Time for A Redux and A Change!

My year so far…

I can't quite figure out what the universe is trying to tell me. But it’s clear that something needs to change. 

It was while lying in the MRI with oldies music masking the whirring sounds of the machine that I realized this whole year has been punctuated by a series of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things. 

In what I've thought of as my normal approach to life, I began 2023 with a plan. We were organizing for the delayed trip to Jacques’ hometown of Tangier with the family, and I was going to regain the full flexibility of my inhibited hip. Convinced it was a hip flexor issue, I signed up to see the physical therapist and the chiropractor and got to work. 

As I told you at the end of 2023, it didn’t work. Every visit to the club left me in a heap of hurt that knocked me over. And I did it for months believing next time would be better. We took the trip, and I hobbled along gamely. Finally, in the fall, a visiting friend saw me stand up and said, “My 97 year old mother can stand up better than you!” 

That was sobering. So I went to see his mother’s hip specialist who, one simple x-ray later, informed me that she was surprised I was still walking based on the level of arthritic decay evident. 

Well, that too was sobering. She gave me the name of The Hip Replacement surgeon - they do specialize, these orthopedists. And by then, we were into the “I’ve used up my deductible” surgery rush time of year. I got in to see him last October, and the first appointment available was in January of this year.

That was the winter of my discontent. Pain and opioids. I recognize that opioids have been seriously over prescribed in this country, but they saved me through the surgery. 

My poor family. I ended up sleeping in a zero gravity chair for four months, as that was the only way to get more than an hour of sleep at a time before pain bolted me awake from the bed. (If you’ve never seen a zero gravity chair, they’re truly remarkable, but not a great place to sleep for months at a time…no rolling over.)

Then in December, just for fun, my body decided it was time for shingles to emerge. I meant to get the shots. They were scheduled in 2020 and we all know what happened that year. So I put it off, and the virus emerged. Fortunately, I was on a zoom call with a University colleague, and mentioned that the skin over my eyebrow felt strangely painful. He asked me to show him, so I said it was from the middle of my forehead over to the right side of my face, and…he interrupted. “You’ve got shingles and go to the ER to make sure it’s not in your eye.”

I never knew shingles could be on your face. Thought it was all torso pain. Nope. Six hours later, I learned that yes, I had shingles. Yes I had a powerful antiviral to add to my opioids, and that so far, there were no dendrites apparent in my eye. But I’d need to go see the ophthalmologist regularly to monitor. 

So - to tally - excruciating hip pain moderated by codeine, face pain with blurry eyes thanks to shingles related antiviral eye drops mixed with powerful antiviral pills. The pile of books I’d planned to roll through as I waited for surgery were now merely a blurry impossibility. The last few weeks of 2023 into the first month of 2024 were a bummer. Those who have accused me of being too positive in my approach to life wouldn’t have recognized that version of me. 

Finally - the surgery took place, and I began the work to regain mobility. The first couple of weeks were tough.  But again - the oxycontin and my supportive spouse got me through. Then right into physical therapy and the pain was gone as were the opioids, and all was moving in the right direction! Autonomy and mobility once again.

Even the shingles in the eye - oh yes, that happened - were resolving. 

Until last week. 

It’s not like I was running for a touchdown pass when my Achilles tendon snapped. I was merely walking into the house after a glorious solo trip of errands when I heard and felt the snap. An inconclusive x-ray led to the highly conclusive MRI that suggests another surgery on my new hip leg is in the near future.

So here I sit, pondering the message that the experience of this past year is sending. What am I not doing that I should be to break this string of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad luck?  

On the other hand - and this is where my positivity kicks back in (sorry, KK) - I know how very lucky I am to live in a supportive community of family and friends who are here when I need them with quarts of soup, happy hour and tea party gatherings, and boxes of treats and books to distract and entertain me over the last several months. 

And that’s the one clear lesson I take away from this past year - I have so much to be grateful for - even in my newly re-hobbled condition.