Day 0 - 2 Pre operation and getting your stuff together

 My Pre-op was on the 8th April in Glasgow, and my op was on the 12th, so 3 round trips to Glasgow in the space of a week - that’s a lot of driving! I could have done some of it, but Roy insisted he was fine, so that was that!

The Physiotherapist had rung a few days earlier. I wasn’t around so Roy had to answer the phone. When I got back he was keen to tell me he was in the process of placing an order to Amazon for a raised toilet seat, among other things.

“The physio asked me how tall you are, I said 5’10”. They need to know so you get the right height for the toilet seat!” He grinned, toilet humour is alive and well here in Kintyre. But I’m 5’4”

“If I’m 5’10” how tall are you?”

“Oh, I dunno, how tall am I?” He was looking puzzled now. 

“You are 5’10”, you twit! I’m 5’4”

He looked crestfallen, “I was just about to place the order, you’d better check it. You need a grabber and a long handled shoe horn because you’re not supposed to bend over.” He handed me his tablet and I checked the toilet seat height, changed it and clicked the ‘Buy Now’ button. 

So, you will be on crutches. 

You will not pick anything up off the floor or your new hip will dislocate! Which means:

You will not be able to put your knickers, trousers, socks and shoes on.

You will not be able to reach for anything higher than shoulder height or lower than hip height.

You should not cross your legs (You guessed it, your hip will dislocate)

You will not lie on your side, nor reach over your midline for anything. 

Hence the grabber. The long shoe horn and the raised toilet seat. At no point are you told how to wipe your bum! (Which involves twisting, reaching and potentially crossing your midline) But more on this later.

List for hospital and afterwards

1. Loose fitting nightwear and a dressing gown. Mine was too long, so a trip hazard! Just saying. 
2. Phone / tablet / book (I used the kindle on my iPad and a funky stand like the one used in zoom calls! Get one, you will be glad you did)
3. Headphones or ear plugs to block out the noise of clanging, rumbling trollies while you are trying to sleep.
4. Loose clothes for journey home. (VERY loose)
5. Toiletries. I took makeup too, and a mirror, cos I don’t even hang the washing out without my lipstick on, and these were to be the first human beings to see my face in over 5 months, so I didn’t want to frighten them!
6. TAKE YOUR OWN SHAMPOO AND CONDITIONER. I didn’t and my hair was like straw as a result of using the crappy “free” shampoo. It’s ok for washing your lala with, but don’t put it anywhere near your precious locks!
7. A comb. 
8. Supportive shoes. You won’t be able to put trainers on, probably not for weeks actually. the market for slippers is limited to sexy slide in ones that you would break your neck in, or “Granny Slippers”  I got some Mahabis, expensive, but warm, cos they re made from wool, they have a rubber non slip soul and a neoprene heel grip so they don’t slip off. (I LURVE them.) 
   
   
   
9. Your usual medication plus any supplements you take.
10. Long handled gripper for home. (My friend Leone assures me that you can’t use this for bottles of Martini; she tried.)
11. Long handled shoe horn for home
12. Raised toilet seat. I got a 4” on because I’m NOT 5’10”
13. A crutch caddy for carrying “bits” around with you - see illustrations below (small enough for a hip flask, not big enough for a bottle of gin.)
14. An adjustable stool for sitting in the shower (I have 2, one for the bathroom and one for supervising kitchen activities)
15. A slidy mat - any slidy fabric will do, or you can pay a fiver for one at the hospital. This is for when you do your physio.
16. You will be given or will have to buy crutches. Might be worth getting them in advance so you can practice with them.   
17. A lap table, essentially a tray with a bean bag underneath. Mine has a light and a hole for my gin and tonic glass.  It’s useful for crafting, balancing your meals on and in my case my iPad.
18. Something to hold those crutches in place, this reduces swearing and the need to keep calling your carer cos you dropped the bloody things on the floor again!

I bought some really nice nighties, cos normally I don’t wear one. (Ooh missus). The main problem you have is lifting your bum up to pull them down when you can’t actually lift your bum up! 

Wanna shopping list? Here you go - most are on Amazon but other retailers are available.

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

The “Signs”

The First Sign appeared in a kundalini yoga workshop. For those of you unfamiliar with the practice, you spend a lot of time sitting in “Easy pose” (cross legged), on a cushion. Except it wasn’t easy, it hurt! My right hip did not like it, and my knee was a long way from hovering above the floor, no matter how much I pushed it.  I  fidgeted and wriggled until eventually, because I was disturbing everyone else’s chanting and rocking backwards and forwards in a meditative state, I was given a bigger cushion to sit on, and a second cushion to prop up my knee. “Namaste”

Gradually this discomfort grew, walking up stairs and hills gnawed away at my hip. As a keen walker and resident of Cumbria, this was most annoying. I’d always enjoyed walks in the mountains (as long as there was “pub grub” at the end) but gradually my gradients were eroded away - along with the cartilage in my right hip!

