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2013-03-16 10.38.36Sunday here in Australia. It’s been a long weekend here for me as we had our local Callide Valley Show – a regional holiday on Friday.

I sometimes wonder where the hip story ends, but I guess I know the the answer. It just keeps, keeping on. The never-ending story, to borrow a movie title.

Three years on, the revised hip still hurts, makes it difficult to sit and sleep and due to residual nerve damage, I tend to trip when my foot doesn’t quite figure out where the obstacle is – which then leads to a new set of pain… acute, rather than chronic. And I will never run again, even if my life depends on it!

The left hip is definitely on the “way out” and is not able to be slept on most of the time – which is a problem for those of us that have to sleep on our sides, to sleep. Running out of sides to sleep on and I can’t sleep on my back or my front!

After the last operation and the damage to the right peroneal nerve, foot drop and the subsequent 90% recovery, my feet started hurting “like hell” – akin to a diabetic neuropathy, except I have no diabetes. This has continued and comes and goes – who knows why?

And last year there was 3 months of trochanteric bursitis and a number of steroid injections which seemed to finally work.

I managed to keep most pain under control over the last few years with daily anti-inflammatory drugs  – such as Votaren and Naproxen SR1000 – but I can’t take these anymore as they made my insides and gums bleed – and who knows what else? So back to the full enjoyment of osteoarthritis and post-revision pain. Lucky me (self pity)!

And now for the latest variety event – peroneal tendonitis – yep, the outside of the feet hurt like someone had put a hot iron on them, actually worse, more like someone is standing on them with hobnail boots. And good old paracetamol, the universal pacifier dished out by those doctors who have not experienced pain, is about as useful as a jelly holding a hot cup of soup.

At least, I have lots of variety and I have pretty much overcome the clinical depression that dogged me after losing both parents since 2005, my health, metal on metal hip poisoning, a large fortune, my wife (now with the rich boyfriend) and my kids to another country.

The secret to this “survival thing” is learning to be grateful for what I do have, not what I don’t have, or what I used to have. It was a hard series of lessons – character building, or destroying, depending on your perspective, but I can truly say that I am much better off than many others and grateful for what I do have. This doesn’t mean that I don’t have days where I just hate life, but it does mean that I more quickly break out of that self pity which would destroy every good thing that I do have.

I don’t think many doctors or surgeons, except Dr Steve, understand the complexity of what we hip sufferers go through. It is not just a simple “change out of defective parts” and “live happily ever after”. It is a complete package of attacks on every fibre of your being and takes considerable strength not to “fall off, or jump off, the perch”.

At the end of the day, the only person who can help you is you, the rest are side-line referees, telling you useless stats, and penalising you for wrong moves. Only you can keep the game on track. I wish there was a magic bullet, but there isn’t. Sheer guts, determination and refusing to give in is the only way through. Otherwise the “bastards win” and you become another statistic on the “scrap heap of life”. Bugger that!

Anyway, got that off my chest!

Have a great Sunday, wherever you are.

 

Earl

 

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