“Half way home; we’ll be there by morning….” Steve Goodman
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“Half way home; we’ll be there by morning….” Steve Goodman
Greetings from the road to hell. First, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all of the prayers, kind wishes, encouraging words and expressions of all that’s right with this country that you all represent and so willingly share. I’m a better person for knowing all of you. Now, referring to my opening greeting, a word to the wise. As we all age, and while some of us who are aging (myself included) do unwise things like not being 100% vigilant about where we put our feet, and consequently fall and screw up one of our hips, take some advice from someone no longer a novice. When you are approaching hip replacement surgery, and someone tells you not to worry, it’s a piece of cake, “You’ll be back on the golf course in two weeks max….” find a sturdy stick, or, use the cane which is propping you up, and knock the everliving daylights out of them. Aim for the hip, and swing like it’s a piñata full of gold. Now, my surgery was thankfully successful, and my pre-op and most of the post-op care was great. They gave me an epidural and propofol to knock me out, and the cocktail worked perfectly. When I awoke, my (new) left hip and the old rest of my leg were completely numb. You could have stabbed me in the leg with an ice pick, and I would have felt nothing. Feeling gradually returns from the bottom up. When I could feel my toes and wiggle them a bit, they gave me two Oxycodone tablets and sent in the Occupational Therapist, a great guy who helped me begin to find my “land legs” again. When I had graduated OT, then I went to Physical Therapy. That was a more rigorous course, which included stairs with and without railings, a car to get in and out of, and other specific exercise devices. Not bragging, but this old boy’s performance could have made the USA geriatric, just had their hip replaced Olympic Team. If they had let me have my tool belt, I could have been Batman…albeit that said with a leg dead numb from the knee to the hip, and two Oxycodones in my bloodstream. So they discharged Batman and wished me well in my crime fighting endeavors. Four hours later the remainder of the numbing wore off. Should I have encountered a 1st grader stealing a Snickers Bar at the 7-11, they could have beaten old Batman to death with said Snickers Bar, and without so much as breaking sweat. They sent me home with a prescription for two Oxycodone tablets every four hours, which did as much to alleviate my pain as that Snickers Bar. “…back on the golf course in two weeks max.” The pain was so intense, if I could have gotten my hands around that person’s throat who said that, I’d have ripped their head off with my dying breath. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain, but this was unimaginable. I’d describe it as somewhere between getting run over by a farm combine and the 7th level of hell. So I called the Doctor who reminded me that he had sawed off the top of my femur and hip joint, ground out the socket, and hammered what essentially is a titanium railroad spike with a hip joint on top down into my femur, but after said lecture, he sent me a prescription for Dilaudid. In 20 minutes after taking the Dilaudid, the pain was gone, and in 30 minutes so was I. Now I might be a light weight, but I think the track record of my life might argue otherwise, but that Dilaudid just about put me down. I lost two days; no recollection whatsoever. I had to have a sitter to keep me from wandering off and falling down, or taking a nap on railroad tracks. Later I found out that Dilaudid is 9 times more powerful than Morphine. Now I’m making no comparison whatsoever between my post-op pain and that suffered by our military personnel injured in combat, because there is no comparison. But if the pain I experienced was just 0.010% of what our wounded warriors suffered, I will forever look at them differently, and with a whole lot more admiration and respect, and I’ll never bitch and moan again about my pain. And, to my brother Wayward Son, who several months ago had a knee replaced, my hat’s off to you. I’ve been told by many that having a knee replaced is 10 times worse than having a hip replaced. If that’s true or even if it’s only half true, again, hat’s off brother. Mea culpa for my whining. For the record, I’m blessed to be recovering. Yesterday was the first day I ditched my walker and walked with only a cane. My daughter and family have taken care of me more than I ever deserved. My pain is manageable, and when it hurts, I try to think of others who have had, and are having it rougher than me. Thank you again for all your concern and support. I appreciate it more than I deserve it. All the “get well quickly’s,” and 🙏🙏🙏‘s, in all actuality should be “Why don’t you look where you’re stepping, ‘Gramps.’” 😉 Love y’all!
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