Rollercoaster Rhapsody

In music, a Rhapsody is a free instrumental composition in one extended movement, typically one that is emotional in character.

Welcome to an Amy Rhapsody. It’s not as epic as Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, but it may have just as many guitar solos!

It’s been well over a year since I last wrote about my hip, and this is no accident.

For a little while now I’ve been trying to figure out how to best put this last year and a half into words. So as I sit here at 12:30am on a school night (sorry mum), I feel that I’m finally ready to lay the last part of my ‘hip’ saga to rest.

So here goes…

I last saw my surgeon in June 2014 – my good old suave surgeon.
I walked into his office and he told me I was “all clear!”
He then told me a story.

It was about his friend, who had recently recovered from surgery. Everything was going well for him, until another pressing issue threatened his body.

At first I thought my suave surgeons timing was a bit odd. To me, telling me this after I’d been given the “all clear” was an odd move . In fact, I was still processing the “Amy! You don’t need to see me again!” part of the conversation and realising how much of my life I had back, especially now that I didn’t have to sit in doctors or hospital waiting rooms every few months (remember this line later).

I waltzed out of my suave surgeons clinic on a high! I also accidentally ran into Michelle Timms (epic Australian basketballer), went all fan-girl and blabbed about my non-existent basketball career (smooth, real smooth Amy), and made my way to the car and rang EVERYONE about my good news!

So there I was – standing at the gates to my new theme park of life with a working hip! Ready to take on everything and anything I could find inside.

Cue the long, noisy and slightly concerning feeling of a rollercoaster pulling you up hill.

I’ve always liked to keep busy. Nothing like having an operation or three to slow your life down. So as soon as I was given the opportunity to do so, I jumped back straight into everything! Work, gigs, music, adventures, and socialising.

I was out of control busy.

I played four shows, did a recording gig and sound designed a school production. Feeling pretty normal!

“Ohh I’m just a little anxious about little things. I think people have forgotten what I’ve been through. Are they judging me? So am I not allowed to be in a little bit of pain, or discomfort, or lack strength in my hips?”

I went overseas for a wedding and ticked so many bucket list items off whilst travelling through New York, San Fran, LA and Vegas.

“Okie dokie… you’re on the other side of the world. This is no time to be thinking about how ‘normal’ you don’t feel. Maybe just keep doing things… look a rollercoaster! Go on, get on!”

My hips were doing great! Only a little uncomfortable here and there, and still needing to build muscle, but overall they were behaving like “normal” hips.

“I’m not normal. What is happening? I’m not okay.”

Cue the sharp fall, high pitch screaming fall of a rollercoaster.

I was diagnosed by a GP and mortified and in disbelief when he told me my results. Depression and anxiety hit me like a blow to the back of the head. I thought maybe something was wrong with my arms, they were so tense all the time. I thought something was wrong with my stomach, I didn’t feel like eating at all.

I have experienced bouts of anxiety and extreme sadness in my short life (cue teenage emo Amy), but this was a bit too different for me to bounce back from. This was a new low I hadn’t experienced before.

When I was going through my initial hip operations and recovery, I remained positive for a majority of the time spent wallowing in hospital beds, my own bed and whilst alone in the house. I had great support around me. Wonderful friends, family and hospital staff looking out for me.

This didn’t make sense. At all.

I was on crutches for a long time, and a lot of people could “see” I was in pain.

I remember thinking about all the tears I shed during the hip recovery – and that’s the thing, there really wasn’t many!

I could only work out two moments when I did really cry:

1. When I couldn’t move or feel my right leg after my first operation.
2. When my best mate ‘nurse bestie’ put me in a car and drove me round the block for the first time after being stuck in my bedroom for 2 weeks post PAO surgery.

So the tears caught up with me. Finally.

I cried about little things at work, I cried whenever I saw my cat before he was put down (okay that one is fair), I cried sitting in my room, I cried walking down the street, I cried watching TV (even comedies), I cried whenever I played music.
I was singularly responsible for a flood in my street.

Cue the JOLT and turning point after the dip of a rollercoaster.

I was told by a few close friends and family – maybe you need to see someone about all of this “crying” business. I really wasn’t great company for anyone. So much for getting back to my normal life, I was a mess!

And then, I found myself in a waiting room. Oh how the mighty had fallen!

So there I was, watching some wind-chimes in a window – on the brink of tears because… they were chiming so pretty and I was so sad about the bloody wind chimes! And then everything changed.

