Well it seems the bad thing I did on Friday was probably a sprain or strain or tear or somesuch to my beleagured left thigh. It hurts. I saw my primary this morning and she upped my dose of ibuprofen to 600mg, told me to take acetaminophen on top of it and that I'd need to be non-weight-bearing for 4-6 weeks. She was about to give me crutches there, but then thought perhaps a cane would be more appropriate and said I should see my PT to be evaluated. Well, my PT's scheduling for the end of October right now, but thankfully, since she is awesome, she's working me in first thing tomorrow (or this afternoon if she has a cancellation) for a fitting and a little crutch-training. Thank you Susan!!!
Of course this means I'll likely be crutch-bound for my trip to DC (which my mom thinks I should cancel anyhow) AND for Halloween, which just sucks. I'm wondering if I should try to incorporate the crutches into my costume (in which case I need some suggestions!) or not even bother - in any event, it's going to put a crimp in my dancing plans at the Freakers Ball. CURSES!!!
I feel like there's a joke in here somewhere about me and the economy not having a leg to stand on. :)
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
I took a tumble.
Yesterday at my folks' house I was bumbling around getting ready for my mama's 60th birthday brunch (which was awesome) and stepped back into the treadmill, falling with not a dang thing to catch myself on. I bounced my left shoulderblade and right elbow off the wall, smashed my left elbow on a stack of I don't even know what (the resulting multitonal bruise is quite impressive) and landed my aforementioned left butt right on the corner of the treadmill. I now have a purple 5-inch equilateral triangle on my bum. And on the side I was already limping on! Geez, I just can't catch a break. :)
My mom and I talked some about plans for my infirmity post-surgery and she made me a little nervous, talking about how hard it's going to be for her and my dad to get me into the house and wondering aloud if I might just go to a "halfway house" (or live with my 94-year-old grandmother, which I think was a joke?!) until I'm functional enough to go back to my apartment. *sigh* I mean, we have plenty of time to work things out, but I need to feel like my plans are stable enough that I can not worry about them, and instead focus on the actual mechanics of getting better. I asked if she'd been reading I am PAOed (she hasn't) to get a better idea of what to expect, saying "I don't think you understand what it's going to be like" and she said her classic "I hate to tell you, but... I think it's going to be very painful." I was like "Ah... yeah! They take a chunk out of my pelvis!" I don't know - for me sucking up as much information as possible is what helps me keep a level head (relatively!) about it all. I think for my mom (who won't even look at the diagram of what the surgery is) it just makes it all the more scary. Hopefully that will change over the course of the next 8 months - I can't be the only one who knows what's going on!
On an unrelated note, if you haven't heard it you should check out TV on the Radio's new album, Dear Science - I CANNOT stop listening to it! Totally. Awesome.
My mom and I talked some about plans for my infirmity post-surgery and she made me a little nervous, talking about how hard it's going to be for her and my dad to get me into the house and wondering aloud if I might just go to a "halfway house" (or live with my 94-year-old grandmother, which I think was a joke?!) until I'm functional enough to go back to my apartment. *sigh* I mean, we have plenty of time to work things out, but I need to feel like my plans are stable enough that I can not worry about them, and instead focus on the actual mechanics of getting better. I asked if she'd been reading I am PAOed (she hasn't) to get a better idea of what to expect, saying "I don't think you understand what it's going to be like" and she said her classic "I hate to tell you, but... I think it's going to be very painful." I was like "Ah... yeah! They take a chunk out of my pelvis!" I don't know - for me sucking up as much information as possible is what helps me keep a level head (relatively!) about it all. I think for my mom (who won't even look at the diagram of what the surgery is) it just makes it all the more scary. Hopefully that will change over the course of the next 8 months - I can't be the only one who knows what's going on!
On an unrelated note, if you haven't heard it you should check out TV on the Radio's new album, Dear Science - I CANNOT stop listening to it! Totally. Awesome.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Ohhh I did something bad...
Eddie Izzard has this bit about chiroprators ("they're different from osteopaths... because of the spelling") in which he talks about how they crack your bones and you go "Ahhh!" but sometimes you just go "Errr?!" - I had that today. One of the most common symptoms of dysplasia (and the first I ever manifested) is cracking/popping hips. Most of the time that cracking results in the best feeling of relief you can get, at least in the short-term, but today I definitely had an "Errr?!" moment. Something other than my regular popping popped and now my usual discomfort is gone, replaced with new pains in strange places (I believe the industry term is "my left butt") and the inability to put full weight on my left leg. Hopefully this is only temporary!
There's a lot doctors don't know about why dysplastics hurt the way they do. I asked Dr. Kim "So, what is it that hurts when I'm feeling this pain?" and he said "That's a good question! We really don't know." My PT was saying the popping is probably the iliotibial band (that runs down the side of your leg - see illustration) moving. From where to where... uh, I dunno. From somewhere bad to somewhere good? Maybe? All I know is my damn leg hurts, and I can't wait to get home to my icepack!
