Posts Tagged ‘hip replacement surgery’
Monumental Improvement
Tuesday morning I received the most wonderful news from Cyndie as she made her way down the hall from the bedroom after waking. I expected from the sound of her voice that the message was going to be good, but she caught me by surprise with how good.
It wasn’t simply that, for the first time since her hip replacement surgery over two weeks ago, she had gotten a good night’s sleep, it was the best she has slept in years! I do believe she is experiencing the improvement that so many people have described to us after having gone through their own similar surgeries.
The pain from that old arthritic joint is gone. Her description of the improvement helps me to better grasp how much pain she has been living with, and for how long she has been struggling to endure it. As often as I witnessed her pain in person over the years, I still lacked an accurate sense of what exactly she was dealing with.
She hasn’t even enjoyed a good, full night of sleep in years. Her amazing ability to cope with it as well as she has all this time had led me to interpret it as not being that major a problem. The sudden return of the light in her eyes and joy in her voice has opened my eyes to the fact of how much her spirit and energy have been repressed for far too long.
She seems so much better now that I am wondering if maybe I should look into a lower back replacement for the days my degenerating discs make me uncomfortable. She’s doing that well!
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All Good
The hip replacement surgery was a success! The only thing that I didn’t really think to plan for was the possibility that the surgeon would be held up with a prior case that went into overtime. Cyndie’s turn started about 2-hours late.
Unlike the incredible experience we had when we went to a different hospital to have arthroscopic surgery on this same hip joint, this time they whisked Cyndie away without me for the pre-op processing. I waited and waited in the lobby until almost the appointed time for her surgery, before they finally came back for me. It was ostensibly a moment for me to wish her well and send her on her way.
I was a little confused when the nurse then brought me a chair. I sat with Cyndie while she nodded off due to the prolonged wait while snuggled inside her Bair Paws forced-air warming gown. When I sensed there was some sort of holdup, I asked if we would have any warning when our case would be allowed to proceed. The nurse adjusted a monitor so that we could see it and pointed out the status icon for the surgery Cyndie’s doctor was involved in. It was a scalpel. When he finished, the icon would change to little stitches. Then they would ask Cyndie to use the bathroom one last time before wheeling her off to the operating room.
Minutes changed to hours. Lunchtime arrived. Eventually there were no other patients but Cyndie. I started receiving text messages from supporters asking how the surgery had gone. At 12:20 I finally saw the icon change from scalpel to stitches. When they ushered me out in order to wheel Cyndie away at 12:38 p.m., I found the waiting area empty. There wasn’t even a receptionist. Apparently they don’t schedule any afternoon surgeries.
I stepped out for lunch and then killed a couple of hours alone in the lobby, the last 30-minutes pacing, until the doctor came out to give me his report. No problems, very straightforward, old joint was in very bad shape, new hip is very stable. It’s all good!
I began to get a sense that he stays focused on his immediate contribution after he stated the procedure took 1.5 hours. Obviously, there was another hour of someone’s time in addition to his work. He then said they were moving her to recovery and would come get me in an hour. Over a half-hour after he said that, a nurse came and told me they had moved her to recovery now and it would be another hour before she would be ready for me to come back. Maybe the doc forgot about the time it takes to finish things after his work was done.
By this time, it was getting dusky outside and most of the professional folks had made their exit from the building for the day. If I had to wait another hour, it was going to make me really late for getting home to tend to our animals. The nurses bent their rules and let me come back to see Cyndie in recovery. She looked good, yet out of it, and in a fair amount of pain. All completely expected.
I made it home after dark and found all our animals safe. They were very happy to see me. Cyndie made it to her room in the hospital and her parents and a brother arrived to provide support. Her brother mentioned she was “coherent, but in and out.”
The doctor told me it was going to be too late by the time she got to her room, for a physical therapy session, but they would have her up first thing in the morning. I can hardly wait to see her walking again.
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Waiting Day
This will be my waiting day. It’s the day when all the action happens, but all I can do is wait for it to be completed. My mind has been contemplating the possible ways our plan could be thwarted, and then either planning ways to avoid pitfalls or summoning thoughts of all the ways it will proceed flawlessly.
I will feed the horses, dog, and cat, and then put Delilah in her outdoor kennel for the day. We head out in rush-hour traffic for the hospital in the Twin Cities, and then I find ways to kill most of the day waiting for news from the doctor that Cyndie’s hip replacement surgery was a complete success.
Once that has happened, I leave Cyndie at the hospital with her family for support, and dash back to Wintervale to feed the horses and let Delilah out.
In a few days, I will bring her home and we’ll focus on recovery and rehabilitation. The next thing you know, she’ll be ridin’ horses or something. I’ll be happy just to see her walk pain-free again. That will be an incredible gift.
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Finally Time
Today is the last day in our long countdown to Cyndie’s hip replacement surgery. This surgery is something that could have happened a long time ago. She was directed to try a variety of alternative treatments for the arthritic joint over the years, with the intent of delaying the inevitable artificial hip for as long as possible. None of them have been as effective as we would have liked.
The time has come.
It is interesting to observe the ever-determined woman working to execute her plan of organizing everything in her life in preparation for the weeks of recovery that lie ahead, while already being virtually incapacitated by the pain and suffering that currently limit her ability to function.
We’ve operated in the mode of her recovering from a surgical procedure enough times to pretty much know the drill now. I will need to do all the driving for her for probably 6-weeks. I become full-time dog walker, which isn’t a big change, as her ability to do that has declined over the days.
Delilah is beginning to reflect the change in primary care-giver by fixating on me more often than on Cyndie. Hopefully, that will reduce her tendency to jump up on Cyndie in search of affection during the recovery period. I’ll just need to stay on my guard as the target of that energy and be sure to get her outside at frequent intervals to run around and wear herself out.
Today she can be outside watching me clear the little bit of snow that fell yesterday. We got just enough to cover everything, but hardly enough to justify plowing. Still, it needs to be removed to keep surfaces clear and safely navigable. In a few days we’ll end up bringing Cyndie home from the hospital with a new hip.
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Relative Something 