I had seen a psychologist once before. When I was in high school and going through the good ol’ teenage years. Fair enough, I needed it then because my emotions were all over the shop.

But I didn’t need to see anyone, I mean I could handle things… I’d be right. I’ll just tell a few jokes and everything will go back to normal right? Right?…. No? Okay then.

So me, the psych and a whole bunch of tissues. We had some good times.

After weeks of talking out and through what I didn’t even realise was going through my head (especially regarding the hip recovery and how I really felt about it all), suddenly I learnt the most important lesson about myself.

Cue the safety harness loosening from a rollercoaster.

My psych was so intrigued by my musician traits. My artistic abilities. And then she nailed it on the head…

“You know artists feel more? Artists are emotionally attached to much more in life. It’s how they pull all of us into their world, with emotion. You’re allowed to feel. In fact you’re always going to feel. You’re going to feel much more than what you believe to be felt by any other so called normal person. Without that emotion you aren’t you. It’s okay to feel. It’s normal to feel.”

“So acknowledge the feeling of extreme sadness. Becuase the way you are feeling, is normal.”

And that was my wake up call.

Cue the end of a rollercoaster ride.

I learnt to acknowledge my feelings and emotions. I learnt to understand that I’m going to have extreme lows, just as I will also have extreme highs. I learnt to listen to my emotions and to talk about them. I learnt that it is normal to be sad, just as it is normal to be happy.

I learnt that it is normal to feel.

I now understand my suave surgeons story at our last meeting was the warning sign I so desperately needed, but ignored.

It took a bung hip, 3 operations, a mammoth amount of recovery and all the support from family and friends to get to the end of this long rollercoaster ride. I have learnt so much about myself, my body and what two screws can really do!

But for the first time, in a long time, I feel normal again.

Cue the epic guitar solo from Bohemian Rhapsody 🙂

Hip-stagram: the search for a better quality of life

Happy New Hip Year 🙂

Many apologies for my late blog post op! I didn’t mean to leave you all with a cliffhanger pre op with a blog entry that never gave closure (like every season of Lost on TV).

Point is, I’m okay! In fact, I’m more than okay, I’m screw less!!!

My grandma and brother took me into the hospital for my admission. I was surprised that this op was covered by my useless health fund. Finally! Oh the joy when they told me to go upstairs without going into a small room and talking finances with a heartless hospital administrator.

Second last on the theatre list (entertaining myself with a bit of bed goes up, bed goes down) and starving all the way through the afternoon, I was eventually gowned up and sent on my final hip related trolley trip to the operating theatre.

My good friends, the whales, were still hanging on the wall of the waiting bay. I tried so hard to remember what motivational spiel the picture said so I could report it back, but the whirlwind that was my de-screwing began and I forgot all about it.

I woke up on the other side of the waiting bay and was wheeled back to the room saying and doing weird things under anaesthetic. Voila it was done. The last of my operation series was completed.

Determined to make sure my surgery was a day procedure, I came good with little pain. I was popped in a wheelchair and sent home (oh happy day mama!). Back on crutches, I was hopping along like it was second nature.

I returned to work after surviving the weekend recovering, but ‘bull in a china shop’ Amy got back into things too fast. My body issued a serious shut-down in the form of a fever (which hit whilst I was playing and singing some seriously high 80s rock harmonies at work with my band amigo), and a minor infection around the scar site. Back to hospital I went for a clean up and inspection of the scar. Here’s the PG version:

Ordered to not return to work, I missed all the end of year celebrations/hi-jinx and spent my time on the couch watching every movie and tv show on the DVD shelf. Annoyed, sad, and a little bit lonely at home, I knew that I just had to ‘keep swimming’ so I could get better and properly enjoy the silly season, the best season of all!

I love Christmas. I’m a massive fan of Christmas lights and carols. I made it my goal to get to three events despite being crutches bound.

The first being carolling at St Vinnies and Royal Talbot hospital with the community theatre bunch from MDMS.

Tick!

The second being the Carols by Candlelight rehearsal at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl.

Tick!

And lastly, I needed to sit in the car (which can be the most painful) and complete the annual Christmas Lights tour with nurse bestie.

Tick!

I saw the suave surgeon once more on Christmas Eve to finally hear: “Ditch the crutches, lose the dressing bandage, see you in June!”

Crutches free for Christmas. Best present ever.

