I had hip surgery just over two weeks ago, and thanks to modern medicine I am already walking around with just one crutch! I still feel varying amounts of pain and numbness: when I sit too long, when I lie on my back, when I reach for my foot, who knows?! It’s still hard to tell what will cause me pain, which in and of itself causes me fear, a vicious cycle. And my “good” hip? It’s angry at me for bearing an additional burden and so it is also painful, an anxiety-inducing reminder that I’ll probably have to go through this again at some future date.

I trusted my doctor’s diagnosis and my decision to have the surgery, so I opted out of going down a potentially scary rabbit hole on hip labral repair (I also had my femur reshaped to correct impingement) prior to my surgery. But with that said, I really appreciated this post by The Fit Cookie for her patient perspective on her injury and recovery, which I read afterward. I thought I’d add my experience to anyone out there also searching for other patient perspectives.

The Injury

My hips have cracked for as long as I remember. When I’d sit butterfly-style on the ground, I’d often lean back and then forward to initiate what felt like a “corrective” crack so that I could move around more easily. It turns out that was probably hip impingement, which I still have in my right hip and what probably caused the tear in my labrum while indoor cycling. There was no single moment when I knew I hurt myself. I did a hard ride on a Sunday in February, and I absolutely crushed it. For any Zwifters out there, it was the infamous Alpe du Zwift, and I beat my first attempt of the virtual mountain by over 20 minutes.

A screenshot from my ride on February 21, 2021

The next day I had trouble lifting my left leg and walking up stairs, but I figured I was just sore from a tough workout. I took it easy for a few weeks until my hip felt better, and once it did I even felt well enough to start a new training program. A month in and after another harder ride, the injury flared up again and a few weeks of rest didn’t seem to help.

The (First) Diagnosis

I went to a sports med doctor who diagnosed a strained hip flexor, which I probably had on top of the torn labrum. The problem is that we treated it for too long (2.5 months) and once I tried increasing my physical activity, I slid back to where I started, and with more pain. I wanted to dig my fingers into the spot where my leg meets my hip, but I could never reach it. I’d furiously massage my quad where the pain ran down toward my knee. I popped ibuprofen like candy to get through a day of working from my chair, and I hit my breaking point when I stopped being able to walk the dogs around the block.

The (Second) Diagnosis

If I could do it all over again, I would’ve gotten an arthrogram (MRI with dye) much sooner. They numbed my leg, did a “live x-ray”-type thing, and injected some fluid into my joint. Then they sent me to the machine where I had the luxury of listening to the Rilo Kiley Pandora channel. I cried in that noisy tube as I contemplated my life, because they told me I might have something more serious. In my opinion, the better option sucked too, but a week or so later I was relieved to have just a torn labrum and NOT a dying femur. I booked my surgery with them that same day, as casually as if I were pre-ordering a Peloton.

The Procedure

As a surgery newbie, I was a little jolted by how mundane this event seemed to them since it was certainly a big deal to me. I slept well the night before my appointment, but once I got to the surgery center, 1.5 sober hours of pre-op proved emotional. I cried while changing into my gown and watched my tears hit the tile floor. I suppose I was moving slowly, because the nurse barged in and seemed surprised. Maybe no one cries before surgery? She gave me a hug and told me I’d be fine. I cried more.

I cried just about every time someone came up to me to verify that, yes, it was my left hip we were here to fix. When the time came, they wheeled me into the room and spoiler: I cried again! A very nice nurse grabbed my hand, which I held limply — I think a habit of mine to not make straight women uncomfortable. She told me it was ok If I wanted to squeeze back (reader, I was moved and cried more). Whether due to pity or normal procedure, the nurse anesthesiologist gave me nitrous oxide via mask, which worked quickly. I was so instantaneously high that I tried pulling the mask off when I’d had enough. And then before I knew it, I was awake in post-op and a nurse was helping me put on my underwear. I wasn’t crying!

More on post-surgery recovery soon in another post.

Dr. Chris Scudder of Lap of Love was kind enough to read this remembrance during our home euthanasia earlier today. I can’t say enough good things about Dr. Sherman at VSS and Lap of Love as we navigated tough decisions in the short three-week window from diagnosis to death. While the process was incredibly difficult, it was made much easier through the kindness of their care.

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Edgar was a unique and quirky dog. He loved food, from raw broccoli to salmon skin. He’d try anything once, and always with great urgency and enthusiasm.

His adoption story isn’t the stuff of storybooks. He wasn’t Stephanie’s first choice dog, but after being rejected on numerous applications for others, she agreed to take him home. From there, they became best friends. He was her running partner, her snuggler, and a source of great pride. Everyone — including strangers and especially Stephanie — loved his beard, which grew longer and grayer over the years. We wish we could have seen how that beard would look if this illness hadn’t cut his time short.

Edgar had a voice, and he used it often. He had an impressively deep bark, which he made whenever he heard outside sounds. He growled at the most mundane threats, including his moms. He was a grumpy boy, but it was all an act. He loved to cuddle under blankets and swim among the pillows.

Edgar was also the reluctant but loving brother to Spencer, who we hope he’ll join in doggie heaven. He seemed to forgive (but maybe not forget) the numerous transgressions Spencer made against him. He became the proud Alpha of our pack after Spencer left us and was a great role model to Nelson and Minnie.

Stephanie was Edgar’s person until then end, and she remained his number one even when he got a second mom seven years ago. His love had no judgment, and he waited for her return whenever she left. Now he leaves us, and we are so sad. We feel so lucky to have had this special boy in our lives. We love you, Edgar.

I Had Hip Surgery!

Remembering Edgar