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.