As New Year approached, I told good friends that I never wanted to hear the words ‘hip’ and/or ‘operation’ in the same sentence ever again. I felt like I needed to escape from all things hip related (including my blog). I had nightmares early on about the possibility of going back into hospital to have the same op on my opposite side. The sort of dreams where you wake up crying and in panic sweats. Thanks subconscious! I really needed the lack of sleep…not!

In saying the above, I always knew that things were going to be a bit unsteady (literally) at the beginning of recovery. I’ve always been positive, and as much as the idea of another operation frightens me, I know that I can deal with whatever life throws my way. I have always had the support of my friends and family, and that’s why I know it’ll all be okay. I’ll jump that hurdle when I come to it … Or ram through it in a wheelchair if need be.

With recovery came the rehab program. Physiotherapy was again weekly with remedial massage being a helpful relief for my referred pain. Ordered back to Pilates and strength training by my physio, I thought that getting some new running gear for the year might be a good push start. Physio K and I chatted about goals once again, and the plan is to complete a 5k run by October.

Couch to 5k here I come!
Or not….

I have a love/hate relationship with my rehab program. I love the idea of getting my core muscles stronger. I hate the fact I can’t run yet. Knowing that as much as you can ‘walk’, you’re still not completely strong enough to run is an absolute killer. Especially since I got to running during my last rehab program just before the operation.

Patience. Patience and faith in myself to complete my rehab. That’s what gets me through.

Returning to work has been a challenge. Mainly concrete and uneven, the school grounds can be testing on the healing joint, especially whilst on yard duty. This is my yard duty face 😐

Half a term in, and slowly the rehab program is showing its success. At the beginning of term I was sore and just aching all day. Now, I am pretty good throughout the workday and having much less muscle fatigue. My pain comes and goes, but the referred pain is not as much as it once was. Now that’s progress.

It is hard to listen to people complain about “pain” when you are recovering. I look around and see so many people who have emotionally or physically been injured and notice that pain thresholds can differ so much. We can’t compare pain, as much as we like to, it’s not a competition, it is what it is.

I am lucky that as painful my experience has been, I have always searched for the positive in each situation and been supported throughout my recovery. It’s not easy to admit you’re in pain, and having it seen to can be a humiliating experience, especially when you find out that something is wrong and will need fixing.

I guess the first step is to acknowledge that everyone is after quality of life. You can live forever, but if you can’t do what you want because your body is telling you “no” due to underlying pain, then what is the point?

If I can offer one bit of advice to those around me in pain, especially those who know something is not quite right with their body or emotional stability, please, talk to someone and start to get advice on what steps you can take to start getting relief. Because if I have learnt one thing, as much as I wanted to “forget” the pain at the beginning of 2014, I will always carry it with me as a memory of strength that I can get a better quality of life.

I have scars and they remind and push me to search for the best quality of life I can.

I have photos that I have posted that follow my entire operation period, recovery time and rehab program. I will always be reminded of how I know I gave my all to try and live with a better quality of life.

I see the surgeon in June to discuss my progress. I’m hoping I’ll be given some new X-rays of my screw less hips! Until then, I hope you too find what you need to have the best quality of life.

“I am titanium….” No more :)

I’m pretty sure my body has known that it has had foreign material clinking along inside. Whether that be my brain convincing me or my imagination, I’m not sure. After 11 months, it’s time for me to be titanium no more!

My suave surgeon is so happy with my final healing of the bone, as well as the overall alignment of my hip. He’s been supportive, and positive throughout the entire process. Not an easy thing when most patients he would see come to him in pain, and therefore with a bad attitude.

Today I am in for a day procedure in which they will charge up a drill and reverse my screws out through an arthroscope. Sounds pretty, doesn’t it?

I’ll keep you posted on how I go keeping the screws (okay, I know, a little weird). It’d be nice to see the two 9cm screws that have been renting out space in my hip for this long time.

I’ll be back on crutches… Again. But to be honest, I’m old hat at this now. Three surgeries in two years (Arthroscope, PAO, Arthroscope), I think my health fund has loved my donations. I do often question “why me?” and “why now?” although, I’ve realised now this whole process has made me much stronger in mind set, more resilient in regards to pain, and slightly worse for my family and friends with my constant hip related humour.

I’m due for admission at 1pm. I’ll see you on the flip side.

X

Walk. Dance. Now run.

After my arthroscope (Nov 2012), I remember the very first time I was unable to feel, or move my legs.

Post PAO surgery, over 6 excruciating months of crutches, a walking stick, and a weak muscle driven gait, I’ve learnt to walk again.

