Process Note About Cyd's Hip Replacement Surgery

On November 5th, 2018, a surgeon sawed off the head of Cyd's right femur and hammered a titanium spike down into the bone marrow. He also carved out the top portion of the femoral rim and lined the socket with a titanium sleeve. The top socket and the new femoral head structure are linked by a titanium strut a couple of inches long.

The right hip looked like the one above prior to surgery. Many falls over the years had damaged it. The new titanium implant looks like this.

The surgery was conducted with a spinal block and "twilight sleep" induced by propofol; no general anesthesia. Yes, I could hear the electric saw cutting my leg in two, but didn't care. 

"Propofol? Isn't that the drug that killed Michael Jackson?" I asked the anesthesiologist. His eye rolling gave away the fact that he's heard this one before and is tired of it.  

"A lot of things killed Michael Jackson," he said. "Propofol is a wonderful drug and we're very glad to have it."

During the two nights I spent in the hospital, I took the drugs they offered. But by day two I could feel the "cascade effect" setting in. "Cascade effect" is when a medical procedure or remedy causes other symptoms which are then controlled by further medical procedures and remedies--usually drugs. Many, if not most, patients experience this cascade effect in the form of more and more medications trying to correct more and more symptoms, all caused by the "cure." In my case, the opioids caused nausea (take an anti-nausea drug) and constipation (take a laxative). 

I said, "No, thanks. I'll be just fine as soon as I get home. Besides, I don't want to get addicted to opioids."

"Don't worry about getting addicted," the nurses said. "If you take the oxy for pain only and stop as you feel better, a few weeks won't do you any harm."  Yeah. Right. That's how it always starts.

Before the surgery, I was told that I would be up and walking within a couple of hours. I was told I would be walked often in the hospital to aid in recovery. Unfortunately, mine was the last surgery of the day, so physical therapy wasn't available until the next day, around 10 AM. Despite my asking repeatedly to be let out of bed so I could walk off the pain, there just wasn't enough nursing staff to accommodate my needs. They only had time to offer me drugs and to take me from bed to potty when I insisted.

As soon as I got home, I stopped taking any drugs other than Tylenol and aspirin (prescribed to prevent clotting). I wasn't able to eat for a full day as the oxy moved its way out of my body, with no help from anti-nausea drugs or laxatives. By the next day at home, all was well again. Oh wait. I actually did take another drug. I smoked CBD buds whenever I felt pukey or super bothered by pain. Almost left that part out. I keep forgetting it's legal now and I have a prescription. My only prescription. 

These are the homeopathics I took to recover. I am using 4 of each, several times a day. They work just fine for me.

I also regularly use CALM magnesium supplement. CALM helps with overall muscle relaxation and stress reduction, as well as having a mild laxative effect.

I am extremely fortunate to have a wonderful support network here in my little village of Jacksonville. Living alone as I do now, my next-door neighbors have kept a close eye on me. They also are taking Gaucho-dog for his daily walks. 

Cyd's wonderful neighbors

My physical therapist, Jason Strock, is both highly intuitive and trained in Holland in osteopathic manipulations, so in addition to showing me exercises to correct imbalances, he also performs the most subtle of osteo manipulations to my hips and pelvis. I have to give him credit for his part in this. I'd originally signed up another, larger, physical therapy center, but it only took one visit, two days out of the hospital, to see that we were not a good fit.

I'm being driven to physical therapy by a number of folks I barely knew before this crisis, and they are also doing all of my grocery shopping for me. (can't drive for about 6 weeks after hip replacement surgery while everything knits into place.)  When Gary and I moved to Jacksonville, we joined an organization called the Boosters, a "do-gooder" group which engages in community service. It is the folks from the Booster's "Sunshine Committee" that are taking care of me. One lucky lady even volunteered to peel the support hose off my legs every couple of days, washing them and my feet, and then replacing the clean support hose on my legs--not an easy thing to do! 

I am keenly aware of my eccentric nature and I have tried not to overwhelm my new friends with too much philosophy or personality. It's a fine line.

The church choir at the local Presbyterian church has been praying for my recovery, so the supernatural as well as human conduit is open. They want me to get better in time to join the choir for the Christmas pageant. I sang with them for a time last year, but then I grew impatient with the preacher's weak sermons and dropped out. There's a new minister now, so I'm willing to see if I feel more comfortable in that church now.

My brother, Bill, has also helped me during this time with several long-distance hypnosis sessions. We have had some good emotional breakthroughs and highly effective post-hypnotic suggestions. I wondered, for example, if my late dog's hip tumor was emotionally lodged in my hip because I was so broken by her death. Bill helped Franny and me connect and then let go in the "healing pool," which made Franny and I both feel better. Gaucho noticed and in real-life he came over and licked the tears from my face while I was in the pool with Franny.
 

Cyd and Franny

I didn't let any theater folk know of the surgery because I didn't want it to affect next year's casting decisions, which are all taking place now. They knew Miss Mona had a medical crisis the final week of "Best Little Whorehouse in Texas," when I showed up on a cane for the last two performances with bone-on-bone pain. I felt it made my tragic character ever so much more tragic--singing my last sad song while leaning on a cane. I have a casting callback on December 1 at which time everyone will see I'm up to snuff and ready to roll.

"Miss Mona" on her cane, "Best Little Whorehouse in Texas" dressing room

That's the news about hip surgery. My friends, old and new, theists and atheists, conservatives and liberals, are all enacting the Simple "Golden Rule" by reaching out with information, assistance, and love. I am thankful to feel such love.

Meanwhile, I'm firing on all cylinders. Feeling creative and productive. Looking forward to embarking on the next chapter of this life.

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p.s. although I auditioned for several companies and plays after the surgery, not one cast me. I am taking this opportunity to work on my next book: The Gnostic Gospel Illuminated. See you there.