I never thought I’d look forward to being cut asunder, my joints separated, and my bones chiseled and hammered.
Guess I just didn’t know what I was missing.
By the time you read this, I’ll be recovering from hip resurfacing surgery. It was scheduled for Tuesday at Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Center.
Seems the cartilage in my right hip had deteriorated to the point that it was bone against bone. In medical terms, the femoral head (ball) and the acetabulum (socket) were rubbing together with enough friction to start a fire.
At least that’s how it’s been feeling. That’s why I’ve been eagerly anticipating the surgery.
I learned about resurfacing after being told that I was going to need hip replacement. Hip resurfacing is an alternative to total hip replacement and allows the patient to continue being active after complete recovery.
In the procedure, the surgeon covers the femur head and acetabulum with highly-polished titanium. So, instead of bone against bone, you have metal against metal.
My sawbones, er, surgeon is Dr. Riyaz Jinnah. He described himself to me as an African-born Pakistani educated in England (Cambridge) and now working in North Carolina. He said he feels like a nomad, but without the tent.
Dr. Riyaz is a veteran at hip resurfacing, having done hundreds of the operations. The procedure has a success rate in the high 90s, so I feel confident as I anticipate my surgery.
I should be in the hospital for three for four days before returning home to recover. They say they’ll let me out when I’ve shown I can do such mundane tasks as dressing myself, using a walker or crutches, taking care of my hygienic needs and using a contraption that helps me put on my socks.
Ah, I could have used that sock aid months, nay years, ago. For the past year, putting on my right sock has been an exercise in agony. I’ve tried all kinds of contortions to get sock on foot, but all of them required bending the body from the hip. I even considered painting my lower leg to make it appear besocked.
My recovery at home should take at least two weeks, at which time I go back to the doctor to have my staples removed and the wound evaluated. That’s when they say I can bathe again – phew!
While recuperating, my cousin, Tom Allen, will be my nursemaid. A victim of the recession and having to retire early, he’s graciously agreed to look after me while my wife Ginny is working.
Tom is no stranger to joint surgery. He’s had both knees replaced and understands what we orthopedically-challenged have to put up with.
Next time you see me, I may be using crutches or a walker. I intend to be back at work as soon as possible and I’ve been promised a chauffeur to tool me around town (I’m not supposed to drive for six weeks).
In the meantime, The Randolph Guide will set up a blog on our Web site so I can wax eloquently on my experience. Just go to www.randolphguide.com for updates.
Larry Penkava, who has written Now and Then since 1994, can now say he’s “hip.”