Oh, and I went to put on my precious precious beloved Earth shoes this morning and discovered that Augustus the Destroyer had chewed one of them apart! I swear he thinks he's a dog! I fear I will be pouting over these sandals for some time to come.
There's a lot doctors don't know about why dysplastics hurt the way they do. I asked Dr. Kim "So, what is it that hurts when I'm feeling this pain?" and he said "That's a good question! We really don't know." My PT was saying the popping is probably the iliotibial band (that runs down the side of your leg - see illustration) moving. From where to where... uh, I dunno. From somewhere bad to somewhere good? Maybe? All I know is my damn leg hurts, and I can't wait to get home to my icepack!
Oh, and I went to put on my precious precious beloved Earth shoes this morning and discovered that Augustus the Destroyer had chewed one of them apart! I swear he thinks he's a dog! I fear I will be pouting over these sandals for some time to come.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Papa
My grandfather died ten years ago today, and my uncle sent out this fantastic photo of him, which brings a tear to my eye and a smile to my face.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Snake! Dragon! SWORD!
What more could you ask for in a cane?!
John Powers is determined that my recovery will be a badass one. :)
John Powers is determined that my recovery will be a badass one. :)
Monday, September 22, 2008
Let's get physical!
(Sadly these fantastic pants were only available in small!)
Last Thursday I didn't make it to the pool for various reasons (work, meetings, late night viewing of Speed Racer, etc.) and had a real rough time of it this weekend. I sat down after work and grocery shopping Saturday night and just couldn't bring myself to get up again. The thought occurred to me that maybe obsessively pushing myself in the pool twice a week, increasing reps and resistance might actually be making things worse. Today I'm going to scale back a bit, and focus more on stretching. I spent a lot of time cleaning my place yesterday and managed to jack myself up pretty good with the dastardly vacuum. It'll be nice to be warm and buoyant for awhile.
Here's my regular pool routine, for those of you who're interested. The order of exercises is flexible, depending on where most of the pool traffic is at the time - it takes me about 75-90 minutes altogether. I can't advocate aquatic therapy enough! Oh, and remember to "tighten the belly and tuck the butt" (my PT's mantra) in all scenarios. :)
* 10-15 minutes walking the width of the pool, including walking on heels and toes, as well as this knee-swingy manuever I can't quite describe
* 1-minute each stretches with leg parallel to the floor, floaty noodle under the heel
* 1-minute each stretches with leg bent and floaty noodle under foot behind you
* 90-second calf stretch, with heels hanging off the first stair
* 10-15 steps up with right leg leading, 10-15 with left leg leading
* 10-15 steps down with right leg leading, 10-15 with left
* 1-minute balance on one leg with arms folded across chest (bonus: try closing your eyes!)
* 10 squats standing on left leg, 10 standing on right, arms crossed
* 10 toe-raises standing on left leg, 10 standing on right, arms crossed
* 3 minutes sitting on a kick board in the deep end with a floaty belt on, arms crossed (this is MUCH harder than it sounds!)
* 2 minutes "toes dry" with float belt and float collar (kind of hard to picture - basically a crunch pose but easier on your back with the floatiness and all)
* 10-15 reps "toes dry" crunches, both legs at once
* 10-15 reps alternating single legs, "toes dry"
* 3 minutes on the chair with flippers, raising alternating legs from bent to straight
* 3 minutes on the chair with flippers, flippering with legs parallel to the ground
* 3 minutes on the chair opening and closing legs parallel to the ground with these wretched fan things that attach to your ankles and make a ton of resistance (sadly I cannot find a photo online)
* Usually last I put on the floaty belt and either ankle floats or the badass caterpillar boots (depending on how sore I am already!) and head to the deep end with my barbell floats for 15 minutes each of jogging and skiing. Three times (first, in between and last) I do a 1-minute jesus float (probably not the technical name) and 1 minute of swinging my legs back and forth with the floats still on the surface of the water. Both of these manuevers make my spine feel better than anything else I can do for it, and the swinging stretches my sides/top of the hip in a way I cannot duplicate on land. When I made my surgery decision I added the barbell floats to my jogging and skiing, trying to replicate the crutching motion under water while working against the floats' resistance. I'm happy to report I already have slightly-less-shameful biceps (see example below). heh heh
Oooh and Friday I found a pair of Danskos in my size for 22 DOLLARS at the consignment shop in town. Score!
