Four Joints in Five Years

A light-hearted look at 2 knee and 2 hip replacements from 2017-2021

Image: everydayhealth.com

AAR and friend Cathy Hollingsworth wrote this for publication with the AARP magazine several months back. She sent it to me to read in advance and I just thought for a change-of-pace and as a public service announcement I should share it with my handful of avid readers. Not to mention, it’s too good not to share. Please enjoy!

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By Cathy Hollingsworth

The main title of this article might lead you to think that I am a very occasional user of marijuana, that I have been housed in 4 different prisons within 5 years, or that I have acquired 4 local beer establishments and am about to share my wisdom regarding commercial real estate. 

Not so. You will get it if you read the subtitle.

The truth is, during the first 60 years of my life, I have had zero challenging medical issues. Those medical issues are reserved for unhealthy folks who, in my arrogant estimation, cause their own conditions by indulging in way too many recreational drugs, abuse of alcohol, ingesting truckloads of Cheetos in a prone position while bingeing on Stranger Things. So, I am aghast when the first twinge of pain hits me in my left knee.  ME?????? 

I am walking across campus at the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville where I teach Public Speaking when I feel the pain. What could I have done?  This is MARCH for God’s sake. I teach until mid-May! Oh yeah. I’ll just go to my neighbor, the orthopedic surgeon and get a shot.  After an x-ray confirmed that someone stole my left knee cartilage, and the best fix was knee replacement, I decide to take matters into my own hands.

NO ONE will tell ME I need knee replacement until it is convenient for ME.

My neighbor/doctor agrees to give me a cortisone shot to reduce the inflammation (pain) so I can buy some time and decide what to do. He opens the exam room door, walks across the hall, and turns to face me.  Then he RUNS full steam ahead with the needle pointed at my knee and JAMs it into the most inflamed area. This is awful and not true, but it sure feels that way. Almost immediately, I am pain free. I actually skip through the parking lot to my car.  I just know I am one of those people who can exist on shots until it is convenient for me to have surgery.

The shot that is supposed to last at least 6 weeks wears off in 2 weeks.  I am not eligible for another shot any time soon. I am in pain and looking for alternatives.  That is, alternatives that do not include knee replacement anytime soon.  Neighbor/doctor to the rescue:  He explains to me that there is something else I could try. But of course, it is not covered by insurance because it is considered “experimental”. This new treatment is called hyaluronic acid injection or “Rooster Comb Injection”.  WHAT?  They grind up rooster combs and inject them?  The poor rooster. Thankfully, there is a synthetic version now. 4 injections and $1200 later, my knee still hurts.

What a bunch of cock a doodle doo!

Now it is late April and I am getting university rides to my classes from my office because I can’t walk very far. As I am nearing the decision to get a knee replacement, I learn of someone who works out at the same gym I do and swears by a surgeon in Chicago. I get this patient’s number, and after a 90-minute phone conversation I decide to call Chicago and see if I am eligible. Whaddya know?  They take my insurance and can get me on the calendar for May just after the semester ends.

This particular surgeon only works on hips and knees.  He promises a shorter recovery time than most because the surgery is non-invasive and out-patient.  WHAT?OUT-PATIENT? This isn’t wisdom teeth for God’s sake. Now I am a bit worried. What about vital signs in the middle of the night? What about delicious meals on a tray? What about sponge baths? Then I decide I am better off without ALL those things! Who needs ‘em? My husband, Beau and I make airplane reservations and he finds us a great accommodation to rent for the week. 

We are all set.

We fly to Chicago Sunday and find a lovely lunch spot near our hotel called “The Bongo Room”. Delicious food, but I am very disappointed that Matthew McConaughey isn’t entertaining us while we dine.  (If you don’t get that, just google Matthew McConaughey and bongos). 

We finally have time to look at the schedule for the week:

Monday:  Knee replacement class with other patients having surgery that same week. Discussion and  Q&A.  5 patients and their “significant caregiver others” are all learning together what we can expect. A  few minutes into the class,  I get a text from Beau, who is sitting right next to me.  It says “Archie Manning is sitting right across from you.”  I reply: “THE Archie Manning who played for the Saints and is father to Peyton and Eli?” I am thinking if this doctor is the one that the GREAT ARCHIE MANNING chose, then I am in good hands. We did get to visit with Archie and his wife Olivia through the week. They are lovely folks and about to go through the same surgery and recovery as we are. 

Then we find out that one of the other couples in the room is from Fayetteville, Arkansas. There must be a pneumatic tube from Northwest Arkansas that carries all these patients to Chicago. After the class I realize their son was one of my students in Public Speaking.  This is starting to be kind of fun.  Well, kinda. Next, we all get a brown paper lunch sack full of drugs to take during recovery.

This IS starting to be fun!

