5 Weeks Post-op

Last post I told a little fib, or rather that I intentionally left a couple of details out… Guess who has had their check-up and flown home to Abu Dhabi already…?

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

That’s right! My check-up was brought forward a week and I hopped on the next available flight after getting the green light. I planned to surprise a few friends in Abu Dhabi, hence the big secret, and I love it when a plan comes together…

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While I was staying in Reading I received my appointment letter and I literally squealed when I realised it was Friday 17th April and not the 24th. I was Skyping Andrew at the time and we both screamed with excitement at the thought of seeing each other a week earlier than anticipated. It was immediately after this that we sneakily hatched our plan, and my focus shifted from keeping busy, to preparing to go home. I now had only eleven days so arrangements that I had made for what I thought was going to be my last week in the UK had to be brought forward where possible, and I was trying to squeeze in seeing as many family and friends one last time.

It may sound rather rushed, but obviously my main reason for coming home was to see Andrew, and secondly, I knew I could continue my hydrotherapy in our pool daily and therefore, (hopefully) I’d progress quicker. With my check-up now at five-and-a-half weeks post-op, I knew there was still a chance that it was too early to fly and so I made sure everything was in place, should I receive good news. According to Google, blood thinners and a flight upgrade decrease the risk of deep vein thrombosis (DVT) in post-op hip patients. Therefore, I logically saved a few of my heparin-filled needles and my British Airways Cabin Manager mother-in-law looked into flight loads and available upgrades for me. Now I just needed to ensure my hip was in a fit state and prove my progress to Bankesy.

After my week off hydro and having experienced new severe pain intermittently since Saturday, I was looking forward to getting back in the pool on Monday. I practiced my usual exercises with ease and even managed to walk multiple lengths of the pool completely unassisted. Throughout the session I had typical minor pains and aches until right at the end, when this sharp ‘nervy’ pain engulfed my thigh and it was verging on unbearable. It didn’t last too long, by which point it was time to be cranked out of the pool.

I was experiencing this same intolerable pain one or two times a day and I couldn’t quite work out the pattern of what could be causing it. Occasionally it would occur when walking, standing, or sitting so not only was it unavoidable but each time left me questioning whether there was any serious internal damage. I tried to reassure myself that it was to be expected, soft tissue pain, but I couldn’t recall being in this much pain during the previous recovery. Pain is easily forgotten, so I scoured through previous blog posts and came to the same conclusion; this was definitely a whole new type of pain and something could be wrong. Every time I regained positivity and shrugged it off as recovery pains, it would hit me again. I desperately hoped I would be getting on that aeroplane on Saturday, but I started to think it may not be possible.

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In preparation for good news, I spent Thursday packing my belongings and finalising arrangements for every eventuality on Friday. After rush hour, Eli and I ventured up to London Bridge via train and headed straight for the X-ray department. After an hour, it was onto the Orthopaedics waiting area for Bankesy.

As you know, I snap a picture of every X-ray taken for personal tracking purposes. From memory I would estimate that of the fifteen X-rays I’ve had of my hips, only three radiographers have objected to pictures as it’s against hospital policy. However, thanks to a combination of emotional blackmail, puppy dog eyes and mentioning the blog, they cave in ;).

Whilst sitting in the waiting room, I begin to analyse my X-ray and I’m really worried by what I can see. It looks like a thin piece of floating vertical bone just inside the pelvis, level with the screws, and immediately I diagnose my recent pains as a hip fracture. “Bye bye flight home, hello more surgery” I feared.

Another hour passes and finally my name is called and I’m lead into Bankesy’s office. After a short while there’s a knock on the door and in walks Jonathon. No Bankesy today, but at least it was one of his minions that I knew. I first met Jonathon on surgery day, and he came by the ward every day so I wasn’t too disappointed to see him.