On a girly weekend away in London, where we were celebrating our 60th birthday year, one of our little gang, a physiotherapist asked me why I was limping? 

“Am I?” 

“Yes, do you have a problem with your hip? Because you’re walking like you do”

“Yes, a bit” I lied. It hurt a lot, and I was in denial. We had all been school-friends, but this was the first time I’d seen Libby in 40 years. I had planned to be funky, and trendy, as the rest of “The Golden Girls” were skinny, sporty and quite glam. I was never sporty at school, preferring the music rooms to the hockey pitch. Nobody chose me for their netball team; I couldn’t run or catch, and found the whole experience quite scary. 

My “thing” was music (Mainly singing and playing guitar) and yoga, I was very bendy and loved the stretching and meditation 🧘‍♂️.

As a singer, songwriter, performer, whatever, I was appearing in a choral recital for Christmas 2019. I was troubled by stepping up and down onto the raisers, but watching the video back, I was appalled at the “old lady” walk I seemed to have developed as I stepped to the front of the stage to perform my solos. 🧑🏻‍🦯

2020 - Covid and Lockdown

We retired to the east coast of Kintyre, overlooking the sea and Arran in January 2018. I’d joined a wild swimming group, where we swam from the gorgeous little bay just down the hill from our home; and my husband had bought me a kayak. This was the lifestyle I had dreamed of. 

We have a large garden, and when lockdown was announced, we spent a lot of time digging and creating raised beds. I hate waste, so recycled some pallets into seed trays, using a crowbar and my right leg to rip the pallets apart. My hip did not like this and protested by stopping me joining my husband and 2 dogs on our evening walk up the hill behind our house. 

Finally, I had to try and see the GP for the pain, except there were no appointments, only phone calls. I explained what was happening with my hip, and he prescribed co-codamol and organised an X-ray. 

“You have mild arthritis in your left hip, and moderate arthritis in your right hip, We can’t do much about it at the moment, because the consultants aren’t seeing anyone, but we will put you on the list and get an MRI scan done.”

“Will I need a hip replacement?”

“Most likely, but you can do strengthening exercises to help you, and painkillers will help you with the pain.”

My bendiness meant that my ligaments were pretty slack. 3 years earlier I had major surgery on my right foot, as it had pronated so far inwards that the heel had slid towards the arch of my foot. This was partly due to slack ligaments and partly due to an old fracture that hadn’t healed properly. I had the heel fused, and held together with an “A frame” of large titanium screws. Following this surgery, I noticed my leg rolled outwards and I couldn’t hold it straight. So really, my hip was bound to suffer due to the misalignment. What I hadn’t noticed was my “wonky donkey” gait, where I rocked from side to side like Popeye the sailor-man! 

Gradually I got to the point where every step was agony. For a few days in the Autumn, I had to hold onto the walls just to move from room to room. I couldn’t get up the stairs to my music studio, so resorted to crawling up on my hands and knees. I was desperate for some relief. I joined in online Pilates classes twice a week, one run by Cameron Angus from Coney Hill Studios in Bridge of Allan - Coneyhill Studios   And one run by my good friend,  Leone Shaw Tulloch of  LST Pilates

Both of them were excellent in understanding my hip problem, and guided me through strengthening exercises. Cameron gave me some online physio therapy advice, which was a great help, but as 2021 dawned, I realised that this hip was, to coin a phrase “knackered”  

I took to walking with 2 poles, I had piled weight on because I’d gone from my average of 12 to 15,000 steps to 4 or 5,000 very slow and painful ones. Another good friend, Pat Irving taught online yoga classes and gave me some gentle movements to try and help relieve the pressure. She is in Cumbria, and is also an excellent Acupuncturist. East to West yoga studio

I had so much generous advice from friends, I’d like to also thank another school friend who gave me a Zoom assessment and some exercises, Jacqui Tudor, who had worked for years in the NHS as a Physiotherapist.

I don’t know what I would have done without these wonderful people! 

  I had scoured the internet for advice, exercises, ANYTHING that would help. I’m 61, for God’s sake, that’s far too young to have hip surgery! Surely that is something that happens to frail old ladies? 

Conclusion

I was desperate for relief, sadly the NHS were overwhelmed by Covid 19. I spoke to my GP on the phone and asked him if there was any chance of seeing a consultant and having an MRI scan.

“I’m really sorry Judith, waiting lists are at an all time high, you probably wouldn’t be seen until the summer, and then if you need a hip replacement, the current waiting list is 2 years.”

What was I going to do?