Blood and gore and drugs... (AKA part one of my hip replacement) *warning: some images not suitable for squeamish people...but they're in the second half

I'm now one full week post-op.

It hasn't been all roses and sunshine, but I'm very glad I had it done.

I checked into the hospital on Tuesday, April 1st at a little after 2 pm for an OR time of 5 pm.

Yay for clear labeling!

I had nothing to eat or drink starting at midnight the night before so I was hungry and dehydrated, which is always a winning combination. I was stoked on adrenaline, though, and it carried me through...for a while.

I used the bathroom...sadly, I only peed. Nervousness has a way of constipating me and so Saturday was the last time I had relieved my bowels. I followed this post and its comments and its follow-up fervently hoping for an answer to my problem, but to no avail :( Project ShitStorm was a covert op and I clearly did not know the password or have clearance.

I put on the gown and the pretty hairnet. They took my vitals and wrote on my hip to make sure they did the correct one. They asked me how I was doing. I told them I was kind of scared. I was actually covering. I was scared shitless (not literally...unfortunately). They smiled and said I was in the BEST hands and that it was going to be a really good thing and not to worry. I ignored that part of me that remembered that they're paid to say that.

R – right hip
THA – total hip anterior
RK – surgeon's initials

They started up an IV and hooked up a spinal block...no general anesthesia for this procedure. They got me high and asked me how I was doing. I laughed and said, "Great!" And then they wheeled me into the OR. The jovial atmosphere felt almost like a party. It all seemed to happen so fast. Drugs have a way of altering perspective and the passage of time.

I remember being in the OR and hearing soft music...Reggae. Among other things, I mentioned that I liked Reggae music. One person remarked, "You talk too much!" Yes, I was overly chatty...drugs and nervousness, but they then cranked the music and I was out.

I woke up and looked at the clock. It was 6:13. I was in recovery. I was hungry and thirsty and COLD. My teeth were chattering uncontrollably. My lower body was totally numb. I kept looking at my feet and laughing because in my mind I was making my toes move, but in reality they were going nowhere. I amused myself with this game for a bit.

The nurses were really nice and laughed at all my drug-induced musings. They packed my wounded leg in ice. I looked down at the surgical site.

All clean and pretty. And covered up.

Then my husband showed up to say "hi" before heading home to the kids who were with my mom. He showed me the photos of my femoral head.

This is the sawed-off end.
Note: big, juicy bone spur.

This is the eroded, contact end.
Note: complete absence of cartilage on the articular surface.
Note also: scraggly bone spur.

The articular surface was also flattened and just yucky. They said the joint was beyond done. How did I run 2 half-marathons and 2 distance relays with this? It's kind of blowing my mind.

I stabilized quickly and they took me to my private room, where they gave me some strawberries. And I just waited. Waited for the spinal block to wear off. Waited for the next phase.

Waited for Pain.

I contemplated writing the whole experience in one shot, but I'm really tired and physically uncomfortable so I have to check out now. If you want to know more before my next installment, consider following me on Instagram. My drug-addled, pain-exhausted body can handle posting little one-shot wonders there with regularity.

If you want to see what they did to me, here's a well-edited clip with excellent narration of someone performing a total hip replacement anterior approach. It's graphic and not for the squeamish. I found it fascinating and enlightening. It really put things in perspective for me.