One crutch, two crutches, one leg, two legs.

I think I am staging a mini rebellion. A week and half a go I went off the physiotherapist at my local hospital.  The physio was nice enough but it became clear that I was the youngest hip replacement patient she had meet by some years.

She said I was to stay on two crutches till the consultant. Considering she was sceptical I was meant to be fully weight bearing on the leg and she struggled with why someone so young would need complex surgery, I decided to ignore her. I took on board the extra exercises and some stretches she gave me. Also the critic of me swinging me right foot out when I walk, I try to remember this but it is a habit of a life time.

The exercises I have been doing are going well, although Mr Gin trying synchronised exercises did mean a massive amount of giggling and general silliness.  The amount of movement I am getting every day is getting better and better.

So, back to the ignoring. I have been using one crutch in the house. This all of a sudden makes being in the house on my own so much easier! Being able to carry a bowl to the table to make my own breakfast is bliss! It makes so many things easier, and far less frustrating. Being able to fetch and carry even with one hand is immensely satisfying. Also it is more tiring because I am putting much less weight through the crutch and making the legs work harder.

If I have something at hand to steady myself, I tend to abandon the crutch, using bench tops and drawers instead.  This has meant I have cooked some full meals and getting dressed in the morning is a bit less hit and miss and giving and just wearing what was on the floor.

The two crutches are being used in the outside world, I am still very afraid of being knocked over and London is a busy town with lots of people who don’t look where they are going. Two crutches does tend highlight I am there. (Also the colourful language.)

I am not abandoning the crutches completely, not until I see Mr Hutt. I have a lot of questions for him, including the time frame for getting rid the blasted crutches. I will be so pleased went I will be walking around on my own two feet.  After that… running… maybe.

And for those counting, we have gone past five weeks since cutty, cutty, slicey slice.

Adventures in London

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. – Samuel Johnston

Well, I am not tired but it is interesting to navigate when you are a bit nervy of being knocked!
When my mother started shoving me out the front door it was just trips up the road and then buses. London buses are not too bad as long they come close enough to the curb and if they don’t the lower the bus you are feeling brave enough to ask if they have not. (All buses should lower or kneel but be aware they need to close the door to lower them.)

Our first big trip was to the Houses of Parliament, done as close to her departure date as we could so I could go with her (three weeks post operation). We had teed up a wheelchair for the tour and figured buses were the best route.

On the day though, I realised that I had to deal with the tube sometime and just buses was going to take FOREVER! Normally we would take the Victoria Line but changing onto the circle and district would be problematic with steps, escalators and lots of people. Mr Gin suggested the Jubilee Line because we can get there via bus and we would start at Stratford which is the start of the line and easy to get a seat. The added bonus is that a lot of Jubilee Line has step free access and the Westminster stop is very close!  The TFL journey planner is pretty good but really gets confused that buses do terminate at the Stratford Bus station and if should not take looking up the route map to work out which bus goes all the way! I should write them and tell them this.

So, off we went. The first buses were easy, seats found down stairs easily and then rode all the way to the end in Stratford. Then it was a measure of stubbornness as we went into the station and not ducking around people and staring people with strollers down as they attempted to use the baby carriages as a battering ram. We took the road of least resistance and got on the train that was leaving in five minutes even though people where running for it and the train on the adjacent platform was going before it.

The journey to Westminster was uneventful. Getting out of the station was a bit of adventure as it did take three lifts and the middle one was not that well labelled but we found it in the end.

We had lunch and then headed to Parliament house. Once we were through security, which I was quite nervous about this, I was not that stable and really did not want to have to walk through the metal detector unaided. It was apparent the security team was well versed in this sort of situation and my crutches were whisked away, x-rayed, given back to me and I hobbled through the arch. I was then patted down and when I said I had surgery, I was asked what and were and they were gentle over the operation site!
Once we were in we got a a wheelchair! Joyce was in charge of driving me in the chair with me hanging onto my crutches. This has to be one of the funniest experiences I have had. Mum has never pushed a wheelchair and there was a lot giggling.

The Houses of Parliament are not the most accessible place on earth. And the first part of the tour was up some stairs. The guide organised someone to show us how to get there and off we went on a round about way through carpark, past ATMs and in some tiny lifts that required some odd manoeuvring to get the three of us in.  These lifts produced the most giggling as there was dodgem car like motions to get the car in.

The tour was very good and generally accessible except some moments, not being able to roll through the House of Lords or Commons but we did get to see other places the rest of the tour missed.
We also had afternoon tea and the same routine happened and we saw different parts of the House.

We returned home through the rush hour and that was a bit more of a challenge and although I got a seat, my mother had to stand for a few stops on the tube. We fared better on buses.
All in all it was a success and London showed us her best.

