I have the grace of a rhinoceros

(and the nose of one, too!)

I fell. Down the stairs. It was just 3, though!

I’m fine. But I find it super funny that I fell and I actually said “no no no no no” out loud because I was afraid I’d popped my hip out of its socket.

There I was … walking down the stairs. Had some long pants on, and the combination of the fabric under my heel and my wicked awesome foot placement too close to the end of the step ended with me on my ass. It wasn’t one of those crap I’m gonna fall things. It was more of a *bam* what the hell just happened to me? things.

Today I have some bruising and feel like I ran full speed into a brick wall. Otherwise I’m alright. My ortho said not to worry. If I can still walk that means I didn’t cause any permanent damage.

In other news – I managed to go 4 months without falling! Woohoo!

pigs are flying

I’m going to be serious.

I know.

It’s crazy… this Saturday is my 4 monthiversary. The longest 4 months of my life, but months that went by crazy fast. It’s an odd little mix.

5 months ago, Sawyer tripped me on the stairs. I fell. I cried (which should tell you how damn bad it hurt). I put off going to the doctor because I felt SO stupid saying “my cat tripped me on the stairs, ow”. I gave in when it didn’t get better. They said I probably had bursitis. I was referred to my Ortho. My biggest fear was needing a cortisone injection. I had an MRI just to be safe. He called me and said I had avascular necrosis (aka: osteonecrosis – refer to post 1 if you need that fun little recap). My options were let the bone die, or get a hip replacement. I didn’t cry.

But I did sit on the stairs and have a cocktail. (Natasha will love that one!)

4 months ago I was prepping for the surgery of old people. In horrible pain because my bone was dying. I was terrified about what the future held, but hoping that the stupid surgery was going to fix me. I woke up from my surgery in an ungodly amount of pain. I needed help for ever-y-thing. I found out that when the surgeon said I’d be swollen, that I would be SWOLLEN. I was miserable. And pretty convinced that I would never feel good again.

3 months ago I was attached to crutches. My toilet seat was geriatric. I couldn’t take a step without those damn crutches. I couldn’t go to the store. I couldn’t carry something around unless it was in a bag with handles because I needed my hands to be free for my crutches. I couldn’t lean down to pet my cats. I had to sleep on my back – when I could sleep, which was rare. I was in so much pain, I didn’t remember what feeling normal felt like.

2 months ago I was going crazy with loneliness. I begged my friends to hang out with me, but didn’t have the energy to go out when they invited me anywhere. They were getting tans. I was watching the same movie for the 100th time. I literally started to think I was going cuh-razy. Towards the end of this month, I got my crutch sentence reduced from 1 to 2. I was overjoyed. Life became different with my new (still lame) mobility.

1 month ago the crutches went away. I had a pimp limp, which was very frustrating. My doctor finally prescribed PT for me. No crutches AND PT? Holy ish. It was like winning the lottery.

(Except the lottery giveth money, and surgery + medical bills + doctors visits + crutches taketh away.)

So, I’ve been in PT for awhile now. From what I am told, no more pimp limp. I still have it a little bit when I’ve been sitting or lying for awhile, but movement relieves me. I’m sure that eventually I’ll move normally all the time. I still want to run my crutches over. Or burn them.

To hell with saving them, they only cost 30 bucks!

Today I feel pretty amazing. I’m amazed every time I can carry groceries up the stairs. Or something to my car. Or walk around without having to look around me to see what I can grab onto if I need stability. I can swim. I can move. I can even dance (badly). I can go out with my friends and not feel bad. I no longer have to worry about how inconvenient it would be to go here or there. I have pain, but it’s not that often and not that bad.

Now that I look back on the events of the past many months, I realize that I AM as tough as I thought. Probably tougher (patting myself on the back). I was reminded that I have an amazing support system in my husband, family, and friends (except Heath and Laura, who gave me Twister, jerks!). I really hope that the feeling of love and support never gets too far from my little mind. And I hope that I never stop being grateful for the little things.