I auditioned for a show recently unsure of what movement would be required. I thought it would be a bit of swaying and sidestepping. As the rehearsal process went on, I learnt that I was suddenly being thrown into some serious box steps that required me to think both about my balance, and the moves, as well as singing and acting!

Now, first I’ve never been a “dancer”. Mum sent me to calisthenics lessons when I was younger and I refused to be put on stage in any make up! I was the chick on the Auskick field kicking a footy in the mud.

With closing night of the show tonight, I can admit I finally feel I have my confidence back when I comes to dancing on stage. Something I really was not sure I would ever feel again.

Thank you to all my family, friends and cast mates who have given a big “thumbs up” to my performance this show season. I couldn’t be happier to be back onstage.

And a big thank you to Elwood Blues. My bestie who’s helped me get back onstage with an epic Blues Brothers number.

I’ve downloaded the couch to 5k app on my phone. Next step, I learn to run again.

Patience.

Patience
ˈpeɪʃ(ə)ns/
noun

1.The capacity to accept or tolerate delay, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious.

I’ve never enjoyed waiting. I remember back in primary school, as part of the sacrament of Confirmation, we were given two choices. One was to choose a Confirmation name (‘Saint Rose of Lima’ was mine for those playing at home), and the other was to choose a part of the Holy Spirit that you felt you “needed”.

I chose patience.

Thirteen years later, and today I realised for the first time that my choice had finally paid off.

Originally, my suave surgeon told me I’d be “screwed” for 6 months, and then the reverse drill would be put to work. At the 7 month mark my x-rays showed that I hadn’t healed. I freaked out. I was given 3 more months to heal and then come back to see the surgeon. This is around the time I did a bit more of the classic “why me” whinging.

I am not the girl who crosses off calendar dates, or sits around waiting for things to happen. After quite a lot of pilates and physio work, I decided a great way to pass time would be to audition for a theatre show. Lucky for me, a 3 month rehearsal period took me right up to today in the blink of an eye.

I spent the 24 hours leading up to this appointment in an emotional state that resulted in yet more whinging, and tears. It was the thought of not being healed that worried me mostly.

Today My patience was tested on overdrive. I spent 20minutes waiting in a consulting suite foyer, another 20minutes waiting outside my surgeons door, and then I spent 30minutes waiting for my x-rays to be taken. I was then finally sent back to my surgeon’s room foyer where I waited (patiently) in a tiny corridor surrounded by sporting memorabilia for 20minutes more.

I swear I now know too much about Kim Kardashian from the amount of trashy mags I read today, as well as every member of the AFL Team of the Century from staring at all the memorabilia on the walls.

All that waiting was nothing when I heard the two magic words from my surgeon…

“Healed perfectly!”

And with those two words I suddenly became the poster child for PAO surgery. My surgeon was so happy with the new alignment (and mighty impressed by his own work) that he took photos of my x-ray to use in his next lecture on PAO surgery. I also found myself being asked to do some demo work in the hallway for the Aus Volleyroos captain who (in a wheelchair) had just had both his hips put through PAO surgery. I did what I was told, I hopped, skipped and jumped to show what light there is at the end of the tunnel.

On December 14th, the screws will be removed.

Since November 26, 2012 I have been waiting for this all to be over.

As much as I have had my ‘ups and downs’, the end is now in sight.

I asked for patience, and this has been my test. Thanks “big guy” upstairs, I see what you did there.

A Lot in a Common

My housemate showed me this entry from her PTs blog ‘Move Eat Repeat.’

As I read it I realised that ‘we’ surgery recovering peeps, aren’t that different. We all have been responsible for shedding a tear, whinging, or celebrating…by shedding more tears and recovering through it all.

I found the below inspiring and wanted to share it as it’s another strong recovery story. I read it and have kicked myself back on the pony (I don’t ride horses, I only fall off them) to give the physio all I’ve got until I see my surgeon in 2 weeks.

Happy 10 months screws!!! You’ll be out soon and I will no longer resemble an IKEA flat pack in X-rays!

Blog link – click here -> Move Eat Repeat

Hips Don’t Lie… Shakira Shakira

Firstly, I can’t get the Shakira song Hips Don’t Lie out of my head. It was the soundtrack to a night out recently celebrating what I am going to call ‘Personal Victory’ night.

Since the operation, I have been told “don’t do so much!” or “you should say no more often” in regards to my work, hobbies and interests. Understandable, but of course, I am the queen of defiance. MC Hammer may have said “Cant Touch This” but I was the child that would sit with a stick poking whatever it was until it did something or I was told off. I’ve never been able to sit still, which is why recovery from this PAO has been pretty damn hard.

