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.

The Next Karate Kid

Sergeant Kesuke Miyagi: Fighting not good. But if must fight… win.

First, I’ll get this out of my system.

WAX ON, WAX OFF!

I’m a karate kid. Always have been. I did my time on the dojo for 13 years! I earned my black belt, and lasted multiple blood noses in competition fights.

A massive lesson I learnt from my Karate days: self-discipline.

My definition of self-discipline, is the ability to control yourself when faced with temptation or when faced with trying circumstances, whatever they may be.

I simply haven’t written a blog-entry for two months now because I’ve been trying to figure out how I can control myself. How to use self-control from turning this blog into a negative view of my feelings about the truth of this last part of my recovery.

The truth being, for a while, rehab and recovery have been pretty crap.

It all started when nothing was getting better. My last ‘50%’ blog entry was the day I saw the suave surgeon after my “recovery” period of 12 weeks. I hadn’t healed as expected at the end of the 12 weeks, so my surgeon gave me the “two more weeks on a single crutch” line (funny word crutch, I know).

Brilliant timing. My boss had her wedding date two weeks away from that day so I counted down each day until I was “crutch” free (stop giggling!).

I asked the surgeon about my chances of wearing heels to the wedding. He said he couldn’t see why not. He did however warn me that I will “feel it” the next day. I clearly was too busy doing a happy dance to hear that second part and wore heels to the wedding, danced the night away, and had a bloody good time with my walking stick in hand WAAAAAAAIT A MINUTE!

Walking stick?!? Crutch free my ass.

And “you’ll feel it the next day” turned into “MY BODY IS BROKEN!!!!”

After two more weeks spent with my walking stick permanently attached to my arm, a positive “I’m getting better!” attitude started to fade.

As well as the lower back pain/soreness returning, two things took me by surprise. My referred pain from using the single crutch, and a massive burning pain in my thigh where my feeling hadn’t returned.

By the time May rolled around, I’d celebrated a birthday, worn heels, gone from good to bad, and lost all confidence that I was actually going to get better. Despite the many hours of physio and hydrotherapy, nothing was happening in my recovery.

My housemate also went into hospital. Nurse bestie developed a dangerous cyst on her lower back that had to be surgically removed. The inconveniences of the year were beginning to be a bit too much for this household.

Self discipline went out the window. I went out of my way to express how utterly inconvenient my operation had been. I acted like a petulant child. Complained that it was all for nothing. Got angry and frustrated when I couldn’t do things at work. Couldn’t repay my housemate with the same care I was given straight out of hospital because it all hurt too much. I pretty much went a bit off track.

Introducing Myotherapy.

Myotherapy focuses on the treatment and rehabilitation of musculoskeletal pain. Its a method for relieving pain based on the application of pressure at trigger points throughout the body. Trigger points are defined as hypersensitive places in the muscles that cause pain in response to undue stress.

My muscles went into a spasm state around my operation site, and on my opposite side from referred pain. Simply, my body hated me for putting it through so much and had shut up shop until everything stopped hurting.

Enter Mr Richardson, a myotherapist from Tecoma who unfortunately copped my “I’m feeling down” moment whilst conducting my initial appointment. He was awesome.

I learnt quite a bit in my first sitting with Mr Richardson. Firstly, dry needling is not a massage technique, it is tiny thin needles placed into your body trigger points to activate the nerves and muscles and release toxins/spasms from the body. I did not expect tiny needles to be popped into my back! Next, Mr Richardson did some remedial massage and sent me on my merry way. Amazing.

Feeling like an octopus (floaty-ish with gangly arms and legs), three weeks of Myotherapy successfully calmed my muscles down and allowed my physio/hydrotherapy work to actually start building my hip strength up.

Finally feeling a bit stronger, my physio instructed that I try out my new found strength with backstroke in the pool. As much as I love the beach and swimming in the water, I’m a runner, not a pool swimmer. It took me 5 attempts to get in the lap pool and actually swim. I found myself standing at the edge of the 50m outdoor pool, contemplating jumping in, before hobbling straight for the hydrotherapy pool and continuing on with my general pool work. Long story short, I was a bit scared that I would start swimming and only make it half way (to where I can’t stand up) before something would go wrong.

Eventually I jumped in. Swam 6 laps (300m), and then I shed a tiny tear of joy. Poor kid in the lap pool next to me must have thought I was crazy as I started celebrating my new found ability to actually exercise again. The joy. The absolute joy.

Today marks 5 months since my operation.

I’m about to start strengthening my core through pilates, and will continue to swim laps as well as complete my hydro and physiotherapy routines.

I’m not putting a date on “when” or “how long” until I no longer have pain, or need the walking stick. I’m just taking it one recovery day at a time.

I could have thrown it all in, but I have a great support network of family, friends, colleagues and random strangers at the pool that keep me on track.

My definition of self-discipline, is the ability to control yourself when faced with temptation or when faced with trying circumstances, whatever they may be.

Come at me last legs of recovery. I’m ready.

