Six Week Celebration!
Almost back to “normal”
Hard to believe that six weeks ago, I was laying on a gurney in an operating room, watching the gowned and gloved surgical team get me ready for my second surgery in 10 days. I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime of emotions in these last six weeks. Fear that somehow the joint had gotten infected, which would mean months of treatment and more surgeries. Frustration that my hip replacement wasn’t going to be the one-and-done six-weeks-and-finished that I had hoped for back at the end of March when I signed up for this “adventure.” Fear that the incision wasn’t going to close and then what would happen? Frustration that for every step forward, I seemed to go backwards a half step.
Just last week, after attempting a slow half-mile walk in a local park, I ended up in tears back at the parking lot because I could barely navigate a very slight uphill on the walking path. I worried my September and October trip to the UK would be a disaster, me hobbling with a cane, not able to hike or even stroll around London without help or frequent rest stops.
But, as my surgeon said this week, looking at the incision now almost completely closed into a nice thin car, it’s amazing how the body can heal itself from the most violent things, like cutting your hip open down to the bone and shoving in some shiny new metal and plastic parts.
Today, I walked a mile outside, using my lightweight hiking poles to make sure my gait was even and I wasn’t “humping” the surgical leg as I got a bit tired towards the end. Every day, I can feel my balance improving and the quad and glute on that left side getting stronger as I work through my PT exercises. Saturday, I drove out to the local quilt store (shoutout to Old Country Store in Intercourse, PA) and wandered around the stacks of fabrics and patterns, feeling more like a normal person than I had in weeks. I’m slowly getting back to the things I love, like cutting fabric, which involves standing upright with good balance since you don’t want to suddenly lurch sideways as you’re making a cut with that very sharp rotary cutter.
There’s still a lot of work to go, and three and a half months, before I get on that plane to London, the train to Edinburgh, the ferry to the Outer Hebrides. Today, it’s all about celebrating how far I’ve come in the last six weeks, grateful for the family and friends who’ve supported me in this harrowing journey and ready to see how strong I can be by September.
If there’s one thing I’ve been trying to learn this last six weeks (and indeed, the last 11 weeks since I realized a hip replacement was in my near-term future), it’s that worrying doesn’t do anything at all to help the situation. I’m really excellent at worrying myself into sleepless nights and horrific recovery scenarios. I’ve been trying to stop that behavior, and the quotation below has helped me a lot:
Worrying is a kind of rushing. It’s uncomfortable to sit in a state of uncertainty, so we fast-forward the tape, accelerating our lives past the present movement into fearsome imagined scenarios. (Melissa Kirsch, New York Times)
I’ve never felt comfortable with uncertainty, despite realizing that life itself is a whole long series of uncertainties and uncontrollable outcomes. My profession as a project manager taught me how to face and manage uncertainty in software and hardware scenarios, but I didn’t apply very much of that experience to my personal life. Maybe now, at the ripe old age of 70, having been through the wringer with this hip adventure, I’m finally learning to accept that uncertainty is just a part of life, one I can’t control, but worrying is something I can. Deep breathing, journal-writing, and marking small steps of progress have all helped me gain better perspective on the setbacks I’ve faced. Good lessons for the future, where I’m sure there will be lots of uncertainties and more than a few unexpected outcomes.
I loved reading this post as it really resonated. I also find uncertainty difficult. This reminded me of an experience I had at Burning Man the year the theme was Hope and Fear. There was a simple art installation that was like a roulette wheel of sorts. On the left at 9:00 was "Hope", on the right at 3:00 was "Fear", in between the two, straight up at 12:00 was "Action". I have never forgotten that message. Taking action has served me well. Anyway, glad to hear you are healing and looking forward to the UK.
Whenever I get into a worry spiral (which is often) I think about the Mark Rylance character in the movie Bridge of Spies. Tom Hank's character continually asks him why he's not freaking out about being caught as a Soviet spy, and he always replies "will it help?" with this incredibly earnest expression on his face, because he's genuinely asking if it would help. Which of course, no, it won't. I'm so happy you made it to the place where you can walk a mile, it will just keep getting better from here and then you get to go to one of my favorite places on earth: the Hebrides!