The thing is, if I had said no, I wouldn’t have this great feeling of self worth that is only achievable by doing the seemingly impossible and accomplishing some sweet, sweet, personal victories. 8 months post op, and the amount of personal achievements and victories in this last month have been tenfold.

8 months… Holy moley! And to think this time 8 months ago I was lying in bed post op coming off the anaesthetic by impersonating the Batman villain Bain.

I wouldn’t have been able to achieve any of the below without my wonderful support network of family and friends. So thank you to all who were there for me when I needed them most. Thank you.

Personal Victory #1
Drumming

This is me all bunched up in a corner where the band played for the musical Bare. I was offered the gig originally and said no. When my good friend the Musical Director (MD) was in a pickle and needed a dep (a stand in musician, like an understudy if someone can’t play all the shows), I eventually decided that perhaps it might be a good idea to help out and drum after all. I’m glad I did. It was a great gig to come back to the music world with that involved high energy drumming. My right kick drum leg was not as powerful as it used to be, but I’m sure with strengthening and time it will get back to before, if not better!

Personal Victory #2
MD School Production

I signed on to school production in the previous year knowing I had my operation coming up early 2013. My decision to take part again (second year in a row being MD) was down to two things. One, I had a funky colleague who wanted to co-produce the show with me, and two, I needed the distraction. Funny, production ended up being a recovery roller coaster that I found myself thinking about other distractions from itself. After 6 long months the show went on with a great reception given from all audiences. All that time spent arranging, composing, fixing, cutting, note-bashing and throwing one tanty, the entire experience was yet again, completely worth it.

Personal Victory #3
“Go For A Run”

My physio instructed me to try a 500m run/jog. After seeing me intermittently over 3 week periods and having me complete clinical pilates, my physio has been tremendously happy with my progress. I’ve done a few little jogs and so far, no pain. I still have referred pain, but now the pain is more localised to the actual operation site. Run Forest, run! Back in the game!!!

Personal Victory #4
A Night Out in Heels

So back to where the party started. To celebrate all the other personal victories, one went out with the work amigos in style with a black dress and heels. Having not worn heels for so long, this was a big effort. Slightly wobbly at first, but eventually was back to being a pro at least an hour in from wearing them. Amazing.

Personal victories, I’m not going to lie and take a page out of Shakira’s book, I feel pretty awesome that I have managed to achieve all of the above. Now I can relax as the crazy time consuming musical and gigs have finished, but you know me, I can’t sit still. It’s time to find something else to do…. Oh I got cast in a theatre variety show, does that count? :p

Standing Tall

Looking like a normal 24 year old these days, 8 months post op.

I’ve had a few pain-free moments (brief moments) in which I’ve thought “Maybe, I imagined the whole operation!”. But more on that later, let’s talk about my suave surgeon and what he had to say all those weeks ago.

“75% healed! Hmm…why not 100%? For a healthy young woman, I have no answer. Take some calcium, get Vitamin D, and I’ll see you in 3 more months.” – Suave Surgeon.

As mum and I sat in his office awaiting to find out if the screws would be removed at the six month mark, I couldn’t help but notice how my X-rays had changed over time. From the week of the op, to the three month mark, then to now at six months. The body is an amazing unit. Looking at the X-ray above, you can still see quite large gap towards the bottom right of the screws. The bone has not yet knitted together, it simply needs more time.

My odd leaning tower gait and limp has eventually lessened, but I still have been in much referred pain. Through remedial work from my physio, strengthening exercises, hydrotherapy and exercise bike work, I have finally started to stand tall all over again.

I’ve started Clinical Pilates classes to strengthen my core (as instructed by my suave surgeon). It’s hard work, but my bikini body is going to amazing this summer! I use a reformer (sliding board using springs) and an exercise ball to build my core muscles through various controlled exercises.

So tonight I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner and I’ve been feeling great all day, not much pain… So I tried something, and then I burst into tears. Not because I couldn’t do it, or it hurt, but for the first time in 8 long months, I finally could.

Watch me, I’m not just standing tall, I can run again.

8 Months Post Op – Running tall.

Cool Runnings

Yul Brenner: Look in the mirror, and tell me what you see!
Junior Bevill: I see Junior.
Yul Brenner: You see Junior? Well, let me tell you what I see. I see pride! I see power! I see a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!

It’s amazing what can happen when you are in the right mind set.