After my Mum left Mr Gin was put in charge of getting us to a Hen and Stag night in heart of London. At 4 weeks post operation and with Mr Gin leading the charge, I was ready to attempt the most vital obstacle to defeat when travelling in London. The Escalator!

So, off we went bus, train and into Liverpool Street station with lots of people heading out and escalators. We waited till it was a little quiet, as much  as it can be on Saturday night. And then off we went! It was quiet anticlimactic, in truth, stepped on and off, with a little wobble. Mission success.
I am glad I'm in London though, if I was reliant on a car I would be more house bound than I am already. Certainly not tired of London, yet.

Pills and Potions

When I left the hospital there was an enormous amount of pills and potions to take. From anti- inflammatories to hard core opiates. (Pictured above.)

But as many people have said this is major surgery and when you have had some of the largest and hardworking muscles cut, it is going to hurt!

And I have spoken about blood clots and the needles.

Yesterday we reached a milestone, the end of the needles. Mr Gin, my hero, is just as pleased as me to see the end of these! 30 days of the ‘stabby’ alarm, of the stabby dance and injections that hurt to tears and ones that were prefect. As time moved on the time for the injection was later in the evening and sometimes we were out. We did injections in disabled toilets, sitting at pub tables and at dinner table.  So goodbye needles!

The other thing is a lot of the pain meds are being cut down. I started with tramadol at least three times a day and oral morphine at night and the full does of Naproxen. I have cut back the morphine to a point it is a very rare occasion it is needed. I have two Tramadol free days! I am heading out today and may need one but I am now taking it on a needs basis. (The huge plus side to the drop in opiates is my digestive system is slowly getting back on track!)

I do throw paracetamol in to the mix as paracetamol is a wonder drug as far as I'm concerned. It gives a kick to everything, especially opiates. Tramadol has a longer life span when paracetamol is added (and same with morphine).
So, frankly I am pleased with this. The next goal will be giving the Naproxen a kick but the muscles get too heavy and stiff without them.
Goodbye needles! Now waiting to see the surgeon to see what he thinks, roll on the 1st of March.

Being cautious.

Today was a bit of a bust.

As I mentioned yesterday I slipped a bit heading into my WI meeting, and as the crutch went in a direction that I didn't I tried putting the foot of my operated leg through a flag stone. Twice.
It was pretty sore by the time I got home and yesterday the bone felt tender. A very different pain to anything that I have had besides when the joint was sore, pre-op style. Morphine help sleeping but last night it was very ouchy.

This morning I called the OEC and they felt that it should be looked at and there was a suggestion to head to St Georges A&E department but to be honest the cab fare would have been very expensive and tube would have been difficult. I figured if I went to my local hospital, Whipps Cross, if it looked bad I could go to St Georges.

Off to X-ray

So, off I went. I bought a sandwich and drink with me, knowing it was going to be a long wait.
All in all it was not too bad. The A&E is tucked away but it is a new building and the staff on point.
A number of x-rays were ordered (and everyone being surprised with my wonderful yoga pants with no metal bits) and then the nurse practitioner and the consultant had a look at the films. They felt there was no evidence of movement of the implant and there was no evidence of breakage or cracking of the bone. They have sent the images to St Georges to have a look at on Monday, just in case. The consultant was good, and said that he understood why I was being so cautious, so that is good.

So about four to five hours in A&E and me being very cautious, it seems it is okay and the pain is just from jarring the bugger.

Tonight I am going to romantic movie with Mr Gin. Deadpool.

Sometimes, you just need your mum.

It is hard to believe that I have had a new hip for four whole weeks.

Today has a bit lonely and tough, my Mum went back to Australia on Tuesday.

We had a lovely morning Tuesday, getting up ridiculously early so she could take photos out the front of our house of Mr Gin and me. After she finished packing we went off to have lunch, trying to locate Eggs Benedict in our part of East London. This was successful and we had a little wander around a market and then home to get organised to put her in a taxi.

Mum submits to a selfie with a crazy tiger hat lady

Once she left the house felt immediately empty. When my Mum offered to come over, Mr Gin and I discussed it and said if she wanted to she was more than welcome. I think that was one of best decisions we made during this process.

I am close to my mother, and as I have lived in the UK for over a decade we don’t see each other often. We do speak at least once a week and generally email and what’s app a fair bit. She was driving force during all of my surgeries as a child and was there for other medical bits in my 20s. Her statement was “I was there for the others, I can be there for this one.”