50%

50% healed, 50% still broken.

Today marks 3 months post op.

Another long wait, sitting in multiple waiting rooms (it’s like they’ve invented waiting rooms for waiting rooms because all I ever do is get moved between the two), and voila, my hip with screws Episode 2: After the Recovery.

50% Healed:
First, looking at the green arrow, this is the first cut line of the hip socket. Mmm listen to those chiseled bones. According to the doc, this has healed really well and in another 3 months will be barely visible in an X-ray.

*Insert one leg happy dance*

50% Still Broken:
Now, looking at the red arrow, this is the second cut line of the hip socket. The big black bit is where the bones haven’t healed together.

*Stops one leg happy dance*

So there Doc and I were, eating his Easter Egg gifts from his desk, trying to figure out why I haven’t got the healing process down.

I’ve been sentenced to 3-4 more weeks with a walking stick/crutch. Along with this, I’ve been ordered to minimal walking. Looks like I’ll be spending the holidays on the couch, again.

But before heading down that rabbit hole again, lets focus on the yellow line.

3 months ago my femur (the top ball part of my leg) didn’t have any coverage from the hip socket.

Now it does. 100% coverage. As it should be.

Give me 3-4 weeks, I’ll be walking 100% without support.

It will be awesome.

Acts of Kindness

It’s been a while… (Cue Britney Spears music).
My apologies, I haven’t been keeping up to date with the blog as I’ve been slowly getting my life back.

A few cool things have happened since I last wrote.

1. I can drive again 😆
2. I’m back at work 🏤
3. I’m down to only using one of the crutches ♿

So overall, things are looking up.

This post however, is dedicated to the people around me who have coached me through my recovery and stuck by me in my lowest times.

I am usually extremely independent. Severely independent.

This recovery has led me to lean on others (sometimes literally) for help with big tasks, and to cope with everyday life. So I’m using this post to say thank you.

Firstly thanks to my parents. They looked after me through the worst of the pain. They took me in for two weeks when I could hardly move and are responsible for a great deal of the positivity during my recovery. I depended on mum and dad to help me through my early rehab, and they went above and beyond the call of duty.

My extended family have provided great support by visiting me in hospital, and keeping me entertained whilst I’ve been house bound. My family gave me great strength and wisdom to keep me sailing through my recovery.

Without my housemate/bestie, I would probably still be stuck in the house. The bestie has been responsible for the middle phase of my rehab – the slow return to life. Thanks for being the rock in the house and providing me with many giggles and appropriate wheel chair/crutches activities to keep me out and about.

Then there’s my friends who managed to get me out of the house, or join me for a cider/cuppa whilst I was house bound. I greatly appreciated the messages of support, the drop in company, and the cards, flowers and love from you all.

Lastly with going back to work, I need to thank those who have been ever so helpful with my return. So many acts of kindness from colleagues opening doors, to running errands over the long distances I just can’t make without feeling sore. Thanks for the access to the scooter to get around the large workplace area (oh yes, I have been hooning around work on a little blue scooter, amazing!).

The last few weeks were made possible by all the acts of kindness I managed to witness first hand from those around me these past 10 weeks.

Thanks to you all, I’m slowly getting back to being me again.

Your acts of kindness, are greatly appreciated.

Summer Of Hip Being Realigned!

“I got my first real hip pain,
Running on the street outside.
Waited for the doc a long while,
He said I needed to get my hip realigned.

Oh when I look back now,
Early recovery seemed to last forever.
Now two surgeries on,
I’ve found that I’m getting better.

Now for the best days of my life… Oh yeah, doing rehab so my hip can realign!”

If you have just made it through my terrible spin off lyrics to the tune of Bryan Adams Summer of 69, kudos to you (and those of you who didn’t pick it up will go back and real it all again singing). I give more points to those of you who sung it out loud 🙂

With physio and hydrotherapy I’ve slowly been able to get my life back. In the past two weeks I have been to two engagement parties (manoeuvring around on crutches like a boss) and gone out with friends for drinks. I can sit long enough to last in a movie cinema chair, and I am able to ride longer on an exercise bike. Booya!!!

I am going slightly mad still as I spend most days in the house. My biggest gripe with this solo housebound life lately is the “almost” feeling.

I’m almost able to
-drive my car.
-cook without relying on kitchen benches to hold me up.
-bend over and pick up items I drop.
-shower without the special chair
-do housework
-deal with escalators (man they move fast!!!).
-play my drum kit.
-not have to lie down at least four times a day.

-walk.

Almost able to walk. Having to rely on only one of these crutches is such a tease!

So I’ve booked myself into the retirement village. I figure that buying a walking stick must make me eligible for early retirement right??

Wrong.

I go back to work in two weeks.

“Standing on my back porch,
Thinking six more weeks until I’m not an invalid.
And when I was just getting used to the couch,
I’m forced out of my early retirement.

I’ll get back to the best days of my life”

Bryan Adams must be so jealous of my songwriting abilities :p