surfacing
So... I got depressed and the words turned off for a while.
I'm feeling better, but I'm still blue. My left hip has run into a complication and my recovery has stalled. I got *thisclose* to being able to walk out of my home on my own, and now I'm waiting again.
I discovered the problem right after I was cleared for full weight bearing at thirteen weeks post-op, which was in early December. My surgeon studied my x-rays and watched me walk a bit without crutches and told me I had no movement restrictions. "Don't do anything crazy," he said sternly, and I threw my arms around him.
A few days later, I did two minutes of tendus (a basic ballet exercise, sans turnout and pointe shoes) with my kitchen counter as a barre. I'd used tendus to strengthen the right hip last year. Something in my hip made a loud snapping sound, audible to anyone near me. Then it started to hurt, and then it swelled up impressively, pushing my femur outward to make room. Whoa.
I told my surgeon. He knew exactly what it was -- my psoas tendon -- and restricted me from physical therapy until further notice.
Here's the deal. There's a big muscle in the hip called the psoas. The tendon that attaches it stretches over a pelvic bone called the superior pubic ramus. When you move your hip, the tendon slides back and forth along that bone.
One of the bones cut in a PAO is the superior pubic ramus. The bone is healed enough for me to use it, but not healed enough to be normal. The tendon bumps up against the rough patch where the bone was broken and gets all upset. No walking for YOU!
The psoas tendon complication is apparently reasonably common. As the bone finishes healing over the next year or so, it will smooth out and stop bothering the tendon. I don't know how long it will take. It could be a year. It's not up to me.
This is where I got depressed.
I know I'm lucky. I avoided worse complications and my recoveries have been relatively smooth. All of my plans are still viable. I'm just not on the schedule I expected. As REO Speedwagon said, roll with the changes.
(Yeah, I know. I'd forgotten that song too. Then it popped up on a documentary TV show and it's been stuck in my head. I don't love it, but it's good advice.)
And at some glorious point in the undetermined future, I will be able to go back to physical therapy and work my ass off. Then I'll be able to walk back to the T (Boston subway) and ride home like a normal person. This isn't forever. It just feels like it.
I do hope I never forget how hard it is to be disabled, and that I find a way to advocate for those who will never get out of their wheelchairs. I haven't figured out the best way to do that, but a year and a half in a wheelchair has changed me, and my respect for people who live this way every day is crazy huge.
Okay, enough earnestness. Today's excitement: UPS is bringing me Burberry's Pale Barley eyeshadow and Rosewood lip gloss. I still want the Rosewood lipstick, but I put it off for next time. I should probably explain my love for high-end makeup, but that's another post.
(Reading these posts years later, I shake my head. I hadn't learned yet that so many cosmetics are tested on animals, including Burberry. Now I only buy makeup that isn't tested on animals. We learn better, we do better.)
I'm feeling better, but I'm still blue. My left hip has run into a complication and my recovery has stalled. I got *thisclose* to being able to walk out of my home on my own, and now I'm waiting again.
I discovered the problem right after I was cleared for full weight bearing at thirteen weeks post-op, which was in early December. My surgeon studied my x-rays and watched me walk a bit without crutches and told me I had no movement restrictions. "Don't do anything crazy," he said sternly, and I threw my arms around him.
A few days later, I did two minutes of tendus (a basic ballet exercise, sans turnout and pointe shoes) with my kitchen counter as a barre. I'd used tendus to strengthen the right hip last year. Something in my hip made a loud snapping sound, audible to anyone near me. Then it started to hurt, and then it swelled up impressively, pushing my femur outward to make room. Whoa.
I told my surgeon. He knew exactly what it was -- my psoas tendon -- and restricted me from physical therapy until further notice.
Here's the deal. There's a big muscle in the hip called the psoas. The tendon that attaches it stretches over a pelvic bone called the superior pubic ramus. When you move your hip, the tendon slides back and forth along that bone.
One of the bones cut in a PAO is the superior pubic ramus. The bone is healed enough for me to use it, but not healed enough to be normal. The tendon bumps up against the rough patch where the bone was broken and gets all upset. No walking for YOU!
The psoas tendon complication is apparently reasonably common. As the bone finishes healing over the next year or so, it will smooth out and stop bothering the tendon. I don't know how long it will take. It could be a year. It's not up to me.
This is where I got depressed.
I know I'm lucky. I avoided worse complications and my recoveries have been relatively smooth. All of my plans are still viable. I'm just not on the schedule I expected. As REO Speedwagon said, roll with the changes.
(Yeah, I know. I'd forgotten that song too. Then it popped up on a documentary TV show and it's been stuck in my head. I don't love it, but it's good advice.)
And at some glorious point in the undetermined future, I will be able to go back to physical therapy and work my ass off. Then I'll be able to walk back to the T (Boston subway) and ride home like a normal person. This isn't forever. It just feels like it.
I do hope I never forget how hard it is to be disabled, and that I find a way to advocate for those who will never get out of their wheelchairs. I haven't figured out the best way to do that, but a year and a half in a wheelchair has changed me, and my respect for people who live this way every day is crazy huge.
Okay, enough earnestness. Today's excitement: UPS is bringing me Burberry's Pale Barley eyeshadow and Rosewood lip gloss. I still want the Rosewood lipstick, but I put it off for next time. I should probably explain my love for high-end makeup, but that's another post.
(Reading these posts years later, I shake my head. I hadn't learned yet that so many cosmetics are tested on animals, including Burberry. Now I only buy makeup that isn't tested on animals. We learn better, we do better.)