It's July 4, 2008... 24 days since my surgery. I began the day yesterday using both crutches. By mid-morning (at work), I was down to a single crutch, and by lunchtime I had parked that one, as well. Whether or not that means I'm really finished with crutches remains to be seen. I really don't feel 100% stable, nor do I feel even close to 100% strong, without them. On the other hand, it does seem to be time to probe the outer limits of what I can do. Walking with crutches is essentially pain-free. Walking without them hurts.
I met a friend for lunch two days ago at Charlotte's Billy Graham Library. I decided to see if I could walk from the parking lot to the cafeteria without any help, and it seemed to go fine. I was slow and a little wobbly, but it was a good test. After lunch, my friend offered to go to my car and get one of my crutches, but I opted to limp my way back to the parking lot without assistance, except leaning on her shoulder once or twice. We passed several elderly folks on the way to the Library - even stopped to snap the photo of a man and his wife on their first pilgrimage to the site. This guy said he was 88 - he'd known Billy Graham many years earlier - and he was excited to be visiting the new Charlotte facility. I'm glad he didn't challenge me to a foot race, because he might have beaten me. I saw several people in wheelchairs and at least one using a walker. I am so grateful for this operation and the promise it holds!
And that brings up a great point: At some point yesterday, it occurred to me that I'm on what should be the final stages of a journey toward pain-free living. As I've noted before, I'm not as fast as some people at getting my mind around the obvious. Really, in the three weeks since the operation, I suppose my thinking has been more along the lines of my having traded one kind of pain (bone-on-bone, damaged hip joint) for another kind of pain (post bone-cutting surgery). Even though I'm still taking pain medication a few times daily, I do think the overall hurt is decreasing. I suppose that pain isn't going away as fast as it might if I weren't pushing myself, but I do think significant progress is being made. So, yeah, for the first time in this process I'm starting to imagine it: Moving without pain. Wow, that really would make this worthwhile! I mean, I know that's the deal I made with myself in having this surgery, but it's only now beginning to dawn on me just what that means.
So this morning, Independence Day, I went with Hettie on the dog walk - or most of it, anyway. No crutches. Toby, whom I'd mentioned earlier in this blog, accompanied me, while Hettie took the younger dogs. Despite his age and his own challenges, Toby was a bit faster than I was. Good for him!
I noticed, as I tried to increase my walking speed on the way back from the creek at the end of our street, what felt almost like a hyper-extension of my new hip. We've all done that thing where we get our knee joint on the wrong side of its intended motion; this was like that, only with my hip. It happened twice. I've never experienced anything like that before. It was pretty uncomfortable. After the second incident, during which I let out an involuntary shriek, I shortened my stride, not fully straightening my operative leg, walking with a deliberate crook in my step. That prevented a third occurrence. I don't want to feel that again. Not only does it hurt, but it feels totally unnatural and seems about one nanosecond away from popping something out of place. I'm guessing this is likely due to muscles having been weakened by the surgery and lack of use for three weeks - so I'm going to pay special attention to that in the days ahead.
So... no big philosophical musings today... just a report on the mechanics of my own independence. I did think of other July 4ths in my life this morning - as a kid watching fireworks, as a high school student working at the local country club, as a pilot on a small Bahamian island. This will probably become one of those July 4ths that stand out in my memory as time moves forward, because it's a time of significant transition toward what I am now just beginning to understand.
I met a friend for lunch two days ago at Charlotte's Billy Graham Library. I decided to see if I could walk from the parking lot to the cafeteria without any help, and it seemed to go fine. I was slow and a little wobbly, but it was a good test. After lunch, my friend offered to go to my car and get one of my crutches, but I opted to limp my way back to the parking lot without assistance, except leaning on her shoulder once or twice. We passed several elderly folks on the way to the Library - even stopped to snap the photo of a man and his wife on their first pilgrimage to the site. This guy said he was 88 - he'd known Billy Graham many years earlier - and he was excited to be visiting the new Charlotte facility. I'm glad he didn't challenge me to a foot race, because he might have beaten me. I saw several people in wheelchairs and at least one using a walker. I am so grateful for this operation and the promise it holds!
And that brings up a great point: At some point yesterday, it occurred to me that I'm on what should be the final stages of a journey toward pain-free living. As I've noted before, I'm not as fast as some people at getting my mind around the obvious. Really, in the three weeks since the operation, I suppose my thinking has been more along the lines of my having traded one kind of pain (bone-on-bone, damaged hip joint) for another kind of pain (post bone-cutting surgery). Even though I'm still taking pain medication a few times daily, I do think the overall hurt is decreasing. I suppose that pain isn't going away as fast as it might if I weren't pushing myself, but I do think significant progress is being made. So, yeah, for the first time in this process I'm starting to imagine it: Moving without pain. Wow, that really would make this worthwhile! I mean, I know that's the deal I made with myself in having this surgery, but it's only now beginning to dawn on me just what that means.
So this morning, Independence Day, I went with Hettie on the dog walk - or most of it, anyway. No crutches. Toby, whom I'd mentioned earlier in this blog, accompanied me, while Hettie took the younger dogs. Despite his age and his own challenges, Toby was a bit faster than I was. Good for him!
I noticed, as I tried to increase my walking speed on the way back from the creek at the end of our street, what felt almost like a hyper-extension of my new hip. We've all done that thing where we get our knee joint on the wrong side of its intended motion; this was like that, only with my hip. It happened twice. I've never experienced anything like that before. It was pretty uncomfortable. After the second incident, during which I let out an involuntary shriek, I shortened my stride, not fully straightening my operative leg, walking with a deliberate crook in my step. That prevented a third occurrence. I don't want to feel that again. Not only does it hurt, but it feels totally unnatural and seems about one nanosecond away from popping something out of place. I'm guessing this is likely due to muscles having been weakened by the surgery and lack of use for three weeks - so I'm going to pay special attention to that in the days ahead.
So... no big philosophical musings today... just a report on the mechanics of my own independence. I did think of other July 4ths in my life this morning - as a kid watching fireworks, as a high school student working at the local country club, as a pilot on a small Bahamian island. This will probably become one of those July 4ths that stand out in my memory as time moves forward, because it's a time of significant transition toward what I am now just beginning to understand.
P.S. Check out my ortho-doctored Yankee-Doodle image at the beginning of this post. Even some of our nation's heroes needed a little help once in a while. It's ironic the model of crutch in this image is exactly the same model I'm using some 232 years later!
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