Sunday, 18 April 2021

The Decision - Goodbye to Mrs Whippy

Mrs Whippy - our beloved Mercedes motorhome had stood mostly idle on the drive since March 2020 because of the Covid 19 pandemic. We had acquired hens in May, so even if lockdown hadn’t been imposed on us, we weren’t able to just pack up and go whenever we felt like it. 


In August, my daughter and I went on a little road trip to Yorkshire by way of Rosslyn and Northumbria. Although restrictions were slacker then, Covid was still with us. We had spent a few days together every year since we bought Mrs Whippy, and enjoyed our girly trips exploring England and Wales. Neither of us imagined this would be our last trip in her. 😥







In September, my husband and me, plus our 2 fox terriers embarked on what was to be our  final trip. Hens were being “chicken sat” by friends who had travelled up from Cumbria to stay in the house while we were away, 

Little did we know that Mrs Whippy would provide the solution to my hip problem.  

In December, a new wave of Covid swept the UK, and although we all thought we would be spending time together at Christmas, this was severely curtailed. 




In February 2021, my hip was BAD! I walked with 2 sticks for 20 minutes and that was it! I carried on with my classes, but was finding it increasingly difficult to move. I had embarked on a weight loss programme in order to reduce the strain on my joints and had successfully shifted several kilos. But I had to CRAWL upstairs to my music studio, where I record, mix and master songs, and teach singing and music. Sometimes the pain was so bad, and the painkillers so powerful, that I couldn’t work. 

I had suffered enough! My quality of life was being destroyed. Everything I had previously enjoyed was fast becoming a distant memory. I spoke to Roy about the possibility of “going private” and talked to my friends Leone and Mhairi about their experience of the BMI hospital in Glasgow. 

The funding for this procedure was either to come from our savings, or by selling Mrs Whippy. She was sitting forlornly on the drive, being started up every couple of days, and driven a few yards to stop her from seizing up like me!

Time to be pragmatic about this. Waiting lists for non-essential surgery were growing. Covid 19 was killing people in their thousands every week. I put my misgivings to one side and agreed that Mrs Whippy would have to be sold. The NHS was under immense pressure, and my dodgy hip might not be sorted out for years!

When Mrs Whippy was collected by the motorhome dealer, I hid upstairs in my studio because I couldn’t bear to see her being driven away. Once the money was in the bank, I rang the GP and asked to be referred privately.

Within a week of the phone call, I had an appointment. We drove the 3.5 hours to Glasgow, taking a flask and sandwiches because nowhere was open for lunch. Glasgow, that normally bustling city was eerily quiet. 

Once we arrived, we were directed to a “gatehouse” where a masked woman in hi-viz handed a clipboard and pen through the window, I had to fill in a Covid questionnaire and hand it in at reception. Roy, my rock, my logical, scientific, analytical husband, had to stay in the car. I was on my own now! I didn’t like this one bit! 

At reception, where I had to wear a disposable mask as opposed to my own, my temperature was taken by something resembling a bar code reader. It was normal. My heart rate wasn’t.

“Mr D...is on the 2nd floor, will you be taking the stairs or the lift.” A pause..”The lift is over there”.

I sat in the waiting room for a few minutes until my name was called. Mr D was charming, and personable. As I walked to his consulting room, he walked backwards ahead of me so he could assess my gait. My Wonky Donkey, Popeye gait. Which indicates, evidently, that the gap between the head of the femur and the socket have worn down.

 ( More here, I’m no expert so will always send you to the people that know what they are talking about!) https://journals.lww.com/jbjsjournal/Abstract/1971/53020/Walking_Patterns_of_Patients_with_Unilateral_Hip.6.aspx

A few questions, mainly from Mr D, some exercises and then the choices:

“You have 2 choices, you can have steroid injections into the joint and the bursa to reduce inflammation, Or you can have a hip replacement operation.”

(Oh Roy, where are you when I need you?)

“How long do the injections last?”

“A few months, then you have to have another, then another. But the effects diminish over time. They do offer temporary relief, but the problem is still there.”

I mulled this over - “Ok, what about hip resurfacing?”

“It only works on fit young men, because they have strong joints and bones, so I wouldn’t offer that to you.” He replied. He smiled with his eyes, kindly.

I paused for a minute allowing the impact to settle in.

“What if I lost some weight, got as fit as I could and had the injection?”

“It would certainly help, every stone you are carrying is an extra load of 3 stone on your hip joints. Plus the more you move and do aerobic exercise the fitter you will be for surgery.’

‘What if I had the injection, went on a fitness regime and then had the surgery? When could you perform the operation?’

“I have availability on the 12th April?’

That was 6 weeks away. I’m sure I could lose some weight for then.

“What would it cost? If  I decided to go ahead?’

“Around £13,000. Depending on the type of joint.”

I took a deep breath. What would Roy say? I was lost without him, and felt I wanted to talk to him first, but at the same time, I wanted my life back. 

“Ok, please can I have the injection and will you book me in for that date?’

“ Yes. I will get the injection now”

That was it! Decision made. I limped back to the car. Luckily Roy was in full agreement that I had made the right decision. The money was in the bank. Enough for 2 hips.

We stopped for fish and chips on the way back at Loch Fyne Fish Bar in Tarbert (Oh God, they are SO good!) I haven’t had chips since. By the 11th of April, 6 weeks later, I had lost another 6 kilos.

It is very important to try and get your BMI below 30. It is also important to MOVE - A  LOT!

Take painkillers, supplements, anything to help you move.

I built up to 30 minutes a day on the exercise bike, while singing my vocal exercises and watching the chickens scratching about. I could walk up the stairs by the time the date came round for my surgery. I could march along with 2 sticks at quite a fast pace, and had climbed up the hill behind the house several times. I continued with my Pilates and yoga classes, and did stretches before I got out of bed every morning. I didn’t look a single carbohydrate in the face for 6 weeks. I followed a regime of intermittent fasting; delaying breakfast most mornings until 11.00 am. 

Sheer bloody mindedness got me through! My eye was on the prize and I didn’t falter once. I read the 3 books below, and devised my own regime where I took bits from each one to suit. Everyone is different. My regime worked for me. It was drastic and fast, because I needed results. 

3 books helped:

The How Not to Die Cookbook

The Fast 800 Diet

Eat to Beat Disease


Pre-Surgery Advice From Versus Arthritis





1 comment:

  1. You've inspired me to get on and get mine done I've been putting it off for 5 years and it's starting to be a real pain (ha ha) Can't afford to go privately so i will be at the mercy of the nhs ! X

    ReplyDelete

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