Some of my friends have asked that I write a blog about what
happened to me this year. I feel uneasy writing about this as there are so many
others with far greater challenges in life, but I decided to go ahead and share
my story in hopes that it might help someone facing their own personal
challenge.
As I approached my 50’s I thought a sagging chin line and a few
wrinkles would be my biggest health problem, but the good Lord blessed me with
shallow hip sockets. Let’s say I had a
little work done this year except I started from the bottom. Yes Lady Gaga and
I have something in common we both had hip surgery this year, but I was really
born this way. It’s been almost a year
now in recovery since my hip was replaced. It was a long year and at times I
really didn’t think I’d get through it, but things are settling and looking better today.
I have always been
defined by my accomplishments. I worked hard and I played hard. My 8 siblings
called me wild woman when I was a kid. At 23 I moved to New York City and
started a career as a freelance illustrator. I had very little money and I was
a farm girl from the Midwest and I didn't know any better. I met my
husband that first fall in NYC. He was a chemical engineer who sold products
for Union Carbide and three years later we married and moved to Chicago.
After two years at his corporate job, he left to go back to medical school. We
had our son in his third year of medical school and my daughter in the
internship year. After his residency and three moves we settled in Milwaukee. I
thought finally after 10 years of supporting our family it was going to be my
time to have fun. And so I did. I played hard and I worked hard, that was my
moto. Everything I did was over the top, to some. I played competitive
golf, ran my own company, continued to work as an illustrator and moved on to
writing children's books, kayaked, became an avid cyclist, volunteered my time
as a den leader, and gave my talents to the local recreational theater
department, a group that my daughter became involved in, and all the things you
do as a mom. At times I felt I was running on an engine that wouldn't
stop. At times I admit I knew somehow some day I would never be able to do all
this and so I pushed hard to do everything. There was just that sense of
something coming. Then something rather odd happened. It was the winter of 2010
and I had come to pick my daughter up at a Catholic Lenten seminar. I hadn't
planned on staying, but the program was running late. I was thinking I hope I
get out of here soon I have so much to do. I proceeded to sit down in a pew and
wait patiently. The moderator said,
"I want you to turn a person next to you, they should be someone you do
not know, and ask them has your faith ever been challenged by something?"
I thought to myself well not really. Sure life wasn't the easiest for the
first 20 years of our marriage, but it didn't seem that bad in retrospect.
My answer was “No, not really.” Then everything started to change after
that.
I will preface that I struggled with back pain from 1999 to the
present. I just chalked it up to over use. After all I was hyper active and
never knew when to stop. In 2008 I had an MRI of my back. Nothing
remarkable was found. Just weak core muscles they said. So I started working
out with a friend who was trainer. I became strong, but I always hurt. For the
next few years I really challenged my body physically with exercise in various
forms. In the spring of 2011 I
started having problems with my feet and then summer came I started feeling
pains in my hips when I walked long distances. After months of hip and
back pain, and inability to walk comfortably I went to a physical therapist. After
two months she suspected I had some significant problems and urged me to see an
orthopedic surgeon. In the spring of 2012 I was diagnosed with acetabular
dysplasia. In simple terms my hip sockets were very shallow. I was born this
way and never knew it. Not knowing this, I played many sports and
participated in activities throughout my life that were hard on my joints and
subsequently my right hip finally gave out. I not only had hip degeneration,
but I had torn my adductor tendon from the femur being subluxed. I was
told I would have a hip replacement. No driving for two months after the
surgery and I would be on a walker for about 6 weeks and then move to a cane.
Everyone assured me I'd be fine. “What did you say doc? Gulp! “ After my
appointment I called my husband who was on spring break with my son and I
started to cry. I never cried very much, well maybe in a little here a there. I
was tough and I prided myself how tough I could be. The latest news seemed like
a big challenge, but I thought, “Yes I can do this, lots of people have hips
replaced.” What I didn’t know was that the challenge would be far greater than
I imagined on many levels.
My mother who was ill urged me to have it fixed sooner,
but I assured her I would need to wait until October. In August my mother
passed away unexpectedly. In October of 2012 they gave me a new hip. What I
learned after was that the hip was reconstructed not just replaced. Muscles had
shifted and tendons stretched. Things had been in places they had never been in
a long time. It was pain I had never
experienced before. At one point while lying in my hospital bed I said to a
dear friend, "Why am I in so much pain?" She said, "Linda they
cut your leg off!" "Right", I said and then we laughed. I
know an odd reaction, but you would have to know me. I still couldn’t believe I
had a hip replaced, but I excepted it and again thought, “Well, I ‘ll be okay
lots of people have hips replaced.” Things
seemed to be going as expected weeks after the replacement was a success. I adjusted to using a walker. Friends drove me
everywhere, people cooked for me, and my family did all the chores. The
things you have to do for some me time. One day I went to the town hall to
vote. I was surprised all these senior citizens and I was the only one
on a walker. I saw the humor in it and quickly made a joke. That's what I
always do, I make light of things. About 7 weeks post op I complained of
terrible back pain. Everything looked normal on the x-rays and it was weird
that I should have these pains in my back. Now I was in a wheel chair a week
before Christmas and I couldn't even stand. The pain was excruciating. An MRI
revealed that not only was I blessed with no hip sockets; I also was blessed
with early onset stenosis in my spine along with degenerative disc disease with
one herniated and the other torn. The nerves to my legs had been pinched off.
