It’s been three years almost to the day when I had my first hip replacement surgery. Yes. First. My right hip is turning bionic in a couple of weeks. Since the first replacement, I’ve been able to run 15-20 km per week, bike, swim and exist upright pain free. Well, except for the right hip which has been creaking and grinding more and more for the past months.
So it’s time. Three to four months down the line I’ll be able to run again. I love running.
I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.
Day 9 post surgery. And by coincidence, my recovery period coincides with the whole #stayathome Coronavirus thing. So staying at home, not going out often isn’t such a big sacrifice for me.
Regarding the surgery: this is exactly what I was worried about and afraid of: not being able to do anything. People who’d had hip replacement surgery would go on and on and on about how awesome it was afterwards. No pain. But these were all lazy ass people who are now happy they can get up out of a chair without moaning and groaning. For an active person, it’s so not awesome. It’s boring and worse than before because now I still can’t go running, I can’t do any stretches, I’m not supposed to ride my bike, climb the stairs, walk without crutches, swim..what the fuck??! Am I being impatient? Maybe. Possibly. I have no idea how slow or fast recovery is supposed to be. There seems to be no guidance. They send you home but there’s no real plan. With babies for example, you get this little booklet that tells you what your baby is supposed to be able to do at certain times: weigh this much after 3 months, this and this at 6 months and so on.
Why doesn’t something similar exist for hip replacement? You should be able to ride your bike after one week. You should be able to not feel like theres a big fat dumpling logged somewhere in your groin on day 31. Or a vise-like grip, depending on the time of day, from day 38. Something like that.
I’m confident it will get better but this is exactly why I was so hesitant and a bit afraid. There’s no pain only the tightness and it’s just annoying and weird and worrying in the ‘is it supposed to feel like this?’ way. Reading up on the Internet is not helpful: has the joint dislocated and is on the loose? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Tomorrow I have my first of 10 physiotherapy sessions. Hopefully, she’ll be able to reassure me (she did and all is as it should be. Score!)
You’re not allowed to do this or that. It’s like this huge long list of all the things you’re not allowed to do! It’s awful. Don’t cross your legs. Don’t ride your bike, climb the stairs, lift more than 25 lbs., sleep on your side, sleep on your stomach, walk without crutches. And so on. It’s like really? Kill me now. First of all, according to my pamphlet, I am allowed to sleep on my side as long as I have a pillow between my legs. So I do. And I’ve slept on my stomach from day one because I can’t sleep any other way. Sleep is elusive. I take what I can get.
PS I know I am not supposed to be complaining in light of this insane pandemic. But hey, at least it’s a different topic. Enough of the Corona Virus reports already. Sheesh. I know! Wash hands for at least 20 seconds several times a day but especially after going out, Social distancing and literal distancing when standing in line (finally people here are not invading my personal space. Took a pandemic to teach them that? Good grief) and only go out to buy groceries. I know. There’s nothing more I can do. All the old ladies I know have mobile caregivers. And I sent out messages to everyone in the building if they need anything or want to be daring and go for a walk.
And yes, this too shall pass. We will get through this. No, it’s not going to be easy. It already isn’t for a lot of people and I am soooo fucking grateful for everything I still have and can do and will be able to do.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m totally grateful for them but don’t particularly like being in them. I had hip replacement surgery last week. A week ago exactly. I took the photo an hour or so after the surgery. So, on the road to recovery and bionic superpowers. Hopefully. I expect nothing less.
Between now and running a 10K? Months. Hell, I can’t even do my multiple times daily stretches that I’ve been doing all my life. Like seriously for the past 50 odd years. Try making do without that. Hard core. Seriously. Muscle memory and all that? Yeah, my muscles do remember and are asking what the hell is going on? why aren’t you stretching? why aren’t you doing sit ups and pushups? Arabesques? Attitudes? (I know, it sounds like I’m totally badass and not lazy. I am lazy but there was a minimum of movements I’ve done for centuries. Okay. Decades.)
I’m not allowed to ride my bike (even though I do a bit) I’m not allowed to walk without those stupid crutches (mostly I don’t use them because they’re useless and topple over when I want to take something off the shelf at the supermarket) I’m not allowed to go swimming for another three weeks. Outrage. Annoying. Bored. The few exercises I’m allowed to do according to the physiotherapist and post op brochure are lame. Takes me five minutes and doesn’t tire me out at all.
Okay. Enough of the lamenting and complaining. I just hope my bionic superpowers kick in soon. I am a very impatient patient. Luckily, my best friend Dr. Mousen is keeping me on the rails. Hobble on.
No, I’m not a cat lady but I do have two. Cats. Bertie and Lucy. Occasionally three, when Millie is here on vacation (our family cat, who has taken up residence with my son and his girlfriend). So, it’s either two or three whisketeers. And lots of cans pile up.
I have found the most environmentally friendly way of storing before these smelly yucky containers wander into the recycling bin across the street: I save water and prevent the pipes from clogging with disgusting wet cat food remnants being washed down the drain.
Here’s how and what you need:
1. Thick paper bag (I save the ones my roast chicken comes bagged in)
2. Space in your fridge (I use the fruit vegetable drawer because I store my fruits at room temperature and my veggies are usually of the frozen kind)
Empty cans do no get rinsed anymore (uses way too much water) they wander directly into the paper bag (or whatever you choose to use that seals halfway decently), then into the fridge drawer. Voilà. No smells, no leakage. When the bag is full, I carry it across the street and empty the bag into the metal cans container.
It’s genius. Saves time (I hated rinsing those cans), saves water and dishwater soap, no smells (even the washed cans emitted a faint fishy odor).
2017 war so ein scheiss Jahr aber daraus viel gelernt. Sehr viel. Schwamm drüber wobei wenn ich der Schwamm bin, hab ich viel aufgesaugt und mir entsprechenden Maßnahmen gesetzt. Es war nicht alles scheisse natürlich denn im Ausklang des alten Jahres wenn alles geschlossen hat und ich mich es zu Hause gemütlich gemacht habe, habe ich einige neue Krimi Serien entdeckt. Glacé und La Mante: beide französische Serien beide auf Netflix und beide gruselig gut.
Mehr darüber morgen meine Lieben. Ein frohes Neues 2018 🎩
Whoever stops by here needs to speak both English and German because I write in both languages. Just saying that right off the bat to avoid confusion.
I’ve been away for a while i.e. have neglected kaufmannskrimis woefully. So really this is just a note to say: I am still alive and there will be posts.
kaufmannskrimis 