PS I had a 45 of Olivia Newton John's classic when I was a child that I used to rock repeatedly on my Sesame Street record player. And does anyone else remember Get in Shape Girl? I wanted that one with the ribbon on a stick SO bad! My mom got me the one with ankle weights. BOOO!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
My haunch hurts
I'm trying to think of creative ways to describe the location of my discomfort (I also like "flank"), which today is centered around my right (yes, right, curses!) haunch. I think, though, that it's unused-muscles-getting-stronger pain and not joint-falling-apart pain - an important distinction I've come to understand all too well at this point in my life. "Haunch" is also helpful as a verb (which it isn't), as in "I was haunched over an ice pack all evening." Did I mention how much I love ice? I love ice. :) Earth Therapeutics Thera-Belt has also been helpful (though I got it for $9.99 thankyouverymuch!) but it doesn't hold the cold quite long enough for both sides of my beleagured midsection, so I sometimes just use it to hold an ice pack in place - it does the trick!
My shoulders owe a huge debt of gratitude to Jon Kemp and his time-tested hardcore massage technique. It hurts, but it makes an amazing difference - he worked a knot out in my left shoulderblade (which is apparently where my stress goes when I put it out of my mind) that I'm pretty sure's been there for nearly a year. I can really feel the difference when I'm in the pool, since so much of what I do focuses on balance. Boy's lucky he doesn't live nearby or I'd be requesting his services nonstop. Though I'd provide him a nice supplementary income!
In an effort to prepare for my months on crutches I've added arm-strengthening elements to my deep water exercises at the pool. I'm going to be jacked! Turns out dysplasia's a fine reason to renovate and remodel the ol' corpse - the prospect of no longer being able to walk is an effective motivator, believe you me! Um... but not like Madonna jacked, I don't think. And I'll have that one useless leg going on, so... Rats! It's a very odd Sisyphean sensation to be so consciously building up my strength so that I can be better prepared for a surgery that will take all of that strength away. Not to mention that I'm actually getting worse every day no matter what I do. Am I allowed to say "mindfuck" on the intarweb? :)
This post is dedicated to Mike Lowell, my favorite person with a torn labrum... besides myself.
My shoulders owe a huge debt of gratitude to Jon Kemp and his time-tested hardcore massage technique. It hurts, but it makes an amazing difference - he worked a knot out in my left shoulderblade (which is apparently where my stress goes when I put it out of my mind) that I'm pretty sure's been there for nearly a year. I can really feel the difference when I'm in the pool, since so much of what I do focuses on balance. Boy's lucky he doesn't live nearby or I'd be requesting his services nonstop. Though I'd provide him a nice supplementary income!
In an effort to prepare for my months on crutches I've added arm-strengthening elements to my deep water exercises at the pool. I'm going to be jacked! Turns out dysplasia's a fine reason to renovate and remodel the ol' corpse - the prospect of no longer being able to walk is an effective motivator, believe you me! Um... but not like Madonna jacked, I don't think. And I'll have that one useless leg going on, so... Rats! It's a very odd Sisyphean sensation to be so consciously building up my strength so that I can be better prepared for a surgery that will take all of that strength away. Not to mention that I'm actually getting worse every day no matter what I do. Am I allowed to say "mindfuck" on the intarweb? :)
This post is dedicated to Mike Lowell, my favorite person with a torn labrum... besides myself.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
9 months is a long-ass time...
...longer, even, than I've known I have this condition. What the hell was I thinking I would DO for the next 9 months?! Geez. Saturday I worked my 8-hour shift at the store for the first time in 3 weeks (following Jim & Liz's wonderful wedding and the aforementioned Boston-based extravaganza) and for the first time thought "I don't know if I can do this." It'd been a tough week for both hips (I feel like I should come up with names for each of them) and, even in Earth shoes, 8 hours of nearly-uninterrupted standing is less than ideal. I got home and slept for 2 hours.
Given that I can see a light at the end of this (albeit lengthy) tunnel, I'm considering exploring my pain-relief options above-and-beyond ibuprofen. Apparently because the bursae (plurar of bursa, like bursitis) in your hip are so close to the surface they can treat them with topical cortisone instead of an injection. They caution against it, as I think I mentioned before, because of the degenerative nature of the condition. I'm hoping, though, that now that I'm on surgery countdown maybe I can get some short-term relief.
The question of medication has been weighing heavy on my mind of late. I've never even broken a bone before, so the prospect of being on high-caliber painkillers for upwards of 2-3 months is a little daunting. The only surgical experience I've had was having my wisdom teeth out, and the meds I got for that (Flintstones vitamins compared to what I'll be getting for this business) just slayed me - I was non-functional. It's going to be hard enough giving up my summer to crutches - I can't fathom losing it completely to a weepy drug-induced haze. I gather much of the pain regulation is going to be at my own discretion, though. I'm going to make myself a big "Pain is weakness leaving the body" sign. :)
^Fantastic product shout-out of the day^ - this thing has completely changed my sleeping life!
