Hip-hop anonymous - a PAO journal

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...

My second PAO is long since over. But the bills may never stop. Just this week, I got insurance paperwork and a bill in the mail for the CPM machine I used almost one year ago. One year. I swear I don't know what I've paid for and what I haven't. And I'm pretty darn sure the health insurance company, hospital, clinics and equipment companies don't have a clue either. But one year later? Please. End rant.