Okay, sorry, that was sappy. I warned you.

Perhaps tomorrow (or in the next 2 weeks, you all know what “tomorrow” means) I will amuse you with tales of hip replacement cards and some fancy new photos.

oh, so it’s YOUR fault

Physical therapist – My name is spelled like yours! Is your name pronounced Rachelle?
Me – Yes
PT –  People call me Rachelle all the time, but mine is pronounced Rachel (say whaaaat?).
Me – Oh, people call me Rachel all the time.

See, there is the problem. Someone is walking around with a name that ends in -elle yet saying her name is Rachel.

Anyway, I saw the ortho this morning. Hattie Jr. still looks good. And he finally ordered PT for me. So, I get to go twice a week for the next month. I’m really relieved to have a professional directing where I go from here. The great news I can go back to the gym and workout now. Yaay! Cause I’m mooing it up big time. Even better? I cannot run, do squats, or do lunges. Is this heaven?! Those are the things I loathe, and now I have a doctor’s note saying I don’t have to do any of them…ever. Score! This hip thing is already paying for itself.

I can also sleep on my left side (yesssss), as well as move my leg up so I can reach my foot more easily to paint my toenails, and walk without my crutch when I want. I’ll still use it in public until my limp is better, but when I’m at home I don’t have to worry.

With the PT, hopefully my limp will be almost gone before I start school later this month.

We went on a little vacay last weekend, and Hattie Jr. didn’t give me any trouble. My doctor told me not to go, but I did anyway. I know they have to cover their butts, so he was never going to actually say it’s okay to go. I’m glad we went, because it was fun and I got a sweet tan.

We’re not doing the other hip any time soon. I decided that I’m going to “run this bitch into the ground” before I have surgery on it. Getting the left one done was a good choice at the time, but there’s no rush to take care of Ethel. It makes financial “sense” to do it now, but for the sake of my sanity, I cannot handle getting the other done. Not now. Not for a few years. So, hopefully she’ll hold up for a while. Go Ethel!

I have x-ray photos but they aren’t very new or exciting. Leg length is good (thank goodness) and everything else is good. 🙂

I feel like, better.

I don’t feel normal, but I feel better. For some reason yesterday I just realized that I’m getting better. I damn near burst into tears. But I haven’t cried during this whole ordeal, so I might as well not start now.

I had a great weekend. Went swimming. Got sun. It felt fantastic getting in the water so I’m for sure going to take advantage of the pool at our gym. I still walk with 1 crutch, but I try to use it a bit less when I’m at home. I have a major limp, so I refrain from walking without an aid in public.

Here’s hoping things keep getting better!

Guess who’s slept 3 nights in a row with NO medication? This girl! Woot!

It’s nice to feel rested. I had forgotten what that felt like.

However, it’s always an exchange. I can sleep, but now I have this sharp, pulsing pain in my left hip. Oh well. Being in pain is a lot easier (for me) than being tired.

And that’s life.

security fail… but wheelchair WIN

please pass the Prozac

I have good days and bad days. I think today is one of those bad days. This surgery is really screwing with my summer. I’ve had to miss out on so many fun things, and the hits just keep coming. I want to be able to jump in a lake, I want to be able to sit in an inner tube, I want to be able to stay up past 11pm on a Friday night. But I can’t, so I don’t. It sucks.

I’m 2 days shy of my 2 month “hipiversary” and honestly, it’s starting to feel like 2 years.

On one hand it’s already been 2 months, and on the other well, it’s ONLY been 2 months. I think I have really high expectations of myself, so not feeling up to do x,y, or z is taking its toll.

I try to be funny, and sound flippant, but this really is a big deal. And there are a lot of times where I just can’t muster up the energy to get ready to go out. There are just activities that I don’t feel like participating in. So, while I desperately want people to include me in things, when invitations come my way I don’t or can’t always go. How’s that for a kick in the ass?