Tuesday: Blood work and physical

Wednesday: Surgery.  In order to avoid the unpleasant after-effects of general anesthesia, Propofol and an epidural are the haute cuisine for your time in the operating room. If you have ever delivered a baby and had an epidural you know how important it is to stay very still when the needle is going in.  When I had our first child, the staying still during the epidural needle insertion was made comfortable and not scary by the use of a very huggable nurse who stood in front of me while I sat on the edge of the bed.  She instructed me to bury my head in her chest and put my arms through her armpits and hang on to her shoulders as the needle went in.  It was perfect! So naturally, when my surgery team in Chicago tells me I am about to get an epidural, I ask, “Where is my huggable nurse?” They look at each other for a moment and they get it! One of them tells me, “She’s rolling down the hall right now!”

In rolls an apparatus with a Naugahyde “chest” with handles to hold on to that keep me very still while they deaden the lower part of my body with a needle in my spine. Not as comforting as a human huggable nurse, but gets the job done safely.  Waking up from surgery is a surprising event as almost right away the hospital PT tells me to walk around the nurse’s station and up some stairs. 

UP SOME STAIRS?!

This is as startling as the idea of out-patient joint replacement. My trusty physical therapist lassos me with some straps so she can “catch” me if I fall (IF?) and off we go. Around the nurse’s station twice and then a door opens revealing a stairwell.  Will this hurt? Will my legs even support me? It does not hurt and my legs do support me.

Yay.

Thursday:  Lots of drugs which include Oxycontin. No pain, but hallucinations which include furry animals in the corner of the room that disappear as soon as I look directly at the corner AND black birds flying out of the can lights in the ceiling. This is not scary, but hilarious. I remember hearing that my friend Karen back home actually hallucinated the Disney character RATATOUILLE sitting in the corner of her TV armoire while on similar drugs after ankle surgery.

Friday: Travel to the surgeon’s office for an incision check and then to the airport for a non-stop flight home.  As soon as we are seated, and before I pass out with the help of the grocery sack of drugs, I ask Beau where our connection is. He laughs and pats me on the head.

At home I am still on the Oxycontin for several more days to allow me to perform home-health PT with a minimum of pain. The hallucinations continue, but now there is a new twist: I make stuff up.  Beau and I religiously tune in to 60 Minutes on Sunday nights. It is as close as we get to having a date while I convalesce. As soon as the “ticking” stops, the reporters all introduce themselves.  When one of them says, “I’m Bill Whitaker”, I announce, “Beau, do you see that guy? He has THREE PhD’s!” and then immediately I realize this is probably not true and I just made it up.  At least I know I am doing it.

The rest of my recovery is not terrible and is filled with meals from friends and help from my best nurse Beau. I constantly try to get him to wear a sexy white nurse’s outfit with white fishnets, but he declines.  Getting my erotic white compression stockings on and off is quite enough, he says. I catch him washing them out in the sink just after filling my ice machine, dispensing my drugs, and reminding me how to get in and out of the bed safely. He has the calling of “after joint replacement partner caretaker” and has no idea that he will do this 3 more times until we are through. As a side note, I am happy to report that we are still married, and I was able to start paying him back as he had two back surgeries last summer.

The one thing no one tells me is how my sleep is going to be interrupted by not being able to get in a comfortable position at night. Oh there are all sorts of suggestions: Sleep with a pillow between your knees!

Have a shot of Benadryl before bed!

Sleep in a recliner!

Meditate!

What actually happens is this: I get into bed with the thought that “tonight, I am going to be comfortable and sleep well.”  Turns out I am making stuff up again. I find a position and say “AHHHHHHH” In 30 seconds, or so, I say “NOPE”. This goes on all night until my exhaustion overrides my pain and I fall asleep for 30 minutes and then the whole exercise starts again. This lasts about 2 months.

As soon as my knee is healed and I am back on my bicycle on the beautiful bike trails of Northwest Arkansas, I start noticing that my right hip hurts. Have I screwed up by the way I have been walking to protect that knee, and done damage to my opposite hip? Yes. Dear God. This happens with my left hip right after my right hip heals, and then (dump dum dum…suspenseful music), my right knee goes. Back and back and back to Chicago I go until I am an alum. I should have a punch card for replace one get one free, but there is no such animal. And now I am finished. I am bionic. My students will not know what it is like to have an instructor without a limp or a walk like Marty Feldman in Young Frankenstein. I no longer hallucinate funny things, but I still make things up (for fun). 

As overwhelming as it is to think that I have had 4 joint replacements in 5 years, I am trying to focus on moving forward (literally and figuratively).  I am no longer arrogant about my health, and I have the MOST empathy and sympathy for those who go through these surgeries. The truth is, too many recreational drugs, abuse of alcohol, ingesting truckloads of Cheetos in a prone position while binging on the Netflix series, Stranger Things, probably doesn’t cause the need for joint replacement. It can happen to anybody.

If it happens to you, dear reader, at least you get to hallucinate!

AAR Kathe Taylor sent me this witty and cute video about punctuation—and how important it is to your message. I suspect she was trying to tell me something.

Also, here’s three hours of calm, relaxing Christmas music. Happy Holidays!