The Chronicles of the Hip - Chapter One.

Here we go....

 

Starting from the moment of impact. May 5th 2013 - I finished running my first half marathon. In 2 hours and 1 minute. Really? My goal was under 2 hours but the "kill hills" at the end, well, killed me. Yet, this was the most amazing race of my life. Hubby and I crossed the finish line together just as the president of the hospital I work for was placing a medal around my neck and I was about to hurl. Thank goodness I was able to contain my stomach contents. Although, what a great story that would have been....

 

We survived together!

Fast forward a couple days, legs still felt heavy and sore. Being my usual self with the walk it off philosophy, I jumped on the treadmill and instantly knew I made a mistake. It felt like my femur had just been shoved through my hip socket into my abdomen. Jumped off and took a few more days off from running. Tried again and it happened again.
 
Sucked it up and off I went to my primary doctor’s office - X-rays were taken, came back with a normal report (later to come to the conclusion they were not normal and only a trained orthopedic surgeon could spot the problem.) Then came the MRI of the femur, where most of my pain was, to check for a stress fracture: negative. Wait it out a few more months. Start running around, it’s now tolerable – let’s run through it.
 
Finally, after months of the pain not going away I went to my primary doc again and asked for some physical therapy. After a couple months of that not helping, I went to see a sports medicine orthopedist. Now for a hip MRI. That came back normal (if an MRA would have been done, like I had wanted, in the first place the problem would have been found then). Normal MRI showed bursitis. So, off to radiology I went for a cortisone injection into my hip. That was a whole monkey bucket full of fun. It helped some, but not enough. Finally, after 3 months of PT not working the physical therapist told me, "I honestly think you have a labral tear, it’s time to stop therapy and go see Dr. Ryan, an orthopedic surgeon." I was well aware of who Dr. Ryan was; I take care of his patients as an ortho nurse in the hospital. Becoming his patient was the last thing I wanted.....so, I waited some more.
 
Once again, I got tired of the pain. Finally, I got over the fact that it was ok to be his patient. I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Ryan. In my head I was going to get that MRA I thought I needed scheduled. Wrong. After pulling and twisting my leg and making my hip hurt like none other he took another set of plain X-rays that day. Walked in the room and said, "Everyone has been telling you that your X-rays are normal, right?" Well yeah... "They are not normal - here is a pincer impingement right here" as he points to the dryas.  Well, freaking fantastic. Now what?  He sits down and we talk about everything I have already been through to try to fix the problem.  He gives me options. Either A - you live with the theory that if it hurts, don't do it (which meant no running, not even the slightly possible way I was going for that) B - Wait it out and possibly shred the cartilage around my hip socket until it no longer exists. Then I would have rapid onset of arthritis and need a hip replacement. C - We scope it and fix it.

 

I choose C.

 

That day I walked out of the office with a surgery date in my hand and tears in my eyes.

 

I couldn't figure out if the tears were tears of joy because I had answers, or fear. The month after that day were a blur. Busy talking to my boss about getting the time off work, setting up FML and short term disability. Getting equipment dropped off. Figuring out Jeremy's work schedule. Then the morning came, and I was oddly calm. Having Jeremy by my side every single second sure helped. I never could have done this without him and still would not be doing this without him.

 

Here goes nothing!

On the way back to the operating room, things were interesting. They slipped me some versed in my IV as they  were wheeling down the hall. Once we entered the room I just remember looking around and thinking, “This is crazy!” There was this weird contraption to pull my leg out of socket and Dr. Ryan standing down at the end of the table waiting. I felt like I was being rolled into a horrible film and I just sat there stunned until they poked me and told me to slide my butt over to the table. Then the mask was placed on my face....goodnight....sleep tight....then I woke up crying like a baby. No contacts or glasses - left blind as a bat and no Jeremy! Finally, the nurse came in and starting slamming me with fentanyl, then dilaudid, then Percocet, then it was time to go home. Say what?! It all happened so fast, my head was spinning.

 

Up next....the return to home and getting back to a somewhat normal life with my "crunches" by my side wherever I go.