The Accidental Patient

At first glance, it would seem that all patients are accidental patients. No one chooses to get sick or chooses to undergo unnecessary procedures. But that is not always the case.

We have all known individuals who have had elective or cosmetic surgery to correct a perceived flaw, to enhance one’s body image, or to improve one’s self-esteem. Whatever.

In just over 48 hours, I will be a patient, but it is not by choice. For the second time in five years, I am having a hip replaced. While some would argue that this surgery is elective in nature, I would argue the opposite.

When virtually every aspect of your life is affected by a physical ailment, when your sleep is disrupted nightly, and when your natural joy is diminished (and you all know how joyous I am!), it is time to take action. In the case of my hips, I know it is time for surgery when I start fantasizing in the middle of the night about going to the kitchen and performing the surgery myself. A surgeon I am not. A surgeon I need.

It is impossible to face this kind of joint replacement surgery without some degree of trepidation. My bone is going to be sawed. My sweet, loving husband suggested we offer the orthopedist use of our electric knife that we use at Thanksgiving to carve the turkey. The hospital has assured me that they have their own tools.

In 2017, when my left hip was replaced, I spent one night in the hospital and then had six uncomfortable weeks at home. I did not bounce back the way I had hoped as quickly as I expected. But my recovery since then has been remarkable, and my left hip is beautiful. My right hip is a piece of work.

But four years and COVID-19 changes everything. My weight is lower, my body is stronger (thanks to a dedicated physical fitness routine), and a hospital stay is not on the program, if all goes well. My appointment time at the hospital is 5:30 a.m. and I hope to leave by 5:30 p.m. Overnight stays are avoided at all costs due to COVID.

At-home physical therapy is no longer prescribed, and I don’t know why. My guess is that insurance will no longer cover the cost. But in a few weeks, I will turn once again to my personal trainer who will provide my physical therapy. He is ready and eager to get me back into shape, albeit slowly.

Perhaps my greatest area of consternation is how did this happen? I have been healthy my entire life. In fact, I have never broken a bone. My only surgeries have all been related to childbirth, and I still love the kids, despite what they put me through! There really is no family history of osteoarthritis requiring joint replacement, with the exception of one first cousin who has suffered far worse than I.

So here’s my explanation: For 20 years now, since 2001 when I failed my first bone density test, I have led an active lifestyle. That lifestyle has included hundreds of miles of walks with my best friend in Connecticut, constant gym membership, numerous classes, investments in equipment, and 15 years of workouts with personal trainers.

My theory is that I simply wore out my hips. Think about the brakes of your car. After an x-number of years, they wear down and need to be replaced. I would like to think that my years of exercise, as well as years of crossing my legs on a long train commute, simply wore out my hips. They are mechanical joints that need to be replaced.

I am not sick. I am not old (maybe a late middle-ager!). But I need a few replacement parts; it can happen to the best of us. Soon I will be bionic. Watch out!