Oh, and if I don’t start sleeping through the night on the chop chop, I’m going to jump off a cliff anyway. So, that will solve my problem anyway. 🙂

because I’m just not this clever

Jackie has managed to sum up many of my feelings about MS in this here post:

http://www.themsblog.com/1/post/2009/03/return-of-the-pessimist.html <— Jackie, how the hell do I make this a link?

Enjoy!

And seriously, read her other blog (I shared the link in earlier posts). She manages to make crap bags hilarious.

all I want to do is what I want to do and not listen to you!

…for lack of a better blog entry title.

Around 2am as I laid there wide awake, I realized I actually had something good to say. But then I fell asleep and forgot.

I apparently did not learn my lesson earlier in life. Because when I was in school this would happen ALL the time. I’d have a wicked smart idea for a paper, not get up to make the note, then forget.

So…update…

I got nothin’…

Oh, wait! I’m walking with one crutch (or still walking with 1 crutch if I’ve already told you/seen you/written about it). I’m really moving up in the world! The problem with one crutch is that if it slips on or gets caught on something, I do not have another crutch to lean on (literally! ha). So, since the time I moved to 1 crutch I’ve almost bit it at least 10 times. Probably more than that, but that’s all I’m admitting to.

I’m also tired of hearing they “don’t order PT for hip replacements”. Seriously people, I NEED like, a trained person to help me regain my ability to not look totally retarded when I walk, as well as plans for the future. I would really prefer to not get my PT tips from Google. I mean, Google misdiagnoses people ALL the time. It’s told me I have about 7 different kinds of cancer, and it told Cara she had cancer AND meningitis. C’mon, Google! You’re about as accurate as the Omaha meteorologists.

Hattie Jr. (aka Pinkie) has made some accomplishments, as of late:

1. Concert
She survived a night of drinking and (sort of ) dancing at the concert of the older version of this man:

Don’t even dare ask me who this is. If you do, our friendship is over.

I digress. The concert was so much fun and we got sweet ass parking (shout out to my parking placard!). I was feeling crappy and crabby that day, but I’m glad we went. I didn’t get my dream front row seats, but row 16 ain’t bad. I sort of wish I’d taken my camera.

2. CWS
She managed to sit through (and actually enjoy) 11 innings of the final CWS game at the ‘Blatt. Not only this, but South Carolina won, making my 23$ “Fear the Cocks” shirt delightfully worth it. Post-game they did a little Rosenblatt video, and the night ended with fireworks and a rendition of Take Me Out to the Ball Game that was sadder than I ever thought possible. We’re talking single trumpet, slow version sadness. It was like Taps for the stadium. The point of the story is it was fun, the weather was amazing, the game lasted about 5.5 hours, and I survived. I also managed not to kill the annoying kids behind me, the drunk man down the row who kept shouting “come on baby, come on baby” at BOTH teams because he was so drunk he didn’t know who he liked anymore, or my friend Andrew with whom I went to the game. All in all, a winning evening!

And here’s my current status:

1. stir crazy
2. crazy
3. sleep deprived
4. walkingly challenged (that’s right, I said walkingly)
5. b-o-r-e-d
6. paranoid (thanks a lot Dr. Google)
7. rinse, repeat, add a thunderstorm for emphasis

(The above entry is proof of how bored I truly am.)

Sadly, while writing this entry I sat with my left foot crossed over my right, and when I was done writing I felt an excruciating pain in my hip. Mother beeeeeeeeeep. Moments like this make me insane. I’m way too young to have to give serious thought to how my feet are positioned when I’m sitting.

PS – Remember how my insurance said they only paid 2 grand for my surgery? False. Just got a notice yesterday that they paid 50 grand. That’s more like it.

I would like to speak to the maker of my hip, please

I am starting to think this thing they implanted in me is filled with catnip, because my cats are really drawn to my hip. It’s like my incision site is a target.

When you have 3 cats that weigh 10+ pounds, well …it feels like daggers are going into my leg.

De-lightful.