While initially they said I would not require surgery and given months of PT
and pain management procedures, they in fact deemed me a surgical candidate after
everything had failed. My hip surgeon said to me in the end of April “If it
walks like a duck, talks like a duck, it is a duck.” So I waddled in and had a
decompression and foraminectomy in mid May of this year. My medical vocabulary
has been growing by leaps and bounds.
“Wow”, I thought, this
was a lot to handle in less than a year! It's amazing what great doctors
and therapists can do for you, but ultimately it comes down to yourself for
that final recovery. Finally God I could answer you. “Yes I am
challenged! Do you hear me? I am challenged! Can you stop already?”
My approach to life has always been to face your adversity head
on and tackle it with vengeance. This was definitely full confrontation
and I knew I had no choice but to tackle it.
I had tried to prepare myself for this change. I put a bed
downstairs for the hip replacement. Made a corner of activities I could
do in bed while I rested for those many months. I made physical changes, but
the mental changes were the hardest to make. I have to admit I really
didn't feel like doing anything, but watching TV after I had the hip replaced,
but that got old really quickly. I also tried to read, but my attention span
from the anesthesia waned and the pain meds made me groggy and unmotivated. I
became something I had never been, inactive, unfocused, and unmotivated. I had
never used any drugs stronger than Aleve for pain. I always lived a clean life
and now I am on oxycodone daily. Friends and my family would make quips about
my drug behavior and of course I would laugh along, but inside I was crying. I
was so depressed. How would I ever get out of this state? I had
doctors and physical therapists helping me with the physical rehab and surgery,
but the mental part was pretty much left to myself. By the grace of the great
many friends I have, they helped me along with encouragement. Without my
friends I don't think it would have been as successful a recovery. While
I could no longer do the things I enjoyed, sports, volunteering, and doing for
others, I became incapacitated. I had to use the motorized scooters to shop and
still do occasionally. I was so humbled and insecure. Along with my
friends support, what really saved me were my artistic and creative gifts. I
always knew they were gifts, but I never really knew to what depths. I truly
feel blessed. God had given me something no one could take away. While
some would say," Isn't this terrible what you have had to go through?” I
would respond sure, but I really grew from this and it made me a better person
overall. Adversity sometimes brings the best out in people.
I was never a quitter. I always saw to the end of everything and
this is and was no exception. I still have daily struggles with pain, and
possible future surgeries, as I am still battling some orthopedic challenges in
my other hip, but now I am in a better place to handle those struggles. I
make swimming, stretching, and strengthening a daily routine. I have been able
to get off the painkillers for now, which was a big hurdle as you overcome
anxiety about possible pain that you may experience. It’s little like going
down that double black diamond ski hill. Besides, my teenagers will never let
me quit. They do not like seeing me this way. I try very hard everyday to smile
and be brave. Everyday no matter how I
feel I pick something to do creatively whether it’s making a pillow, redoing a
piece of furniture, drawing a picture, and whatever comes to my head and I go
for it. Whatever my body will allow me to do that day that is what I do. I
remember what my mother said to me in her final months, “Always look to the
person next to you their problems seem so much worse.“ Keeping perspective is
so important when you are struggling with a physical challenge.
I have always kept sketchbooks and this time I started to keep
daily sketches to pass the time, keep my brain active, and focus away from
pain. I would get into a meditative state and draw whatever came to my mind.
Prior to my surgery I was stuck in a creative rut. I tried to grow
artistically, but I couldn't. Daily life got in the way. Now I had an excuse to
be selfish with my time. I was allowed to sit and be alone. Frankly I think my
family thought it best at times to keep their distance from me. I don't want
you to picture a rosy happy atmosphere while I rehabbed. I struggled with pain,
anger, frustration, grief, and a serious case of self-pity on a daily basis.
My sketchbooks kept my sanity. Sketchbooks are usually private visual
diaries. I am now going back and reviewing them all and I 'd like to share some
of these with you.
I hope and I pray for those of my friends who may struggle that
they are too blessed with a talent, skill, or attribute that helps them cope
with their daily struggles. As my mom would say “Never waist your talents.” And
if anyone asks you, “Has your faith ever been challenged?, you might want to think about that a little
longer before you reply.
“Never to suffer would never to
have been blessed.”
No comments:
Post a Comment