fix the bony bumps.  Because your left hip is weak, it will affect how well your right one heals."

Obviously, if I rehabilitated my right hip and finally earned the spot at a starting line, I would be crushed if I had to pull out because my left hip failed.  Honestly, I'm relieved it's rearing it's ugly femoral head now.  Had I run a race and consequently needed surgery on the left hip afterwards, I would question my sanity of trying to ever run again.  This proves it is genetics, not running, that's caused it.

I'll get back out there, it's going to be longer than I expected.  But when I hit the trails again, for any distance, the victory will be sweet.


~Roadburner

Shubeez some Motivation

Six weeks post operation checkup.  I laid down on the examination table waiting for my surgeon to flex my leg in multiple directions.  The movement was painful, but I expected as much since my physical therapist checks my range of motion every Thursday morning.  When he moved my knee upwards and away from my hip I cringed.  "Wow, Jen.  Seriously.  You look amazing!  How is it possible that your range of motion is this good?  You are six weeks into a six month recovery, but I would swear you were a month further at least."  I starred at him struggling with the idea that my range of motion was that good.  When people twist the joint, it feels like they are tearing my joint away from the flesh.  Next he pushed against my knee at different angles and told me to resist the pressure.  "You have been working hard.  There is no doubt about that.  I don't need to ask you if you are following your physical therapy plan.  You are strong; unbelievably strong."

Then he pointed at my shoes and laughed.  My friend Monica gave me "Shubeez" for my laces almost a year ago.  I have one for each foot, 26.2 and Boston.  Running Boston has always been a goal and wearing these simple reminders on my laces have provided just enough motivation over the past year.  Insecure, I commented on his gesture, "Is that dumb?  I clearly haven't learned my lesson."

"Learned your lesson?  I hope you have learned your lesson.  You are working incredibly hard and I hope that you have found new motivation.  Don't count yourself short.  You have a long athletic road ahead of you.  There have been no setbacks.  The surgery went better than we could have expected, and you are healing like a champ.  There is absolutely no reason to think you can't run marathons again, and this time, you are going to Boston!"  My surgeon smiled.

"So it isn't overzealous that I have a race scheduled for this May?  I just haven't found the heart to ask for a refund yet."

"Nope.  You will be ready.  And this time you will be stronger than ever before.  I know that for a fact because it is only my elite athletes who heal this well."

I walked out of his office with a new sense of confidence.  My smile radiated throughout the building.  He was right.  I've earned a new level of motivation from this experience.  Each day is a new accomplishment based on the perseverance and patience of the day before.

Day 1, Smile.  Keep my sense of humor.  Learn to go potty without help.  Stay on passive motion machine and calf squeezing machine 24/7.

Week 1, Rest, stretch, and stay calm.  Continue using machines.

Week 2, Ride a stationary bike with no resistance everyday, slowly.

Week 3, Learn to stand up without help while spreading 50% of my weight on each leg.

Week 4, Loose the crutches, brace, and machines.  Get back in the pool twice a week for 20 minutes.  Start lifting free weights.

Week 5, Walk my kids to school at least one way everyday.  Start adding a little resistance to the stationary bike increasing the time from 15 minutes to 30. 

Week 6, Pump up the resistance on the bike, increase the time to 45 minutes, and add more strength exercises to my right leg.

Slowly, I am getting stronger.  I tire quickly but I embrace the work like never before.  As lactic acid builds in my quads and glutes, I don't pull back.  I breathe in deeply and I envision how desperately I miss running, how devastated I felt after being told I had the hip of an 80 year old woman and I may never be able to run again.  I listen to my body much closer, resting, icing, massaging when necessary.  I alter my exercise routine constantly to create more balanced muscles.  My scars aren't pretty but they are a wonderful reminder of who I am.  I went from being told I may never run again, especially distance events, to being told the best is yet to come.  Yes doctor, that new motivation is profound.  


~Roadburner