Given that I can see a light at the end of this (albeit lengthy) tunnel, I'm considering exploring my pain-relief options above-and-beyond ibuprofen. Apparently because the bursae (plurar of bursa, like bursitis) in your hip are so close to the surface they can treat them with topical cortisone instead of an injection. They caution against it, as I think I mentioned before, because of the degenerative nature of the condition. I'm hoping, though, that now that I'm on surgery countdown maybe I can get some short-term relief.
The question of medication has been weighing heavy on my mind of late. I've never even broken a bone before, so the prospect of being on high-caliber painkillers for upwards of 2-3 months is a little daunting. The only surgical experience I've had was having my wisdom teeth out, and the meds I got for that (Flintstones vitamins compared to what I'll be getting for this business) just slayed me - I was non-functional. It's going to be hard enough giving up my summer to crutches - I can't fathom losing it completely to a weepy drug-induced haze. I gather much of the pain regulation is going to be at my own discretion, though. I'm going to make myself a big "Pain is weakness leaving the body" sign. :)
^Fantastic product shout-out of the day^ - this thing has completely changed my sleeping life!
Friday, September 12, 2008
6 months ago this would have meant something so very different...
I HAVE A DATE WITH A SURGEON!
Who: me & my man Dr. Kim
What: LPAO
When: Wednesday, June 17th, 2009
Where: Beth Israel Deaconness Medical Center in Boston
Why: to get drugs- I mean better
And now... the REAL panic sets in. :)
Who: me & my man Dr. Kim
What: LPAO
When: Wednesday, June 17th, 2009
Where: Beth Israel Deaconness Medical Center in Boston
Why: to get drugs- I mean better
And now... the REAL panic sets in. :)
*th-th-thump*th-th-thump*th-th-thump*
(An impression of the sound my fingers make as I compulsively tap them on my desk in anxious anticipation.) I'm waiting to hear back from Annette, the scheduling woman in Dr. Kim's office, about actually setting the date for my PAO. I don't have an emoticon suitable for this feeling...
So in the meantime... let's talk about SHOES! I have to give a big shout-out to Earth Shoes, which have saved me so much discomfort over the summer (my favorite shoes EVER), during the school year (though mine are an older version of these), and in general. These last ones, which are called ROCKET (\m/) I bought for walking (it was so nice to be able to tell my mom, ever the spendthrift, "I have a prescription for new shoes!") soon after my diagnosis and Susan, my dry land PT, just adores them. They're supercomfy, insanely supportive (though you do feel kind of like you're going to topple over on the stairs) and vegan, if you care about such things. I've rocked the Rockets for the past couple of days and they've really helped me get back on track from my weekend strain(s).
Shoes are tough for me lately because I have so many pairs I love that I really shouldn't wear anymore. Thankfully Eric's beautiful pup Bella helped me out some the other night by chewing the end off of one of my beloved Reefs, which I REALLY shouldn't wear but can't bear to give up... well, couldn't bear to give up before they had a serrated heel, that is.
Hmmm... yes... stiiilllll waiting... going to sing some Talking Heads to myself now, I suppose. :)
So in the meantime... let's talk about SHOES! I have to give a big shout-out to Earth Shoes, which have saved me so much discomfort over the summer (my favorite shoes EVER), during the school year (though mine are an older version of these), and in general. These last ones, which are called ROCKET (\m/) I bought for walking (it was so nice to be able to tell my mom, ever the spendthrift, "I have a prescription for new shoes!") soon after my diagnosis and Susan, my dry land PT, just adores them. They're supercomfy, insanely supportive (though you do feel kind of like you're going to topple over on the stairs) and vegan, if you care about such things. I've rocked the Rockets for the past couple of days and they've really helped me get back on track from my weekend strain(s).
Shoes are tough for me lately because I have so many pairs I love that I really shouldn't wear anymore. Thankfully Eric's beautiful pup Bella helped me out some the other night by chewing the end off of one of my beloved Reefs, which I REALLY shouldn't wear but can't bear to give up... well, couldn't bear to give up before they had a serrated heel, that is.
Hmmm... yes... stiiilllll waiting... going to sing some Talking Heads to myself now, I suppose. :)
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Off-topic musings on the topic of the day
This is the third September 11th I've spent in a high school, and it's always an interesting day. Most of my kids weren't even 10 in 2001, and probably have no concept of how much the events of that day have shaped the country and the legacy (not to mention the debt!) they've inherited from their parents. In the moment of silence we had this morning I mourned not just for the loss of life but for the loss of freedom, the loss of standing in the world, and I think mostly for our loss of perspective. Tragedies on a much grander scale occur around the world every day, and sometimes in our own names - people seem to have lost sight of that, blinded perhaps by all the flags fluttering in their faces.