Her support was invaluable, neither Mr Gin nor I have family near by, we have a great circle of friends but having Mum around was something different. She helped around the house, putting on TEDs, dishwasher duty, letting the cats in and out, nagging me to my exercises, suggesting walks and on the bad days, letting me sleep and then finding something for me to do to break the black dog creeping. She helped me finish the quilt and helped plan out a new one.  She also did a bit of cooking, pulling out old family favourites, considering she does not cook often (my Dad cooks most of the time). She bought over Australian snacks, my favourite chicken Twisities and Tim Tam biscuits as well as ingredients for a 1970s classic, Apricot Chicken.  All this help was a god send for Mr Gin, removing some of the jobs that needed doing as I recovered to a point of being able to help as well. Mr Gin has been working full time through a lot of this caper and picking up the slack of my role in our little household.

The most important bit was her company, we chatted about many things, the past, the future and cats. There was a lot of giggling. It is something we have done for a long time. Odd things set us off, generally her telling me that my father would not approve of something. One of the funniest moments was icing tarts and there was chocolate icing all over the place and Mum doing impressions of Dad.  We have not sat around chatting for a long time, I was very grateful for the time. When in London in the past, her and Dad, have been tourists and this time it was more like when I visited home when living in Melbourne.

I am now pottering around the house on my own, which is fine but I would not have been able to this in first couple of weeks.  Melbourne to London to look after a family member is rather a wonderful thing, and we were lucky that Mum was able to do it. She did say it was better to come than being in Australia worrying.
She is back home with Dad and I miss her, I am happy enough pottering around by myself and leaving things for Mr Gin but that cats are not quite as good at conversation as Mum.

The other part that is tough is that last night I went out to my Women’s Institute meeting which was great fun but going into the meeting my crutch slipped, causing me to stamp down on my operated leg. It feels like the femur has been jarred slightly. Morphine was back on the night time routine, disappointingly. Thankfully it is not as bad as it could be as the amazing R drove me home after the meeting, I had got there by the tube but that is another story!

Quilting for the win.

Mum trims the binding.

Three weeks! 

Crunchy hip was evicted with extreme prejudice by a fellow named Hutt! There is a movie in there, I am sure.

I have a couple of in depth posts in my head and have started some. So, looking forward there will be a post about the actual exercises I do,  medication adventures, packing your bag for a hip replacement , hacks for stopping your crutches falling over and hopefully a video on putting on TEDs!  

The reason for lack of real post today is my mother and I have been doing some sewing and have almost completed a patchwork quilt. When she offered to come over to help out for a month, Mum asked if there was a project I would like to do. I wanted to finish a quilt that I started three years ago. It has been waiting for this time it feels. It was pieced together, I had wadding and backing but do to not being confident, I was yet to assemble it.

Once I was feeling better and bit more mobile, Mum got us moving and taught me to put it together and then we quilted it and today the binding went on. I am very proud of it. 

The big bonus is that if I am sewing, I have to move around. Using the machine is not too bad but have to be careful with the angle I use the pedal. My mother is a master quilter and she was more than happy to help and get me moving to finish it. It is a bit of rough and ready, not really straight but prefect for a snuggle quilt and being dark, if there is a red wine spill, it will be okay.

Exercise, buses and a Fern named Fenchurch.

So, a bit of a mobility and sociability update.

I have been home for just over two weeks, my mother with me for pretty much all the time. She goes home next week. We have had a great time, given the circumstances and she has been a boon with doing washing, tidying, a bit of cooking and a lot of keeping me going. There has been some down days, generally coinciding with a lack of sleep and feeling generally overwhelmed. She lets me sleep in but not too far and nags about exercise.

The first adventure outside was after being inside for a few days, three I think, and generally going a little batty. We headed for the end of the street. About a 200 to 300 metre walk. Thankfully with a lot of fences to sit on.  We got to the corner and added on an extra 100 metres to the local small Tesco.   There were at least five stops each way and a long sit down when I got home.

The walks have slowly got quicker and with less stops. We have also attempted buses. One day we met Mr Gin and had lunch. That day almost killed me even though there was very little walking and a lot of stops.
The las bus trip up into the same area meant no stops to the bus stop (Tesco) and slowly wandering to the butchers, Pound shop, stopped for coffee and then to the large Tesco for groceries then lunch, then bus home. This was the most I have done and really the pace is picking up really well.

We have been to the pub a couple of times, taking a taxi (there was a birthday celebration I was not missing out one for the world), and having to be fairly blunt to get through the tight spaces in the crowded pub. Mum and I also went to the cinema in a shopping centre, on a weekday was quiet but after the film was crowded and people are really not switched on to moving for people who are not that nimble. There were points I was doing well not to batter people texting with my crutches!

The mobility of the joint is improving, I am doing my exercises and the improvement is amazing, I can do some movements I have not done since I was in my 20s! Amazing.  I am still using my helping hand/grabber to put on trousers and undies but can pick up a cat off the floor, which is spooking them! The exercises are from the physiotherapists and designed to gain better mobility in the joint. There are lying down ones and standing, almost ballet bar exercises.

