I am still here - just a bit broken...

And I needed some new parts. 

I swear to god, I sound like an old Ford Model-T or something almost as vintage. (I am saying vintage these days because It sounds way more bougie and fun than old.)

Last November I had my first knee replacement. It went well, and I got a gold star from my surgeon for my recovery and rehab. We decided then to go ahead with the other knee six months later. In June.  

Hey - lookie here. It's June. And apparently my body had other ideas. 

On May 20th, while en route to my niece's graduation ceremony, I bent over to do up a buckle on my shoe and in the process, twisted a bit too much and dislocated my right hip. AGAIN!

FUCK!!

We turned the car around and headed to the ER. All the while with the kids in the back seat, experiencing what I imagine is all kinds of PTSD triggers brought on by trips to the emergency room. It was a stellar day people. 

Since this was my third trip to the hospital for this very problem, I figured it was going to be the same as before. Easy Peasey, give me the knock-out drugs, reef on my leg, pop the hip joint back into place, off I go - Lemon Squeezy.

I was wrong.

Three tries later and way more propofol than one should probably have in one day (sorry MJ), and the very nice and super cute orthopedic surgeon told me the bad news. They couldn't get my hip back in place and I would have to be transferred to another hospital to have a surgical revision done.

This was Saturday. 

Sunday morning I was transferred. And Tuesday morning I had surgery. YES. You counted correctly. I laid in a hospital bed for three days with a dislocated hip joint. Something I do NOT recommend. And people - bed sores are serious business! One more day and skin would have broken and it would have been BAD. 

The gist of things was that the lining of my acetabulum (the socket part of the joint) had worn out, and along with the head of the femur (the ball of the joint), had to be replaced. So, new parts for me and another six weeks of post-op recovery. 

Emergency surgery means you get to keep your nail polish on!

Emergency surgery means you get to keep your nail polish on!

And no driving. Sigh.

I am sitting here at week five and everything is healing up very nicely. I am technically supposed to still be using my crutches until next week, but my goodness are they ever a PITA! I can move around easily now at home and am starting to get stronger when I am out and about too. (And I may have gone for a short drive to pick up milk yesterday!)

Needless to say, that right knee replacement that was actually scheduled for THIS Thursday is not happening. I managed to negotiate with my surgeon for a date in September instead. This is what you get to do when you are a gold star patient like me. (Or at least that is what I am telling myself). 

So I get the summer with the kids, we can focus on finishing up everything around the #sleeperhouse (including landscaping), and I get to put in some time at work leading up to the Fall Fashion season. 

And I am writing again. So, this forced confinement and convalescence hasn't been for naught. Perhaps it is what my mind needed. A chance to be still within myself and find that place where the words and my thoughts meet and then pour forth through my fingers. I'll post a few links to what I have been doing and where, as most of the recent writing has been for other publications. 

You know how the saying goes... everything happens for a reason, blah, blah, blah..... Well, maybe that is true. Or maybe I just need to stop reaching for shit in my car and twisting my body into positions it clearly is not meant to do anymore!

Bus ride for persons with reduced mobility!

Bus ride for persons with reduced mobility!

Did you miss me?

XO,

N~