It was a JROTC student who led us in a moment of silence, as his fellow uniformed students saluted the half-mast flag - it was also from him that I first heard the term "Patriot Day", which has somehow escaped my notice over the past 6 years (probably because I avoid most reporting on the subject). My mind is boggled. What about the losses we suffered on 9/11 was patriotic? Nothing. It incenses me that people are so afraid of copping to the total senseless absurdity of life sometimes.
It was a JROTC student who led us in a moment of silence, as his fellow uniformed students saluted the half-mast flag - it was also from him that I first heard the term "Patriot Day", which has somehow escaped my notice over the past 6 years (probably because I avoid most reporting on the subject). My mind is boggled. What about the losses we suffered on 9/11 was patriotic? Nothing. It incenses me that people are so afraid of copping to the total senseless absurdity of life sometimes.
Wheels of Steel
At this point no fewer than four people have suggested I get a Segway Scooter (sorry, their website informs me it's called a "Segway Personal Transporter"!) which cracks me up because I didn't know four people even remembered those things existed, Mike Gordon aside. Doesn't she just look so NATURAL standing there?! haha I do appreciate the creativity of my fantastic friends - Chris found a cane with a clock in the handle, though I believe John Powers may have trumped him with the suggestion that I get a cane with a sword in it. Poorly-executed Sean Connery impressions (or at least impressions of Darryll Hammond as Sean Connery) are sure to ensue!
I'm trying to plan a trip down to DC to visit Chris (finally!) next month and it's another reminder of how life-altering this condition is. I shan't be strolling the Mall and the Smithsonian this time around! Chris asked me if I might get a wheelchair for the trip, which is... in a word, depressing. I said "Uh... I'm really not at that point just yet." One of the research survey questions at Children's asked "How often are you aware that you have a medical condition?" on a scale of Never to Always. The answer is always Always. The scant moments where I'm NOT thinking about it (usually when I'm running around in some sort of tizzy and/or fog) are the moments when I turn funny or step wrong and go "Owie!" I can't stomach the thought of considering myself "disabled", especially given some of the other folks I see at the pool, but I am limited in what I can do and I need to work on being less bummed about that. I HATE having to say "I can't walk that far" or "I can't sit there", but... I can't. Hey, but I can still throw a mean frisbee!
In other news, thanks to cnn.com I have Hungry Eyes stuck in my head, which I suppose is an improvement over what I kept finding myself singing in my head last night: "Stan-din TALL on the wings of my dreams..." which is, that's right, the theme song to Perfect Strangers. :)
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
And so it begins...
Yeah, so I know in the song the girl dies, but hip-puns seem de riguer in this business and I love the Roots, so fuck it, The Hipnotic it is!
Oh and hi, welcome to my blog. :) I never really thought I'd have such a thing, but with all the craziness of this year it seemed to make sense. Following several months of increasingly persistent pain in my left hip, I was diagnosed in April 2008 (at the age of 28) with bilateral hip dysplasia. If you google this you will learn lots about dogs and babies, neither of which I, you know, am. But essentially the socket of my hip joint is too shallow, which leads to easy dislocation and the aforementioned pain. By April I was to the point where I was unable to walk without a limp on the left side, especially after getting up from sitting for more than half an hour or so, and waking up in the morning was excruciating.
Thankfully my diagnosis came quickly, after only one set of x-rays, and Dr. Crose, my excellent primary physician, hooked me right up with a physical therapist, Susan Stephen, who is phenomenal. Susan started me with simple exercises to do with a couple balls and therapy bands. From the very first time I did them I felt a huge difference, especially on my left side, where I had lost an incredible range of motion without even realizing it. Weeks of twinges, pangs and pins & needles ensued as I worked to regain even semi-normal function, though all this was nothing compared to the searing lower back pain I began to experience from basically realigning my entire midsection.
Here enter ultrasound massage and Kinesio Tape, my new best friends (along with Susan, my trusty PT), which somehow got me through to pool therapy, which I started in June. The pool... oh, the pool is an experience wholly unto itself. I have seen more, bigger and older boobs in the past 3 months than I'd seen in my entire life previously. I've also experienced the strange sensation of sweating in a pool, which is to be expected when the air temperature is 90 degrees and the water temperature is... 90 degrees! I shudder to think of the toxins I've sweat out onto the poor unsuspecting octagenarians, though I'm pretty sure the (literally) stinking chlorine's killed them off right quick. Uhhh... right, but all that aside the pool is amazing - I'd be miles away from where I am now in terms of strength and endurance without it.
