Hip-hop anonymous - a PAO journal

In April, my left hip turned 11. I'm happy to say I'm still doing great, and have even surpassed my own goal of making it more than 10 years (mostly) pain free. At this point, I think you could safely call me a success story. I've been having more pain than usual in my left hip, but it's usually caused by squats and lunges, which are a part of the weight lifting classes I take. May have to rethink those in the near future, but for now, I'll take the bit of pain. Always thankful. My hips are rock stars.

My first hip surgery was 3,652 days ago, which, coincidentally, is probably the number of doubts I had before going under the knife. My decision to have PAOs – and the decade that's followed – have been worth every question and every fear. My hips have been troopers, standing loyally by as I test them at the gym, on the trail, around the city and everywhere in between. If I push too hard, my left hip will let me know, but generally, I have very little pain. I haven't seen a hip doctor in years. I still have a numb patch about the size of a business card on each thigh. A few times a year, I will get that burning, itching nerve pain that irritates me to no end. When overworked, my left hip starts burning near my back, sciatic-style. The scars are still there, of course, but they rarely catch my eye.  All of this seems like a small price to pay for a ticket for admission into this life of mine. Plus, I have 13 screws inside my body that make me feel like a bad-ass. I'm g...

I still have bad dreams about having hip surgeries. It's been nine years since I went under the knife. The surgeries seem far from mind – I don't have daily pain, I don't talk about hip dysplasia, and when I get undressed, I rarely notice the thin white scars on either side of my hips. When I do think about it all, gratitude and pride overwhelm me. I think of my recovery and wonderful life that has followed. It's strange then, that my brain sums up this life-changing event with disturbing scenes from an operating room, flooding me with anxiety and reminding me of the unpleasant parts of PAOs. But maybe the nightmares have some value, after all. Being reminded of the stress and pain and work that went into fixing my hips also reminds me of how strong I was to get through it. Never forget.

Do something for me. Try this stretch if you can. Whether you are pre-op or post-op (just not in the first few months following your surgery!), you might find this feels marvelous, just like I do. (Not me in the video.) It's generally called a glute stretch, but it also works the hips. And it feels. So. Good. It goes without saying (except I'm saying it) that I'm not a doctor or physical therapist, so please use caution and don't hurt yourself. Some people simply may not be able to get into that position.

The good vibrations certainly would be a sweet sensation if only I could feel them. I'm talking, of course, about setting my cell phone to vibrate and putting it in my front pocket, where it inevitably rests against the numb patch of my thigh. When it rings, I don't feel a thing. I've missed many a call this way. But I don't mind. Because between hips that don't feel painful and thighs that don't feel anything at all, I'm a very happy lady. Just leave a voice mail.

My sixth anniversary of my LPAO recently came ... and went, without much ado. While I'll always always be thankful for the surgery that changed my life, it's also one of those events that has taken a back seat in my daily affairs. Which is certainly something you can't ever imagine as soon as the acronym PAO becomes a part of your vocabulary, so I consider even this an accomplishment. Truth is, my hips are exactly the same as they were a year ago, so there's really not much to report. I'm still as active as ever, with some pain if I spend more than a couple of hours strenuously exercising. I still get some random pangs every once in a while, still have nerves that itch and burn, still have a nearly numb patch on my thigh. And I still wouldn't trade one second of my post-op self with my limpy, scared pre-op self. I went in for some hip x-rays a few months back at the local orthopedic center and just had the local hip doc look at them. Dr. Kindsfater is no...

Hip surgery remains − five years later − the smartest, bravest and most significant event of my life. Nothing can top the rewarding feeling of taking my health into my own hands, fighting tremendous fears and physical challenges, and coming through the other side a changed person. That's not to say it's all roses now. In dog years, my left hip is 35. It is starting to act its age, which I don't much like. Despite the increasing pain, I can't get mad at it. It has given me too much. I'm instead resigned, disheartened and even a little scared. The pain I have now is totally different than pre-surgery's. Not in my hip at all, but rather in my back− sciatic pain on the left side. Luckily, it only hurts after a full day's activity, but when it hurts, it's nearly debilitating. I often can't even take a step until I've sat it out for a half hour or so. My right hip gets a little achy sometimes, but it's behaving much better. I'm still su...