First things first, I drew his attention to the ‘floaty’ bone on the X-ray and eagerly awaited his response. He confirmed that it was a floaty bone fragment and that it has somehow gotten dislodged inside my pelvis. “Nothing to worry about as it’ll disintegrate in due course,” he said confidently. Okay, good to know I thought, now let’s discuss the pain. Jonathon asked me a number of questions, and examined my hip’s range of movement and strength and in his professional opinion; “the pain is most likely soft tissue (muscles, nerves, ligaments, tendons) repairing itself.” He then asked if I was seeing a physiotherapist, to which I hesitatingly told him no and that I was rehabbing myself. Jonathon replied that it was obviously working and to continue as he’d never seen someone progress this quickly post-PAO surgery and that my range of movement was incredible. Obviously this was music to my ears, as well as an ego boost, and next on the agenda was my scar. As you know I’m petrified of another wound infection and I figured the best way to ensure this was to keep it covered by reapplying dressings. I was down to my final waterproof dressing and thought I could replenish stock at my appointment; however Jonathon politely declined to give me any. He commented that the wound had completely healed and very nicely too, and that dressings were unnecessary. I begged for a few dressings, just to be on the safe side as I required them for hydro and to protect the wound from waistbands on clothes. He explained that the wound had completely healed so how could an infection arise. I agreed it seemed improbable, although I mentioned that my scar looked identical to this last time and I still caught an infection at five weeks post-op. In the end, puppy dog eyes had no bearing on the outcome and I had no option but to trust Jonathon.

Finally, all that remained me to ask was whether I could fly. Obviously you know the end result, but Jonathon was a little sceptical of the flight duration. It wasn’t until I revealed that I’d kept some blood-thinning injections that he thought it was tremendously clever of me and that he couldn’t see a reason why I shouldn’t fly. YIPPEE!

Within the hour: my flight was booked; Eli and I were on the train back to Reigate; and my dad was also en route to Reigate, to collect me and my clobber for a final night in Reading before heading to Heathrow early doors. I could not wipe the smile off my face and couldn’t believe I would see Andy in approximately 30-hours’ time.

Eli and Kevin did a fabulous job of looking after/putting up with me for so many weeks and I’ll always be grateful. Having been in the UK for two months it had felt like home again and as much as I was looking forward to seeing Andy, I was sad to be leaving everyone behind again.

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It wouldn’t be me without a little bit of drama and a potential set-back before the flight and so last minute anxiety and general flapping ensued…

Between the hours of midday and 18:30 I no longer had a dressing covering the wound, but for the entire time I could feel these superficial sharp twinges. I ignored them to begin with and thought it was probably nothing. Then, after a few hours and whilst in the car from Reigate to Reading, I began checking the wound every time it hurt. I couldn’t see anything but did start to worry. Once home, I continued to check every few minutes and I noticed a small red patch near the bottom of the scar which appeared to have a large lump beneath. Despite family and friends visiting to say goodbye, my mum quickly arranged an emergency Doctor’s appointment in an attempt to secure some antibiotics and put my mind at ease.

The Doc prescribed me antibiotics and luckily I think we caught it early enough. Phew!

The airport staff were great in Heathrow and Abu Dhabi as they wheeled me to and from the aircraft.

The BA crew were equally as great during the flight and I made sure to stretch my legs with regular aisle walks, as well as stretch out my legs in my comfy bed :).

Champers all the way!

I didn’t quite manage to walk into Andrew’s arms in Abu Dhabi airport as predicted. More like I flooded the place with happy tears as I was wheeled into his arms in front of hordes of people. Very emosh times.

On Sunday morning, Andy helped me into our pool and I had a great hydro session.

Then made me breakfast, prepared my lunch, and got me set up on the sofa before going off to work.

Sunday evening was part one of the surprise celebrations as Andy arranged for the girls to come over for dinner. Each time the doorbell rang; I hid behind the arm of our sofa and popped up like meerkat. I literally got rugby tackled and almost strangled with hugs.

It didn’t take long to feel like home again

Surprise two is on Tuesday evening and other plans for the week include hydro every morning, organising our honeymoon album, continuing with House of Cards, 'katching' up with the Kardashians, seeing friends, and of course, spending quality time with my gorgeous man.