So I've been chugging along well with everything I'm supposed to be doing - taking my piddly daily ibuprofen (since my condition is constantly deteriorating, they don't like to put you on pain meds until they absolutely have to), being mindful of my movements, rocking PT and continuing to lose weight (25 pounds and counting!) - but I'm not getting better. And I've come to terms (sort of!) with the fact that, regardless of how strong or stable I feel, I won't really get "better" without surgery. Here enter Dr. Young-Jo Kim of Boston Children's Hospital, one of only a handful of surgeons on the Eastern Seaboard that performs Periacetabular Osteotomies, the surgery recommended to me by Dr. Bean, the orthopedist at Central Vermont Medical Center responsible for my initial diagnosis. When I saw him he said "I don't know of anyone who does this surgery, but you may be able to talk someone at Dartmouth into giving it a try." Ah, thanks but no thanks dude! And off to Boston I went (4 months later - Dr. Kim's a busy man!).
This past Friday was my first trip to Boston Children's in Waltham, a mere three miles (or 25 driving minutes) from my dear friend Jon Kemp. After some last-minute roadside finagling with insurance (which I could author quite the rant on, given the chance) I went in for my very first MRI. Let me begin by saying that, like many people, I'm terrified of hospitals, mostly because I think of them as a place people go to die, not to get well, but it hadn't occurred to me that, because of its target population, Boston Children's would be a very different hospital experience. More colorful, more friendly, more cutie babies (occassionally screaming) out and about, and sweet fish tanks in the waiting area! Of course it also didn't occur to me that I'd be the oldest "kid" in the place (reading my Harper's with Dora the Explorer on the giant flatscreen), but because they have such a prestigious hip team, everybody pretty much knew what my problem was (at least medically! [haha]) as soon as I walked in the door.
The MRI... well, I was completely freaked out by the prospect of it, but I was totally wrong. Probably the worst part was the injection of the contrast, which produces a very bizarre vein-expanding sensation in one's arm. Here I am today, 5 days later, and my arm STILL hurts! The tech didn't mention that, but I'm assuming it's normal, or at least normal for someone as hypersensitive as I am. I chose earplugs over music for the MRI experience, figuring it'd be more zen, and that the noise of the machine would overpower the music anyhow, which I'm sure it would have. They got me to the point where my nose was in line with the edge of the machine and I could see the cool skylight above me and said "Are you okay there? That's where you're going to be." and I'm thinking "Oh, cool, I'm cool!" as my heart goes "THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP!" And of course they lied to me because 10 minutes later the machine goes "CA-CHUNK-CHUNK!" (it does a lot of that sort of thing) and I slide another 6 inches into the damn thing. I opened my eyes and found myself looking at the inside of the tube. Then I closed my eyes. :)
I can't really explain the sensation of lying perfectly still for 40 minutes while your body feels like it's being pulled through a vibrating microwave. I went on some sort of Internal Fantastic Voyage (probably good prep for my upcoming days in a morphine-induced haze) and felt SO bizarre when I finally got off the table. It wasn't as claustrophobic, nor as uncomfortable as I'd anticipated, and it had an odd brainwipe aftereffect I still find puzzling. I volunteered for a research study on PAOs that will necessitate at least another couple MRIs, though, so I'll have plenty of time for further reflection on the experience.
After a long long wait for my appointment with Dr. Kim (note to self: schedule for Monday mornings, NOT Friday afternoons!) I was taken into the exam room and met Erin Dawicki, Dr. Kim's kind and capable Physician's Assitant. We did the usual intake chat-and-evaluate (which is usually when I realize how truly fucked my left hip is - 10 stinking degrees of rotation!) before being joined by the big man, Dr. Kim. I definitely appreciate his friendly approach to this not-so-friendly procedure, and he laughs when I make a funny, so he's already cool in my book. He confirms for me (then Erin re-confirms) what I've secretly known all along: that I've got a "choice" between a) having this crazy invasive LONNNG-recovery surgery that will likely give me 20 years of normal hip function or b) waiting until the pain is too great to bear, which may happen as soon as 3-5 years from now and also means the cartilage is shot for a PAO and my only option is a total hip replacement (THR - so many acronyms!), which will reduce my mobility and need to be RE-replaced at least once or twice in my lifetime. So... kind of a no-brainer there.
This handy link gives you a good clear cringe-inducing overview of the PAO procedure. Blegh - gives me the willies just looking at it! But that's what I'm doing, dammit, come the end of school. Not that I relish the thought of limping along at this pace for the next 9 months, but I even LESS relish (there's some good grammar for ya) being on crutches for 3 months of the Vermont winter. So I wait, and in the meantime will likely drive everyone (or at least my mom) completely insane with my obsessive preparations. Last night she said "Don't be so worried about it!" and I said "I'm not worried about it, I'm organizing!" which is like maybe 65% true. She told me she could organize it in 5 minutes, which is like maybe 85% true. :)
There are a whole bunch of blogs of ladies who've been PAOed, all of which I've been reading voraciously to try to get a sense of what to expect in terms of recovery. It ain't pretty. After a 5-7 day stay in the hospital post-op I'll likely come home on a walker while working my damndest to get on crutches. I'll be crutching for... 2 months maybe? before downgrading to one crutch and then a cane. So be on the lookout for sweet canes! Oh, and "home" post-op will be my folks' house, which can be made relatively handicapped-accessible, unlike my apartment. So, yeah, I'll be at the mercy of my mom, for better or worse. And, at least at first, for going to the bathroom and showers. :( When I was telling Andrew and Jon about it (and many thanks for letting me vent, boys!) Jon said "So wait, you want us to come up to Vermont in June and kill you?" hahaha It's funny... because it's true. At this point I'm not even freaked about the pain (because what's the point?) but I'm very anxious about the complete and utter loss of independence.
