It’s been three years since I’ve harvested a deer. I only had one real chance, but couldn’t get a shot. I blame some of the paucity of deer on fewer bucks where I hunt, but mostly on a hip that was bad and getting worse. I couldn’t get very far from the beach.
My hip was first diagnosed with bursitis, and I did various physical therapy for it. The first Physical Therapist I had told me losing weight would help alot, but I didn’t take that to heart.
Fast forward to fall 2024, and I decided to see Dr. Dan, my chiropractor, to see if he could provide any relief. He sent me straight away for an xray, so he wouldn’t make anything that’s bad, worse. A doctor at the hospital gave the verdict: arthritic deterioration of my left hip and lower back.
Well, now it was time to look for a hip replacement. I started asking around. First, I learned of the advancement in hip replacement. They used to go in from the back of the body (posterior). Now, some doctors are trained to do it from the front (anterior). Anterior replacements reportedly have a lot shorter recovery time. So let’s find a doc that does that.
My niece’s best friend growing up is now a Physical Therapist, and I soon realized PTs are great references, because they see the handiwork of all the doctors. She gave me a name. Three other people who did not know each other, or her, gave me the same name. I went to see our general practitioner (and family friend) in December for a referral. Earliest I could get in to see the orthopedic doctor – in Seattle at Virginia Mason where he’s located – was March.
Awhile later, the PT gave me another name. A doctor she’d heard good things about that did anterior replacements was coming down to Juneau from Anchorage monthly to serve Southeast Alaska. He’d worked down here previously in some capacity, as he did Jeff’s knee replacement. The doc had his resume’ online. He grew up in Anchorage, had done some fellowships, etc. He’d worked in Cambodia for an 8 week stint, which I liked both for the humanitarian aspect, and for working somewhere where hygiene may take extra attention to prevent infection (one of my biggest worries). And, he could do the surgery here, which was really something I wanted. I called the next day, and had an appointment for the end of January.
was his first patient that day. They said to show up 15 minutes early for my 8 am appointment, as I needed to do paperwork. I arrived at 740 am. The door was locked and the lights in the front of the building were dark. About 10 minutes later, I saw a kid walk in the door. I figured he might be a high schooler whose parent worked there and came there before he went on to school at 9 am. When I went to the door, he saw me and opened the door. He asked if I was a patient, or if I worked there. Patient, I said. “Hi, I’m your doctor!”. Too funny. He then scampered around his secretary’s desk area for my needed paperwork. I liked him already. He didn’t feel too important to find the paperwork for me. When the staff arrived about 8 am, the nurse took my paperwork, then took my temperature and took me to a scale for my weight. Dang. That scale seemed heavy. I’d never weighed THAT much. I did have my winter coat and cutoff Xtra Tuff boots on, I guess.
The doctor then came in to talk to me about my condition and my options. I was a candidate for replacement: did I want it? Yes, I said. You know it’s a remote possibility that a lot of bad stuff, including death, can occur with a replacement, he advised me. You still want it? Yup, I said. He then went over the procedure with his handy model, the process of a preoperative appointment in mid March, and the surgery at the end of March. He was patient with my questions and took all the time we needed. Not in a rush to get on to the next patient. I liked that. Just like our GP. His last comment was a little ominous. First, he asked how tall I was. Six two, I said. He looked at me a little dubiously. Then I thought: I haven’t had my height measured since high school. And, I’ve heard people can shrink when they get old. And I thought, you ARE getting old. Then he said your BMI needs to be below 40 or I won’t do the surgery, and that’s a hard and fast rule with me. Essentially: get some lard off that ass. (When I got measured at my GP’s office a few weeks later, I found I was now just five feet eleven and three quarters. Not even six feet tall anymore!)
Over the next month and a half, I don’t remember being this focused on something in a long while. I needed to lose weight. And I knew how to do it. Exercise and diet. Duh.
The day I left the doctor’s office, I cut out sugar and high carb favorites like bagels, potatoes, and apple fritters. My diet was now salad for dinner, made from our subscription of greens from Juneau Greens, tomatoes and cucumbers from Costco, and venison or fish from the freezer on top. Life got easier for Sara, too. She’d been using one of the weight loss drugs for going on a year, maybe, and had lost 30 lbs. It was easy for her to lose weight when I was in Craig last spring to fall, but got harder when I got home and was back buying foods I liked. Now, we were both on the same page.