It's been four years since my left hip surgery, the day-long event that became a years-long cornucopia for which I am eternally thankful. My thanks does not wane, even though the periods of pain-free living have started to. Between anniversaries three and four, I have to admit that life has been a little tougher. My hips hurt more often and are less willing to take the beatings an active lifestyle evokes. My mind returns to dark places of my past, when pain ruled and I couldn't count on my body. The most challenging aspect is not letting fears and negative thoughts squash the positive feelings and abilities my new hips gave me. Post-surgery pains are completely different than pre-surgery's. Sporadic, unpredictable and in places I didn't think even counted as "hip pain." Post-surgery pains also have been easier to control, just harder to understand. I am considering a visit to a hip doc in my town, rather than a flight to Tacoma to see Dr. Mayo. I need to...

A surgery can change your body. Two surgeries can change everything. Today, on the third anniversary of my LPAO, I inevitably think back to my first operation and the years leading up to that day. Everything has changed. I am an outdoors enthusiast and exercise nut. I can stay on my feet all day. My new body has freed my soul, and my heart responds in kind. The breakdown is exactly the same as it was at two years post-op : zero pain with a couple of exceptions, great range of motion, same tingly patch and itching. The one difference is that my tailbone pain has waned considerably, which gives me much, much relief. I'm a different person today than I was on April 23, 2008, and I'll be forever thankful.

I had my latest hip checkup in May 2009. When I asked Dr. Mayo when he wanted to see me again, he said in two years. Which. Is. ... About now. The thing is, I don't really want to go. My hips feel great and I'm not too excited to make another vacation out of a hip appointment. Come May, I'll be 3 years post-op LPAO and 2½ years RPAO. Which leads me to my question for all the other post-op hip patients out there. How often do you see a doctor for follow-up care?

In 2006, I hobbled around Las Vegas, sore and miserable. Just as I had come to hate big stores, I had come to hate big cities. The pain, and my subsequent bitterness, was huge. Last week, I returned to Sin City. Of course, I knew beforehand that my hips weren't going to cause problems, but walking the Strip was nonetheless freeing and exciting. I did get a dull ache in one hip that came and went, but that's true for anytime I'm on my feet for an extended period of time. Freedom. It was a gamble, but I beat the house, the pain, and the big city. I'm everyday thankful.

It never fails. Whenever I leave Target, the thought of being on crutches surges through my mind, and I go back to 2008, when I was constantly on the lookout for handicapped parking spaces, level surfaces and automatic doors. I'm not sure why this location triggers my memory, but each time I walk out those doors and remember what I went through two years ago, I smile and have a little party in my mind for how effortlessly I walk to my car.

Seems too long ago to be two years post-op. But here I am, stronger than ever and a very different person than I was before I knew how to pronounce periacetabular osteotomy. Surgery is a faint memory, hip pain a whisper. I return to these posts and remember the anxiety, heartache and fear. I draw a deep breath, grateful beyond words and calm through my soul. These surgeries saved me. I think of my indecision to go under the knife and scoff at myself for worrying how others would perceive my choice to walk into an elective surgery just to be wheeled out a week later. This is my life. It was my decision, and I'm so glad I made the right one for me. I'm happy to report that the issues I had at the one-year mark have greatly improved and I have practically zero problems or pain. Some things are different, however: Range of motion is about 90 percent of what it was pre-surgery. I can feel the entire section of my thigh, though mostly with a tingly sensation. I still get deep ran...

Lately I've been thinking a lot about risks. There's no reward without them, they say. No payoff without some chance. I don't know why or how I was able to take that risk of not just one, but two PAOs two years ago. I do know, however, that doing so has given me hope that someday I will take another chance. A chance, maybe, of trying something new, of meeting someone new, of putting my life on the line again. While my heart is a continual reminder of the damage that can come from risk, I am so grateful that my hips faithfully tell me the opposite: "To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing."

