What Happened…Hip Replacement Update

I slept pretty well last night in my beautiful B&B four poster bed.


Got up, dressed kind of and went out for a delicious breakfast and good coffee. The hour neared — it was a 30 minute drive to the doc in a part of town that — when I lived here — were inscrutable boondocks where you went four wheeling but times change.

They called me right away, took X-rays, put me in the doc’s room, doc came in, said “It’s beautiful. You’re free to bend 110 degrees, pretty much everything. Do you have any question?”

I didn’t. I should but I don’t. I showed him that I can walk pretty well without my cane. He smiled a huge smile and put his arms out for a hug. I said, “Thanks for everything. Thanks for everything. Thanks for listening to me. Thanks for saying fuck. Thanks for explaining, And thanks for this.”

I sat down and I told him something that I completely surprised me. I explained that while I don’t know about other people, but that for me without the ability to move freely in nature I really didn’t know what my life would be. I told him about my dad having had MS and dying young. He said, “So you know exactly what it means to lose the ability.”


In the room — unsaid — was, “So that’s why you’ve been so frightened, so emotional and so desperate.” I hadn’t realized it before. I told him about taking my dad out to see Pikes Peak with a storm coming over it just a few months before he died and how soon after, my dad go pneumonia. I said, “I think it was the kindest act of my life.” The doc nodded. “It was,” he said.

So that moment passed and he told me I am able to to anything I want that’s low impact for the next three months. I can hike anywhere, anything, ride a real bike, whatever I’m fit and ready for. I go back on September 20 — that’s the fourth anniversary of my return to Colorado. And if all is well at that point he said I can run and I can ski (X-country).

I am not sure anyone else can know completely what this has meant to me — maybe. But today I got my life back. I have a lot of work to do and I’m not young any more but I won’t get any younger and I have nothing I’d really rather do motr than the work. I have a good team of allies and my dogs will be home tomorrow.

Thank you everyone for all the encouragement and moral support. I know I’ve been a cry baby sometimes and pretty self-indulgent other times. Forgive me for that. I’m just a little lady after all.

Tomorrow Lois will join me for breakfast, then I’ll leave this place which has been a little haven and a little dream come true and return to Heaven where I will work toward a more active life with my two best buds.


22 thoughts on “What Happened…Hip Replacement Update

  1. I think it’s congratulations! You did it — you healed on schedule, and will continue to do so — you’ll have the dogs to help you, and it’s summer, so you can be outdoors. The worst is over, and you sound determined to keep up the good work! Go, you!

  2. Congratulations, Martha! I had a major knee surgery that ended my soccer career when I was 20, and it completely changed my life, so I know that feeling when you get that go-ahead to “play” again. Enjoy your pups, and your freedom. πŸ™‚

    • Thank you!!!! I’m sorry you know. 😦 It’s an awful feeling when you’re heart and identity are in the ‘game’ but you cannot argue with your body (to which, in a way, you owe everything). ❀

  3. I would also sleep,well in that room. So glad everything is now good with you and yes, I realise that the freedom to go places and seething is most important. On a different scale, that is hat my wheelchair means to me. And now let’s get the dogs back

  4. Martha–this warmed my heart. You and Lois make room for this Lois at breakfast because I will be there in spirit, smiling at the joy of this post. Have a safe trip.

  5. I doubt I can express in words how thrilled, delighted, excited and happy I am to hear your good news. I’m personally touched that you were able to share the entire experience, the good, the bad along the way. I don’t think you’ve been a cry baby at all. Expressing concerns, fears, worries and momentary down time takes guts, real guts and few can do it. I’d say that is monumental growth on your part. I’m proud to have witnessed a change, the ability to ask and accept help from another. I’m not good at that either. I’ve always had difficulty knowing learning and accepting limitations. I’ve always pushed passed them, and sometimes regretted it. If I hadn’t though, I wouldn’t be walking today. I’d have spent the last 30 years in a wheelchair, so yeah, being stubborn, determined (whatever the impetus was or is) serves a damn good purpose if you ask me. Again, thank you for sharing your soul, who you are with all of us. Gutsy lady! πŸ™‚

Comments are closed.