I had been cross country skiing regularly, but not going near as far as I used to on a failing hip. Now I was on a mission. Screw the bad hip. I started skiing with a purpose, a little further every day or two. I wanted more of a workout than just skiing to sweat more. What to do with a bad hip. Firewood, I thought. I started dropping dead trees in the woods behind the house, bucking them up, and splitting them. I just split and split. I’d worry about what to do with it all later.
The weight started melting off. Then the snow melted off, too. So I turned to swimming. I’ve never swam for exercise, just for enjoyment. The recent trip to Kauai got me into the water snorkeling, and that was a sort of head start. I started off being able to swim 8 pool lengths. And I really liked it. I could go at my own pace, and slow down if needed. I increased the number of lengths I swam as the days went on, and experimented with different swimming strokes till I found a balance I liked between crawl, breast stroke and side stroke – each stroke using a different leg kick to keep my hip moving in all directions. In a week or so, I was up to 20 pool lengths.
I became obsessed with my weight status, measuring it each morning, and sometimes after skiing or swimming or splitting wood to measure each activity’s effect.
When I returned to the doctor’s office for my preoperative meeting, I knew I’d be weighed again. And I was ready for it. I got on the scale with stocking feet, a tee shirt and light pants on this time. I was down 30 lbs. And it wasn’t even hard. I felt great. I realized when someone asked about my sciatica issue that it had vanished without me even noticing it – from the swimming.
When I quit swimming a couple days before the surgery, my legs were tight the next few mornings from missing the exercise. I was going to miss swimming for the next month or so, until my incision healed. I quit wood splitting at about the same time so as not to chance a last minute injury which could postpone the surgery, and covered my piles of wood with some metal roofing to keep it from rotting in place (it can do that here). I would miss the wood splitting, too, til I healed up.
On operation day, Bob picked me up about 20 minutes before my appointment to get to the hospital at the noon appointment time. The hospital called as I was getting in the truck. There was an emergency that they needed the surgery room for. Come in an hour later, they said. Luckily, Bob had some errands to do, so we did those, and I still got to the hospital plenty early. I got checked in, and the nurse got me into my gurney and a hospital gown. She said it was going to be awhile, so relax.
Just before 3 pm, the nurse got the IV in. The anesthesiologist came in and said I could get a general or a spinal anesthesia. Then the doctor came in, said the same thing, and that he preferred a spinal. I knew I would rather have a general, but now was conflicted. When the anesthesiologist returned and said if I wanted a local, then that was fine, I was still conflicted. When he then said of the two surgeries the doctor had already done today, one was a general and one as a spinal, I went with the general.
Awhile later, down the hall we went, and into the surgery. I sort of knew that this was more an auto shop repair, and not a delicate procedure, and I tried not too look at all the stainless steel tools in the room. The anesthesiologist added something to my IV, and my hand got uncomfortable – a stinging burn, I think. When he said he was going to put me out, the stinging burn intensified………………….and then I woke up.
I woke up about 710 pm. I seemed pretty coherent. I had a new hip. I had a little pain in my leg. By 730 pm, the pain was mostly gone. I figured it was pain medicine. My nurses got to nursing me. One nurse I figured out was the best friend of one our best friend’s son’s wife, and her husband was a best friend of another best friend’s son who had been hunting at our cabin. The other nurse somehow knew of a player for the St. Louis Cardinals from her hometown area of Hawaii who, turns out, is playing on the same team as the player the son in law of Chris and Sheila from Mississippi coached in high school. I love our little berg.
The nurses kept me in drinks and put things in my IV from time to time. The Hawaiian asked me if I’d peed. No, I said. I tried for about a half hour into a jug in bed. No dice. She said let’s try this standing up. So I stood between both of the nurses at my bedside (the nurses were there so I wouldn’t fall) with the jug held under my hospital gown for about 5 minutes, and I said I just am not used to peeing with a pretty woman on either side of me. The Hawaiian said let’s try a catheter. I said let’s try me just sitting on the toilet. They helped me for my first walk into the adjoining bathroom, and as I tried to figure out how to sit down with the new leg, the Hawaiian said just kick that leg out, and sure enough, down I went. The girls cleared out of the bathroom, and I sat there for a good twenty minutes, with the nurses checking on me now and then. Finally, the dam broke, and I peed. The girls came back and got me into bed. The Hawaiian checked the toilet to be sure I went, then said I bet I was glad she didn’t have to use the catheter that she now wheeled out of the room. I assured her I was. I stayed awake watching television till about 4 am, and finally drifted off to sleep, with virtually no pain in my leg. Maybe that would come on Day 1 post-op.
