I’ve been meaning to post about my hip surgery for awhile, but with all the preparation for the surgery, then the actual surgery, then the procrastination, well – it didn’t happen. My intention was to keep a daily log of my recovery. What’s that saying about good intentions? At any rate, I have a ton of stuff to relate about the pre-op weeks, the operation itself, and the post-op recovery, so this will probably end up being a multi-part post.
On February 14, 2013 I had hip arthroscopy in my right hip. An MRI had shown that I had bony protrusions on the socket of the joint and extra bone matter on the ball, as well as a labral tear in the joint itself. I also had (and still have) a cyst on the ball of the joint. The goal of the surgery was to reshape the bone on the socket, but possibly not the ball, as the cyst could cause fracturing. If the ball was too misshapen, however, the doctor would try to reshape it to the best of his ability. He would also repair the labral tear and remove any bone fragments that were floating around. He was also going to maybe tighten up the cartilage which would help reinforce the suction in the joint.
The weeks leading up to the surgery were intense. I was wrapping up things at work and preparing my staff for my absence, although I think that was more for my piece of mind than anything they really needed me to do. They are all professionals and extremely competent. And two weeks post-op, it’s clear that they barely need me, which is actually great. Yay for good hiring skills!
On the home front, I focused on cleaning and cooking a few meals to freeze, anticipating that I wouldn’t be able to cook for sometime. So far, this has worked out really well and we’ve also had the good fortune of having friends and family bring us food. I’ll talk more about that later.
We also made the decision to take Lulu to my mother’s house to stay for at least a week post-op. We thought it best since The Boy would have to do pretty much everything for me at least for the first few days, and it would probably be too much for him to deal with that, keeping up with housework, and taking care of two dogs. Since Nemo is very well trained and has severe separation anxiety, we felt it would be best to keep him with us. Again, I feel we made the right decision.
The day before the surgery a medical supply company delivered a continuous passive motion machine (CPM)
(That is not me, obvi. I’ll try to get a picture of me in the actual contraption before I have to send it back.)
The fact that the equipment was delivered right to my door was great, but beyond explaining the settings and how the equipment worked, the representative didn’t actually adjust the equipment to fit my body, aside from the crutches. I really should have asked, but my mind was so completely on cooking and cleaning that I didn’t even think about it until the day after the surgery when I was supposed to start using it. Turns out this particular rep has had several complaints from some of my doctor’s other clients. So next time I have some crazy surgery that requires crazy equipment, I will make sure to ask.
I also received a call from the surgery center the day before the surgery. I had been told that the surgery was scheduled for 7 a.m. but that it might change and the center would call me the day before. Sure enough, they pushed my time back to 12:30 p.m., asking if I could be there at 11 a.m. I was less than thrilled, since I couldn’t eat or drink anything past midnight (I ended up cheating just a *tiny* bit). The day of the surgery, however, they called at 8:30 asking if I could be there by 10. We ended up making it in by 10:15, since I still needed to shower and The Boy wasn’t even up yet.
Upon arriving, they signed me in, took my payment (holy spendy!) and after a short wait took me back to prep me. Sidenote: The Boy made me laugh SO HARD. I was so scared of “buying it” on the operating table, that I started to do the, “if I don’t wake up, know that I love you” thing, and he responded by saying, “knowing you, you’ll just explode all over everything and they’ll make me clean it up.” I said, “you’ll be so pissed at me you’ll forget to be upset.” It was actually perfect.
When they called me back, they had me take everything off and put on a hospital gown, a hair covering, and socks with grippies. I had to do the usual pee in a cup and have my vitals checked, and every time someone different came to talk to me they asked me to verify my name, birthdate, and procedure. They also let The Boy sit with me during this time. After a few minutes the doctor came in to tell me exactly what he planned to do and asked me again to verify what procedure I was having done. Then he initialed my right leg to show that he, too, had verified it. I then met with the anesthesiologist, who explained that I would be receiving a nerve block in addition to the general anesthetic and what I could expect from that. She told me it was time to start the anesthetic procedure and this was a good opportunity to say goodbye to The Boy. He kissed me and said, “don’t explode.” Classic.
They had already started the IV, and the anesthesiologist told me they were going to sedate me and then perform the nerve block. All I remember is someone asking me, “what do you do for a living?” and me laughing and saying, “I’m a librarian!” I must have been pretty goofy at that point, because the person laughed and said to someone else, “Ask her what she does for a living,” which the person did, and I was giggling helplessly by that point and repeated, “I’m a librarian.”
And that’s the last thing I remember before waking up.
NEXT POST: I END UP NOT EXPLODING
If you had surgery, would you be okay with having the procedure at a surgery center rather than at a hospital?
I was surprisingly fine with it, although my mother was NOT.