best laid plans

For the longest time, I didn't post because I didn't have anything to say. My hip was unchanged. My life was stuck. I didn't want to hear myself whine.

For the past month, I haven't posted because I've been busy: my father got very sick in the span of ten days. He landed in intensive care and I took the next plane to DC. He was in the hospital for three weeks, during which time my mother and I were either at the hospital or sleeping, and sometimes both.

Now he's home and getting antibiotics three times a day through an IV. We take very short walks in the early spring sunshine. We talk about skiing dreams and the evils of condo developers and whether the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" has a more iconic opening guitar lick than "Gimme Shelter." He is slowly, slowly getting better.

I haven't really processed that I nearly lost him.

But I didn't.

It's finally time: the PAO surgery on my left hip is tomorrow at 9:30 am.

They will also take the screws out of my right hip while I'm under. I'm happy about that. The screws are mildly uncomfortable and I'm looking forward to having them as souvenirs.

I have a few items left on my pre-hospital to-do list, but I'm mostly ready. I can finish up in the time I have left.

I have no items left on my mental list. I'm ready. I'm tired of thinking about the freedom I'm about to lose. When I wake up after surgery, it won't matter anymore. All that will matter is recovery. And that's long and hard, but I did it once, and I can do it again. I want two good hips.

My hospital bag is packed. I don't remember what I brought last year, but this year:

baby wipes (they help me feel cleaner)
kleenex pocket pack (hospital tissue is rough)
lip balm
ponytail holders
elastic headband
hairbrush
face moisturizer
antibacterial hand wipes
hand lotion (the wipes dry out my hands)
ear plugs (hospitals can be loud)
sleep mask (people walk in and turn on the lights)
deodorant
toothbrush
emery boards
iPod
cell phone
chargers for both of above
fleece throw blanket (soft, warm, something from home)

I'm lucky that we live so close to the hospital. After four or five days, depending on how I'm doing, physical therapy will have me climb stairs with crutches. Seatmate will bring in loose shorts and a t-shirt for that.

Then, around six or seven days, provided I have no complications, I'll be discharged and come home to my own bed and no one waking me for vitals every four hours. I'm already looking forward to that.

By this time tomorrow, I should be somewhere between recovery and my room on the orthopedic unit. I'll be awake to see the first few innings of the Red Sox game tomorrow night. I love watching Josh Beckett pitch.

Here we go.

30 weeks post-op.

I've learned a few things.

I've learned that if I wash my face consistently with a gentle sponge, every single day, I get smooth, radiant skin. I don't break out often -- I'm lucky like that -- but my skin looked so dull earlier this year and now it looks awesome. No chemicals, no expensive creams, just some glycerine soap and a sponge. I wore my usual minimal makeup to a hockey game last night and kept glancing in mirrors. Trust.

I've learned that if I don't back up my iPod consistently, every single day, I run the risk of scheduling appointments on top of each other. I had an oh-shit moment when I thought I'd scheduled physical therapy and the dentist at the same time, but I got lucky and only learned a lesson instead. Back it up.

I've learned that if I don't use my journal, it goes unused, and I miss it. I use my Twitter account (short little span of attention), but I'm far too chatty for 140 characters a pop. It's surprisingly fun, but it's not a journal. I mostly use it for sports talk, anyway, because I try to keep that off my journal. And complaining where companies can see their names and get back to me is pretty satisfying. It works.

I've learned that a long recovery is longer than I ever imagined, but that I keep getting better. I use a cane outside the house and nothing at home. I can walk with both hands full. I limp on the right side because the supporting muscles are still weak, but the joint doesn't hurt, which is amazing. Sometimes, especially when I'm tired, my hip aches around the break points and near the screws, which will be removed this summer. The bones will need a long time to heal completely. But mostly, my right hip is great.

My left hip is breaking down fast. Some days are better than others, but it's never good. I limp on my left side because it hurts. I'm sort of glad it hurts. This summer, I'm having a PAO on my left hip. I seriously do not want to do this again, but the fact that my left hip aches like a rotten tooth will help. This time next year, I should be walking around on two corrected hips.

I've learned that I like some hip-hop, and I'm trying to figure out why I like the songs I like so I can find more. Seatmate does not much like hip-hop and teases me gently about it. I've also learned that he hates trance, so I only play it when he's not around. What he hates about trance is what I love about it: it's the same thing over and over. I find it relaxing. "That's why they make Fords and Chevys," he says.

I'll leave you with a video combining two favorites: trance and skiing.

I was a terrible powder (deep lightweight snow) skier. I grew up in the east (US); I don't have much experience with powder. An instructor said I worked too hard and needed to let the skis run. I would deal with any conditions if I could just ski again. I miss it.

I'm learning that I can be happy without skiing, but I'm still working on that.