I was awaken a little after 8 am by the morning crew. I recognized one of my new nurses, but it took me awhile to place her. Then I had it: she was in a photo of my salmon trolling mentor Joe, in the hold of his boat, offloading a nice catch of king salmon. Another nurse helping out came by for something, and we got talking, and she was the sister of a commercial fisherman I knew. Her dad fished, too. When I said I was watching the college basketball tournament, that lit her up even more, as she was interested in who was winning so she could see how her bracket was doing. I thought again how lucky I was to be able to have this surgery in Juneau.
About 9 am, a guy came buy and gave me a device. I was to suck on the tube to move the gizmo up to the arrow 10 times an hour to keep my lungs clear and discourage pneumonia.
About 10 am, the physical therapist came in. We took a walk around the ward, then she took me to a room with prop steps. I went up and down the steps. She said I was approved for discharge.
I hoped to be discharged by noon, but noon stretched to 2 pm. I called the doctor’s office. He had to discharge me, they said, and he was busy with office visits. No worries, I thought. As long as I didn’t have to stay another night. 4 pm and my phone was about to die. That was not good. I needed the phone to relay my status to Bob, my ride. The basketball bracket nurse took it to the nurses’ desk to get me a charge. As the clock wound past 5, the fish crew nurse said you’re ready to get discharged, and asked me a pile of questions on how I was feeling, etc. I texted Bob that I would be ready to go. Then the doctor came by. He looked like he’d had a full day, with a demeanor like he’d had an adrenaline-filled few days in his wood shop, doing something he was good at. He said my surgery was textbook, and showed me a photo of the xray of my new hip. Still little pain, I said. You’re good to go, he said.
The fish crew nurse said she’d give me a wheelchair ride to the front door. When we arrived, it was Kurt, not Bob, picking me up. I bet Bob had a gig tonight, I thought. Yup, Kurt said. I’m your ride. I easily negotiated getting into his small truck. Still little pain in the leg.
When we got home, I used the walker to hobble into the house. Sara arrived soon after. I negotiated the way to my bedroom, and got in to bed.
The next day- Day 2 post surgery- and still little pain in the leg. I was issued a pile of opiate drugs that I was only to use as necessary, along with over the counter aspirin and pain relievers that I was to use as my primary pain and swelling control. I graduated from the walker to the cane, as the walker was harder to use around the house, and the cane provided ample control.
The doctor had issued me a 20 page document outlining the process for hip (and knee) replacement. Now I was in the post operation section. The document said to take it easy the first week and don’t overdo it. Walk as I can in 3 to 5 minute trips. I walked around the inside of the house several times. Then I walked down to the mailbox to check the mail. Oooh. It’s a little effort to walk back up the little incline to the back door. You did just get a new hip. It will be a while.
When I awoke on day 3, I could feel more healing overnight. I was up by 6 am. Took my first walk to Katie’s mailbox next door to add just a little distance. I’d made three trips by 10 am. By noon, I’d ditched the cane. I could walk without it. Andrew came by with West African peppe soup. Then Emmanuel a few hours later. Then Nevette and Peter. In between, I saw Cornell University, where Roxanne’s son Sullivan plays, lose a heartbreaker in overtime to Boston U, who moved on to the Frozen Four. We told Nevette and Peter we’d probably be able for dinner with Bob and Laura as my recovery was miraculous thus far. I took my non-prescription pain medications because that was advised (and included for reducing inflammation, and that’s a good thing), along with regularly icing the incision area. Had I not been advised to do so, I would not have taken the meds, because I wasn’t in much pain.
Seriously, what a time we are living in. At least those of us in the Developed world. There will always be a tinge of guilt getting something like this done, knowing villagers in West Africa still don’t have universal clean drinking water. Not that my not having the surgery could fix this, but the thought is there, nonetheless. Another permanent side effect of Peace Corps.