Oh, and my right leg developed a new pain after I saw Dr. Kim, which is just great. Though also dysplastic, rightie's been largely asymptomatic (aside from mad sciatica issues) and Dr. Kim doesn't feel it will worsen significantly even with bearing the brunt of my weight throughout next summer or that it will need to be PAOed as well. As he said "We only operate on the hip that hurts", which sounded great to me... until my right hip started hurting. Still, I know I pushed myself too far Sunday at the ENORMOUS Brimfield Flea Market with the Kemp boys, and I'm hoping this is just an aftereffect. We shall see.
Dear lord this is a lengthy ramble. The first of many to come, I'm sure!
Oh and hi, welcome to my blog. :) I never really thought I'd have such a thing, but with all the craziness of this year it seemed to make sense. Following several months of increasingly persistent pain in my left hip, I was diagnosed in April 2008 (at the age of 28) with bilateral hip dysplasia. If you google this you will learn lots about dogs and babies, neither of which I, you know, am. But essentially the socket of my hip joint is too shallow, which leads to easy dislocation and the aforementioned pain. By April I was to the point where I was unable to walk without a limp on the left side, especially after getting up from sitting for more than half an hour or so, and waking up in the morning was excruciating.
Thankfully my diagnosis came quickly, after only one set of x-rays, and Dr. Crose, my excellent primary physician, hooked me right up with a physical therapist, Susan Stephen, who is phenomenal. Susan started me with simple exercises to do with a couple balls and therapy bands. From the very first time I did them I felt a huge difference, especially on my left side, where I had lost an incredible range of motion without even realizing it. Weeks of twinges, pangs and pins & needles ensued as I worked to regain even semi-normal function, though all this was nothing compared to the searing lower back pain I began to experience from basically realigning my entire midsection.
Here enter ultrasound massage and Kinesio Tape, my new best friends (along with Susan, my trusty PT), which somehow got me through to pool therapy, which I started in June. The pool... oh, the pool is an experience wholly unto itself. I have seen more, bigger and older boobs in the past 3 months than I'd seen in my entire life previously. I've also experienced the strange sensation of sweating in a pool, which is to be expected when the air temperature is 90 degrees and the water temperature is... 90 degrees! I shudder to think of the toxins I've sweat out onto the poor unsuspecting octagenarians, though I'm pretty sure the (literally) stinking chlorine's killed them off right quick. Uhhh... right, but all that aside the pool is amazing - I'd be miles away from where I am now in terms of strength and endurance without it.
So I've been chugging along well with everything I'm supposed to be doing - taking my piddly daily ibuprofen (since my condition is constantly deteriorating, they don't like to put you on pain meds until they absolutely have to), being mindful of my movements, rocking PT and continuing to lose weight (25 pounds and counting!) - but I'm not getting better. And I've come to terms (sort of!) with the fact that, regardless of how strong or stable I feel, I won't really get "better" without surgery. Here enter Dr. Young-Jo Kim of Boston Children's Hospital, one of only a handful of surgeons on the Eastern Seaboard that performs Periacetabular Osteotomies, the surgery recommended to me by Dr. Bean, the orthopedist at Central Vermont Medical Center responsible for my initial diagnosis. When I saw him he said "I don't know of anyone who does this surgery, but you may be able to talk someone at Dartmouth into giving it a try." Ah, thanks but no thanks dude! And off to Boston I went (4 months later - Dr. Kim's a busy man!).
This past Friday was my first trip to Boston Children's in Waltham, a mere three miles (or 25 driving minutes) from my dear friend Jon Kemp. After some last-minute roadside finagling with insurance (which I could author quite the rant on, given the chance) I went in for my very first MRI. Let me begin by saying that, like many people, I'm terrified of hospitals, mostly because I think of them as a place people go to die, not to get well, but it hadn't occurred to me that, because of its target population, Boston Children's would be a very different hospital experience. More colorful, more friendly, more cutie babies (occassionally screaming) out and about, and sweet fish tanks in the waiting area! Of course it also didn't occur to me that I'd be the oldest "kid" in the place (reading my Harper's with Dora the Explorer on the giant flatscreen), but because they have such a prestigious hip team, everybody pretty much knew what my problem was (at least medically! [haha]) as soon as I walked in the door.
