Every hour, on the hour following my op, my obs were taken and recorded. Sometimes by Nursing support workers and sometimes by nurses.
These people are Angels with invisible wings. They must walk miles on an average shift, but they are invariably cheerful; nothing is too much trouble to them.
Through the night following my op, I was aware of how quiet the ward was. This was due, I think to one particular Nursing Sister. She had a soft Merseyside accent, unusual in Glasgow. When she came on night shift, and introduced herself, I mentioned that she didn’t have a Glaswegian accent.
“No, I’m from Liverpool”
“I thought so, so is my husband, which part?’
“Old Swan, your husband will know where that is. Where is your husband from?
“Tuebrook, he says they were posh because they had a garden.”
We both laughed at that - “My boyfriend’s thought I was posh because we had central heating and I had my own room.”
Her brown eyes danced above her mask. Throughout that first night, she helped me with pain relief, anti-sickness relief and getting in and out of bed to the commode. When I rang the buzzer she arrived swiftly and silently. Her soft voice encouraging and comforting me. I was delighted when she said she would be on the following night too. Before she left in the morning she popped in and asked how I was getting on.
“It was a rough night, but you definitely helped me through. Thank you.”
“You’ll feel much better today.” She smiled “I’ll see you tonight, take it easy”.
I had about 3 spoons of porridge and some fruit for breakfast. I didn’t feel like eating much. I discovered later that the colon shuts down for 72 hours post op. (Which is why I hadn’t had a poo yet!) Coffee, normally my drug of choice, tasted too strong, so I left it and stuck with water. I still felt nauseous and a bit “waffy” as they say in Cumbria.
I also desperately needed a wash. I wasn’t confident or strong enough to get to the shower, so I was washed in situ and was able to clean my teeth. My mouth had felt like the inside of a dead bear’s bum!
As you are not supposed to have an angle at the hip of less than 90 degrees, my toothbrush, toothpaste and a beaker of water were brought to me in bed. I was able to clean my teeth and then rinse without leaning forward. 10 days post op, I am still using this method. (Although I do sit at the bathroom sink now!)
Clean and fresh, with new bedding and my own nightie on, I was ready for my day. A sharp “ratatat” on the door, and in walked Mr D.
“How are you this morning?”
“A bit nauseous and sore, but better than yesterday, thank you.”
He beamed “Great, your hip was in a bad way, the cartilage was worn right down, there was a lot of fluid in the joint, and there was new bone growth appearing, it had deteriorated quite a bit since your X-ray. But you have a shiny new hip now, but you are going to have to work hard to protect it. You will feel like you’ve been kicked by a horse for a few days yet, but you must try and move as much as you can. We will X-Ray your new hip today, just to see if the alignment is correct. You’ll also start with some physio today.”
What he told me vindicated my own view of my hip. It had felt increasingly worse since the X-Ray in July.
“Thank you, it did feel more than just ‘moderate’ arthritis.”
“Won’t be long before all the pain goes, and you can get your life back. Right, I’d better go, I’ll see you later” He gave me a little wave as he left.
Physio
I’ve come to realise physio is, after the op, the single most important thing you can do. It’s hard, and you have to push through the pain sometimes, but it is VITAL, before and after your surgery. I had been following a regime of hip exercises, but something I should have spent a bit of time on was my upper body strength. When I had my foot surgery, the surgeon said that he wished all patients would do upper body exercises so that walking with crutches wasn’t so difficult. SO, if you have surgery looming, get working on your upper body strength NOW!
Sadly, my continuing nausea meant I struggled with the physio at first. Before you are allowed home, you need to be able to walk up and down stairs. I could barely walk from my bed to the bathroom with a Zimmer frame, but we would try.
2 Physiotherapists and a nursing support worker came in to help me with my first physio session. My first hurdle was to perch on the edge of the bed. As soon as I sat up and my feet dangled over the edge, I felt VERY dizzy and nauseous.
“Oh my goodness, you’ve gone very pale, you’re as white as that sheet!” Exclaimed Phil, the physiotherapist.
I laughed, “I do feel a bit waffy!”
“Waffy? What’s that?”
“Sorry, Cumbrian word for ‘bring the smelling salts’. My Mum used to say to me, ‘You look pale, do you feel pale?”
“Haha, that’s funny, I should write these expressions down.” Said Phil.
I persevered and managed, eventually, to stand up and balance on the crutches. My knees felt like they were about to buckle under me, but Phil and the other young physio were there to catch me.
“Crutches forward, then bad leg, then good leg.”
Several faltering steps later I was facing the door of my room, just as a trolley pushed by 2 cheery porters appeared.
“Room 227?”
“Yes” Said Phil.
“We have to take the young lady to X Ray.”
Phil rushed off up the corridor and returned with a wheelchair. I was manoeuvred into place and wheeled the rest of the way to the trolley, where I was hoisted up and driven off to the X ray department.
When I returned, Phil came back in to my room. “Do you think you could do some bed exercises?’
“Yes, I can try”
Bed exercises consisted of the following :
- Lying on your back and sliding your foot towards your torso x 10. I could do it, but only a bit
- Leg is flat, and you push the back of your knee into the bed. Easy, I could do that too.
- A folded towel is placed under the knee, and you lift your lower leg up and down. I could do that. so far so good.
- Legs straight and move the bad leg out to the side x 10. Nope. Phil put a piece of slidy fabric under my heel - “Try again” Nope - Not even a centimetre.
What a busy day I was having. I was quite exhausted, and settled down to read my kindle. It was a good job I had my iPad on it’s stand, because I dozed off.
I could now get to the loo on my own, using the Zimmer frame. Evidently, 20 years or so ago, a hip replacement meant you had to stay in bed for 2 weeks, lying on your back with a pillow between your knees. How times have changed!
I was watching some inane game show on TV when Mr D popped in on his way home, what long hours he must work, I mused.
“Hi Judith, just to let you know I’ve reviewed your X-Ray and it’s looking good. Perfect in fact.’
“That’s great, thank you.” I was genuinely delighted.
“Now get some rest and we will see how you get on tomorrow. You might be able to go home, but it’s a long car journey and there’s no problem if we need to keep you a bit longer.”
His prophecy proved to be correct.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Roy had been busy. He had “lost’ Lilah, one of our fox terriers, and finally found her upstairs in my studio, sitting next to my chair. She sometimes comes and sits up there with me when I’m working. Bless her. 💕
Well done honey X
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