I’ve spent the last week getting remedial massage (ohhhh my poor glutes!). I’ve also been sticking to a very strict rehab routine. Everyday I’ve been getting up, stretching, activating muscles, and then going to work. After work, I stretch, activate, and then sprawl on the couch and play Wii DC Heroes (I’m nerdy). Before bed, I continue the routine as I head towards the land of nod.

This structured rehab all comes from my physio’s grand “Results 4 Life” program. It is a rehab program that has been planned for me to complete over the next four months. As we went through his plans for my full recovery, we looked at images and videos of arthroscopes, PAO surgeries, muscle diagrams, and hip diagrams. I’m not faint hearted, but I can’t really deal with blood or bones when they’re not mine. With a white face I watched a video of his final plans for my recovery. It is strange to think that a video of a person hopping made me cringe. I’m all for hopping, skipping and jumping! But the idea of me doing it after having the surgery I have had, is damn frightening! But, if that’s where he wants me to be, then I will get there and hop my way to recovery.

Next week I see the surgeon and face some more music of what news comes from yet another X-ray of my healing hip.

I have a plan to stick to.

I have two weeks recovering on the couch thanks to school holidays.

I have a pear cider in my hand.

I have precautions for what I’m not to do.

I have goals.

I have the right mind set.

Kiss my lucky egg?

Come on Jamaica! It’s bobsled time!

Recovery? Ain’t nobody got time for that!

“Action expresses priorities.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

I’m in trouble.

In the last month I have completely neglected my recovery routine. I imagine the conversation with my recovery trainer (imaginary bootcamp-ish trainer with the abs of The Commando that I have in my head) would go like this:

Recovery Trainer (RT): “Pool visits?”
Me: “At least twice? Once? I think…”
RT: “Exercise bike riding for 15-20mins?”
Me: “I moved the bike to a different spot in the house and now I can’t see the TV whilst riding it, and reading a book is boring and plus the seat is uncomfy”
RT: “Theraband work?”
Me: “The theraband is sitting in my desk at work because I thought maybe I’d…”

RT: “Anything? Have you done ANY recovery work?”

…

…….

……..

Me: “You see the thing is, I’ve been writing reports, organising concerts, writing lists that keep changing, marking work, trying to keep up with Revenge and Smash… did you hear Smash got cancelled? And I’ve been cleaning my room for the last decade whilst also cleaning my car, but it keeps raining, probably because it’s winter… is it cold to you? It’s been so cold, I haven’t felt too good when I come home after work to actually exercise and the thing is… recovery? Ain’t nobody got time for that!”

This is the point where the RT slaps me in the face.

I got a kick today instead from my new physio (yes I have a new one because the old one was not helping or consistent at all). After giving up on myself at work because of the pain, I visited my new clinic in the worst of all emotional states. So when I got to the question:
“How much would you say your emotional state has been affected by your injury?” on my new client form, I circled quite violently the highest number I could choose on the numerical scale (and then wrote x10 next to it because I’m cheeky like that).

The new physio assessed me in all the usual ways that I’m beginning to get used to. Being a post-op patient is like learning a routine to be an hostess “arms out, stand to the right” and all that jazz. Then, he said something I’ve been ignoring and too stubborn to realise myself:

“Firstly, when you get sick – you take Vitamin C, get bed rest, take a day off work, and get better by looking after yourself. You’re hip in this case is the sickness, and it’s like you’ve been taking codral and drinking red bull. In doing so you cover up all the symptoms and create a false impression that you’re healing, when you’re still back at the start.”

Everybody at home try this.

Lie down and bend your right knee. Put your left leg out straight in the air and lift your bum up (no cheating by using your elbows). Although you may struggle through, I bet you can get your bum in the air.

I have no strength in my core muscles down my right side and cannot do this. I have no strength because my muscles are still causing me to feel a dull ache as they are not activated (so much for all that myotherapy).

I’m back at the start. I’ve been ordered to do stretching 3x a day (or more) for 15mins.

I’m seeing my new physio every three days for some extreme soft tissue work (oh god, my muscles are going to hate me! I’m so sore from all the remedial massage today). He’s not letting me off visiting him constantly until the muscles are working. I’m doing hydrotherapy in the holidays with a physio guiding me through my exercises. Not that I wasn’t doing them right, but then I’m forced to do it, and also have someone there to support how my body should be whilst in the water.

But the main lesson today: Priorities. From today, my hip, my emotional state, and my health is my main priority. Everything else, I ain’t got time for… just yet.