The MRI... well, I was completely freaked out by the prospect of it, but I was totally wrong. Probably the worst part was the injection of the contrast, which produces a very bizarre vein-expanding sensation in one's arm. Here I am today, 5 days later, and my arm STILL hurts! The tech didn't mention that, but I'm assuming it's normal, or at least normal for someone as hypersensitive as I am. I chose earplugs over music for the MRI experience, figuring it'd be more zen, and that the noise of the machine would overpower the music anyhow, which I'm sure it would have. They got me to the point where my nose was in line with the edge of the machine and I could see the cool skylight above me and said "Are you okay there? That's where you're going to be." and I'm thinking "Oh, cool, I'm cool!" as my heart goes "THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP!" And of course they lied to me because 10 minutes later the machine goes "CA-CHUNK-CHUNK!" (it does a lot of that sort of thing) and I slide another 6 inches into the damn thing. I opened my eyes and found myself looking at the inside of the tube. Then I closed my eyes. :)
I can't really explain the sensation of lying perfectly still for 40 minutes while your body feels like it's being pulled through a vibrating microwave. I went on some sort of Internal Fantastic Voyage (probably good prep for my upcoming days in a morphine-induced haze) and felt SO bizarre when I finally got off the table. It wasn't as claustrophobic, nor as uncomfortable as I'd anticipated, and it had an odd brainwipe aftereffect I still find puzzling. I volunteered for a research study on PAOs that will necessitate at least another couple MRIs, though, so I'll have plenty of time for further reflection on the experience.
After a long long wait for my appointment with Dr. Kim (note to self: schedule for Monday mornings, NOT Friday afternoons!) I was taken into the exam room and met Erin Dawicki, Dr. Kim's kind and capable Physician's Assitant. We did the usual intake chat-and-evaluate (which is usually when I realize how truly fucked my left hip is - 10 stinking degrees of rotation!) before being joined by the big man, Dr. Kim. I definitely appreciate his friendly approach to this not-so-friendly procedure, and he laughs when I make a funny, so he's already cool in my book. He confirms for me (then Erin re-confirms) what I've secretly known all along: that I've got a "choice" between a) having this crazy invasive LONNNG-recovery surgery that will likely give me 20 years of normal hip function or b) waiting until the pain is too great to bear, which may happen as soon as 3-5 years from now and also means the cartilage is shot for a PAO and my only option is a total hip replacement (THR - so many acronyms!), which will reduce my mobility and need to be RE-replaced at least once or twice in my lifetime. So... kind of a no-brainer there.
This handy link gives you a good clear cringe-inducing overview of the PAO procedure. Blegh - gives me the willies just looking at it! But that's what I'm doing, dammit, come the end of school. Not that I relish the thought of limping along at this pace for the next 9 months, but I even LESS relish (there's some good grammar for ya) being on crutches for 3 months of the Vermont winter. So I wait, and in the meantime will likely drive everyone (or at least my mom) completely insane with my obsessive preparations. Last night she said "Don't be so worried about it!" and I said "I'm not worried about it, I'm organizing!" which is like maybe 65% true. She told me she could organize it in 5 minutes, which is like maybe 85% true. :)
There are a whole bunch of blogs of ladies who've been PAOed, all of which I've been reading voraciously to try to get a sense of what to expect in terms of recovery. It ain't pretty. After a 5-7 day stay in the hospital post-op I'll likely come home on a walker while working my damndest to get on crutches. I'll be crutching for... 2 months maybe? before downgrading to one crutch and then a cane. So be on the lookout for sweet canes! Oh, and "home" post-op will be my folks' house, which can be made relatively handicapped-accessible, unlike my apartment. So, yeah, I'll be at the mercy of my mom, for better or worse. And, at least at first, for going to the bathroom and showers. :( When I was telling Andrew and Jon about it (and many thanks for letting me vent, boys!) Jon said "So wait, you want us to come up to Vermont in June and kill you?" hahaha It's funny... because it's true. At this point I'm not even freaked about the pain (because what's the point?) but I'm very anxious about the complete and utter loss of independence.
Oh, and my right leg developed a new pain after I saw Dr. Kim, which is just great. Though also dysplastic, rightie's been largely asymptomatic (aside from mad sciatica issues) and Dr. Kim doesn't feel it will worsen significantly even with bearing the brunt of my weight throughout next summer or that it will need to be PAOed as well. As he said "We only operate on the hip that hurts", which sounded great to me... until my right hip started hurting. Still, I know I pushed myself too far Sunday at the ENORMOUS Brimfield Flea Market with the Kemp boys, and I'm hoping this is just an aftereffect. We shall see.
Dear lord this is a lengthy ramble. The first of many to come, I'm sure!
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