Thursday, April 21, 2022

 Thursday, April 21, 2022

  I woke up at 3:30 pm and had trouble falling back asleep. I worried about the upcoming Total Hip Replacement surgery. At Tuesday’s PT appointment,  Katie mentioned a problem with osteoporosis. I was told I had the bones of an eighty-year-old at the age of fifty. Why did I know my bone density at that age? I asked for a bone density test to get a baseline. The results were a big surprise. I took medication for 10 years. While it was not supposed to regrow my bones, it was expected to strengthen the bone matrix. The remaining bone won’t grow around the implant if the osteoporosis is bad enough. When I got up. I checked the Internet. I could suffer from late aseptic loosening. That means the medical contraption would not be properly attached. My leg would hang loosely, useless. 

   Yvette canceled yoga again because all the other students weren’t coming. She was grateful. Her sleep was messed up because of her cat Brooklyn. He had dementia. Periodically he would set up howling. The first time I heard it, I thought it was a baby crying. I was concerned. This howling went on during the night. After a while, I didn’t hear it anymore. I knew what was happening, and I could do nothing about it. Yvette got up during the night to comfort the disoriented animal. She didn’t get good sleep.

    It was good she canceled the yoga because I got up late again, 6:45. I remembered to move the car last night. I should have set my alarm for six am to remind me not to linger in bed. I would barely have had time to walk Elsa before the class. 

     I called Jean, my friend. She sent me inconvenience underpants from Willow, saying it’s the best, absorbent, and comfortable. I wanted to wear it during the operation and immediately after recovery so I didn’t have to worry about going to the bathroom during the night.

      I sent a letter to Dr. Salassa, my orthopedic surgeon. I had concerns because two body workers (a PT and an acupuncturist) told me I wouldn’t be happy with a THR.

-My atrophied muscles in my left leg are not a result of my hip problem but the cause.

I had disproportionally put weight on my right leg since I was twelve. I don’t know if it was caused by my spinal curvature or a result. They anticipate my recovery will be more difficult.

-I also have osteoporosis. I was told I had the bones of an eighty-year-old when I was 50. There has been some additional loss in the last thirty-one years. 

-If I run into problems due to osteoporosis and require a revision, how much does success depend on surgical skill versus the degree of osteoporosis? I understand that statistically, only 5% of cases cannot be resolved.  

-My bone problems are caused by some difficulty absorbing minerals. I have always been physically active, eaten a healthy diet, and never had an alcohol problem. I did smoke from age 15-34 a lot. 

-Will untreated aseptic loosening be as problematic as a fractured femoral head? 

-From what I’ve read, late aseptic loosening is often successfully repaired in all but 5% of cases. I had a bone density test after 2014 here in Hawaii. Should I get another bone density test before surgery? Love to hear what you think.

My case may not be standard, requiring longer fossilization and a possible stint in a rehab facility. I would prefer to know what my chances are beforehand. 

-I am prepared for a difficult recovery because of my circumstances. I am concerned that I will be worse off than I am now. I want to do it now to avoid femoral head collapse, 

FYI: I had an MRI, which required me to lie on my back with my legs straight for forty-five minutes. I experienced excruciating pain in the area of my left SI joint. I got up and walked out to the reception area afterward. Shortly after I sat down, I went into a full-body spasm that lasted about two hours. I’m thinking about my body’s reaction to lying on my back for 4 (?) hours.

The spasming is a temporary condition, not prohibitive. I don’t know its impact if it occurs during a surgical procedure. I thought you should have a head’s up.     

   There is a funny story with this event. As my husband and I sat in the waiting area, I moaned in pain, occasionally taking a break to comment on the flooring. My husband, embarrassed by my moaning, wanted to get me out of there as soon as possible. I was able to walk. I went for the grab rail on the wall- I had to reach up. A man in the reception area yelled out, “Get that woman a wheelchair!” 

    I had an appointment with Shelly today. I made my position on how I wanted to work on my fear explicit. She agreed with me. I was concerned she would mind because of some comments she had made recently. I was relieved. When confronted with my fearful response, previous therapists argued that I was out of touch with reality. No. I was perfectly in touch. I understood that there was no serious threat; I understood I was dealing with a coiled rope, not a snake. For me, the problem was the uncontrollable fear response.

   I would jump at some unexpected sound in my early years with Mike. He would make fun of me. It was torture. I persuaded him to stop, convincing him I had no control over my response. That’s what trauma does. The body takes off and does its own things, bypassing the mind. I tried to sit with the fear. I told Shelly all the way the fear response had already improved. Being without Mike has brought it up again. 

   I had the image of fear standing behind me with its claws in my shoulders. It was larger than me and had a monster’s face. I spent time trying to pull away from it. I finally turned around to face it instead of running from it. It had to be cut down to its appropriate size. Fear needs to be accepted but controlled.

   Fear is like our beloved dogs that bark at everything. My thirteen-pound dog, Elsa, ruthlessly attacks vacuum cleaners and Mac trucks as they come down the road. Yeah, she’s crazy. But I know if anything unexpected happens, she will alert me. Fear is a valuable part of us. As with all good things, there’s such a thing as too much and at the wrong time. 

  Therapists thought I was afraid of anger. Nay. I was afraid of fear. The anger was just my coping mechanism. I preferred anger over fear. As I write, I still do. It’s like favoring one child over another or the right side of my face over my left. I’d better accept it all as is if I want to live in peace with myself. All emotions have a rightful role. Fear, if proportionately too small or too large, are a problem.

     I have been searching for childcare for 5-year-old Sidney when Shivani comes to visit and take care of me post-surgery. The first I heard childcare was $35-40 an hour. When I checked with Shivani, she said she paid $15-20 in Pacifica, California. The cost is double here. When I spoke to Jazzy about it, she said that’s how it is. Childcare is hard to come by. This makes me particularly angry because I have trouble getting that much for tutoring. I have a master’s degree in reading, fifty years of experience, and an impressive success rate. Terrifying.

     I added a medley of cooked vegetables to the disappointing Chinese chicken soup last night, left it in the fridge overnight, and warmed it up tonight. So much better than what it was. See, I can cook!! 

   In the evening, I worked on editing Tuesday’s entry on my visit to Lex Brodie for my car inspection. An image of a letter from the motor vehicle bureau flashed into my mind. I had noticed it when I picked up the mail and then only pulled out another piece from the pile and tossed the rest into the garbage. I got up immediately to check. Yep. There was my car registration form in the trash. I wrote the check immediately and put it in the mail. That’s done.