My left hip turned 2 today. Like a toddler, it asserts its independence more each day. It says "no" to sitting on the couch, "no" to giving up on ever-so-challenging squats and lunges and "no" to the life I led two years ago. I happily report: I have zero restrictions. I have zero pain when walking, working out, etc. Range of motion is about 95% of what it was before surgery. My "numb" patch is now a "tingly" patch. There now is sensation where there was none before. Because of this, I still get the deep itching, stabbing pain in my thigh on occasion. My only issue is when I work out too hard or lie in a certain position. Then I get a deep pain on my backside at the top of the pelvis. I also still feel the deep groin pain I've had since surgery when doing "clam shell" type movements or deep squats and lunges. Tailbone pain also turns 2 today. Boo. I couldn't be more proud of my 2-year-old!

I have to admit my guilt. I've been feeling bad for how well I've been doing. After reading through a few of my hip sisters' blogs and recently receiving news of another hip sister who has been through a terrible time, I question whether I should continue to post my successes. I know how it feels. The envy, the disappointment, the "why me." The "why not me." I don't want to cause anyone to feel this way after reading my posts. So I ask myself: Why do I post the good stuff? And I answer: For a personal record of my journey. For a reminder of how far I've come. For never forgetting to be thankful for my good fortune because it could be gone tomorrow. And most importantly, to inspire all of you who hope to reach the point I'm at today. So I continue to write about my physical and emotional successes and hope you understand my reasons. And if you don't, maybe it will make you feel better knowing that I still have chronic tailbone pain. :)

I'm not much of a snow person. I detest being cold and hate having to bundle up. Despite that, my sister talked me into trying snowshoeing, an activity that I used to fear not only for the aforementioned reasons, but because I knew it would hurt my hips. But fear not, because on my first snowshoeing adventure, it was so warm that we shed our coats, and my hips hardly hurt! We hiked almost four miles and had a wonderful time. On the straight stretches, my hips did start to ache, but I didn't have problems going up or down, which I find strange. So that's the great news. I'm still trying new things that I was unable to do before surgery, and I'm pushing myself to new limits. The not-so-great news is that I am starting to have more pain than I did six months to a year ago. (I'm coming up on the two-year mark for the left hip and the one and a half year mark on the right.) After an hour or two of activity, and sometimes for no reason at all, I feel random pains in e...

Last weekend, I did something I never would have been able to do prior to surgery: 4 hours of intense workouts. In a row. My gym released new programs for its group fitness classes and invited us to try them all in a day. Doing so meant I was eligible for a free trip to the mountains. I didn't win the trip, but I did get the awesome feeling of accomplishment (and exhaustion) when it was all over. My hips were a bit sore but not too bad. Body Pump | Body Combat | Body Flow | Body Jam The biggest part, though, is simply the feeling of empowerment. Things have been tough for me the past couple of weeks, and it feels wonderful to be able to compensate my lack of emotional strength with physical powe r .

This is the first year since 2006 that I have zero commitments regarding my hips. No doctor's appointments, no physical therapy, no thoughts about healing. I'm doing very well, continuing to make progress the right hip that has been hurting since surgery. Around the 14-month post-op mark, I was finally able to sit cross-legged again. It's still a little uncomfortable, but getting easier each time. The burning sensation is getting better and so is my strength and flexibility. My right thigh is still a bit smaller than my left, proof that there still is work to be done. I'm still in awe at how long the recovery process is, but I'm happy that I keep doing better and better. Happy new year!

A year ago today, I woke up in a plush hotel that overlooked Commencement Bay in Tacoma, Washington. My mom and I took an early morning walk in the misty weather and picked up giant, brightly colored fall leaves from the ground. A few hours later, my pelvis was cut open for my second surgery in seven months. It seems like much longer than a year since that day. My initial recovery was smooth, and though it was not easy going through the long process, I'm so glad I did. Happy to report I can: Walk, run, do squats, lunges, with no pain in the joint, no matter how hard I work it. (And I've been working it pretty hard.) No limp or sign of dysplasia/surgery. Sleep on my side all night. Feel a larger percentage of my thigh (85 percent), though with a tingly sensation. Wishing these things get better: Strong burning sensation that remains on the very front of the hip when lifting my leg, aka my "Captain Morgan" position. I still have to lift my leg with my hand to avoid pain...