There are improvements every day, I stand well unaided and sometimes forget to grab my crutches but my muscles remind me.

The other bit is I have had visitors, and those visitors have been very, very welcome. I love my mum but we do need to see other people so we don’t kill each other! I think there have been five different visits, from one to multiple people.  R and S arrived with a fern (now named Fenchurch) and M dropped past as well on the first day of visitors. This was lovely and it was a much needed mood lift.  H and T rolled up for a Saturday dinner and we sat and played board games and drink a bit of red wine. Then Mr Gin had to go off to a hospital appointment and Mum went with him, leaving me potentially in the house on my own. But M bought around some had sewing and the K, M, N and R came later. M had bought the most wonderful lunch, her Japanese comfort food that was wonderful and beyond tasty. N bought an orchid and K and M provided sugar and R astounding brownie cookies. E came over this week for a quick but lovely visit.

All these visits have been just wonderful and either filled in the days or given me something to look forward to. (The fact there was food and presents were just lovely and wonderful surprise.) I am isolated with not really being able to use the tube and buses being a bit of an adventure if the driver does not lower the bus. Visitors are a bit of a boon!

All in all things are going well.

Two!

It is a two day.

Two weeks since the operation and this means that the dressing came off! Well, Mr Gin gingerly peeled the amazing water proof dressing to reveal… Do you really want to know?  Skip the next paragraph if you don’t want to.

… A surprisingly clean cut. The old scar is gone, and the cut is not the same as I have seen on line, not a clean curve. A bit more angular and not as far into my bum muscles as I thought. It looks clean, a bit scabby and a couple of points I suspect will keloid later as well as the ball point marks left by the surgeon.

Bed Board from Amazon plus my hand for a bonus!

The other two, is the second shower in my own bathroom. I bought a bath board and we use it make transfer into our shower over the bath easy. I cannot lift my leg over the bath edge. Mr Gin, again a hero and helps get my leg into the bath and makes sure that I'm safe and not going to attempt my own stunts.

A shower is a wonderful thing, I have been ‘bird bathing’ for a week and a half and not really felt that clean. Washing my hair! Dandruff be gone!  Even though I can’t shower on my own, mainly this is all of us being careful and it has to be at night, I don’t care! Shower!

My Mum has also passed the two week mark of her stay, I will be forever grateful for her coming over!

Be a dear, and pass the morphine, please.

This weekend there was little change in my routine.
Normally it has been a sponge bath as I am not keen on leaping into the shower over the bath at the moment, and then a lot of giggling as my mother has put on my teds. (the stockings to fight blood clots.)
This Saturday, there was a lie in and my mother was down stairs watching the Women’s single finals for the Australian Open.  So, Mr Gin and I decided to wash my hair, something that I have not done since I left hospital. I have a buzz cut, so this is not as bad as it seems and I thankful for the failure of hair dye that resulted in the extreme, easy care haircut.
So, there was leaning over the bath and Mr Gin rinsed out my hair and halted any head long efforts into the bath. Although during this time, he did utter the words, “That is a huge bruise behind your knee.”  He showered whilst I sponged down with my squeaky clean hair.  Then after I dried most of myself, Mr Gin did my lower legs.

Then we got dressed but not before Mr Gin, put my TED stockings on, using the plastic bag method and his strength to make is a very quick effort.  Of course, the mystery bruise was photographed. The final bit was putting on my slippers.

So, why am I telling you this? Because, although, this is all very cute, it is not that sexy. Mr Gin, is being amazing but he is being a carer. He has been my picker upper, carter, bender and occasional clothes putter onner. As a partner, you are used to doing the odd tie, cuff button, dress zip or corset lacing for your love. In our case there was added shoe trying until I got slip on shoes because, I wanted to put on my own clothes.  In hospital, I was focused on being able to dress myself, at least put my own undies on.  But sometime trousers defeat me and Mr Gin helps. It feels odd and although appreciate it wish it wasn't so.

I am feeling pretty helpless at the moment, not being able to carry a glass of water or my own plate of food is demoralising and difficult. I know it is early days but still. Mr Gin is happy to help out but it is difficult for him too, he is tired, as he is doing a lot of the things I would do, my share of the cooking and cleaning.

Having said all that, he has been amazing, especially in the wee small hours when I'm struggling either with pain or just sheer frustration. On a number of nights he has got up, found painkillers, normally morphine and then held me till I slept. He took half days last week and came home, organised lunch and helped around the house.

There is a shift in our relationship and I'm looking forward to it changing back. For now I am beyond grateful for my big, hairy, bald, funny and silly partner, who four years ago did  not realise nurse was in the relationship agreement and has stuck through one of the most stressful points of my life.

Oh, and that bruise? We think that is from having to use my knee and the lever point to get my hip in and out of joint. It is amazing.

Knee bruise