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Hip, Hip, Hooray

Yesterday was another eventful day at our home away from home, The Eisenhower Medical Center. Linda had her right hip replaced, finally. For the first time in our 43 years of marriage, today, she is not the same woman I married. Now we can refer to her as, "New and Improved." Like New Coke, but with a better marketing plan.

For those of us who don't suffer from chronic pain, we can't grasp what someone who does, goes through every day. Not being able to do the simplest of tasks is frustrating and of course painful. Simple things like going to the grocery store become overwhelming and disheartening.

Linda has been suffering with this for several years. Doctors have tried physical therapy, shots, pills, and a host of other thigs that didn't work, or worked for a few days. Finally she made it to Medicare age, last October, only to be thwarted by Covid. They weren't doing any elective surgeries so she had to wait. In pain. Until yesterday.

We arrived at our appointed time of 7:30 AM and checked-in. The nice young lady reminded us that if we are able to squeeze in one more operation, or hospital visit, before May of 2022 we win a free weekend cleansing at Betty Ford on the campus, so a big carrot hanging out there.

They spent around two hours getting her prepped, and then the nurse told me to get the hell out of the hospital, and that they would call me when she was ready to come home. What you see above is basically what they installed under the hood. This surgery, today, is way easier on the patient then the old way. Two little cuts in front, and they take out the old, and insert the new. Easy, peasy.

They sent her home about five hours after the start of surgery, and that included, the operation, eating, and taking a short walk around the hospital physical therapy room. She was still semi delirious when I came to get her. The nurse whet over instructions for that night, and today, and they included a reminder to, not sign any legal documents, make any big decisions, or drive heavy equipment. So there went my plans for taking over the Marich financial empire and getting her to drive the new tractor home.

She is doing remarkably well. She says she is sore but not in any pain. Of course she is popping pain killers like Chicklets, even Bret Favre is calling and telling her to slow down.

For those that know her, today she starts her physical therapy, and she will be at 90% healthy by Thanksgiving. They told her after her labrum surgery, on her shoulder, it would take her about seven to eight months to regain full rotation and use. She was at 100% in less than three months. She is tougher than she looks.

This will be her primary means of transportation for the foreseeable future. The doctor and nurses have reminded her that she is not allowed to drive until given the all clear by the doctor. I laugh and tell them that clearly they don't know her. The doctor even suggested I should take away her car keys, and I politely told him I wanted to live a bit longer.

For now all I am focused on is making sure she doesn't fall and do any damage to what they've already fixed. She is supposed to call for me to help her get up, walk, and move around. Of course I see her fast walking from the living room to the kitchen before I can get to her. She, of course ignores me and continues on by herself.

I am happy for her that she was finally able to have this done and I hope she will be pain free. I will continue to be her one remaining pain.

Until they figure out a surgery for that, then I may be in trouble.

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