@Layla @myglasshalffull
Thank you, I missed you guys very much as well. I second, third and fourth guess everything now. My life moved at a snail's pace but now it moves in reverse. I tried to connect with my 7 yo granddaughter but it's just too hard.
I said it before and I'll say it again, no one understands the risks we take with joint surgery like a fellow hipster. Then it starts to fail and we are falling down the rabbit hole far deeper than we ever imagined, it's traumatizing. The future we thought we had no longer exists. I had been learning to make adjustments to my new mobility issues, but was in no way prepared for the lethal monster that moved under my bed.
I lived outside of town but while hospitalized with pneumonia I was robbed of everything I saved for my retirement, including my pickup and all of my clothes, metal detector, brand new hiking and camping gear, art supplies and, gulp....my Canon 6D, 600mm zoom and various macro lenses. She took stuff that wasn't worth anything except as tools for a handicapped person to survive daily life.
I finally made the move into the next county which all my healthcare people had been pushing me to do. 'Go to Pima Co' they said. 'There's a lot more resources and better drs' they told me. I made the move then made the calls, John from Pima Co Council on Aging returned my call.
'There's no help here for you'. Hmm
I found a great surgeon too. He took an x-ray of my hip and about fell out of his chair saying 'Well I wouldn't have done it that way'.
He'll be happy to replace the knee, which is gone but not touching the hip.
A little over a year now and I still don't have a ramp. I do have 4 rickety stairs and one hand rail with rusty nails sticking out. I had been here a few weeks when I felt something wet on the side of my foot, I couldn't see it and couldn't reach my foot but I did notice my leg turning red after a few days.
My next memory is a nurse checking my IV and me yelling in pain. She said 'Hi, glad you're back you almost died'. Every day someone came in and asked what my name was or what day it was or where was I. It was always on the tip of my tongue but disappeared. One day it all came back and they sent me to a rehab.
I had been in some very nice rehabs with this hip but now I lived in a seedy part of town so I was sent to the rehab from hell. I had to call 911 on the second day and after the police took my statement one of the big managers came to talk to me. 'Aren't you afraid of retaliation from the rest of the staff?' Me? No, I'm not. But this place was run by gang members who stole your pain pills, lied and bullied the patients. And not just me, everyone there lived in fear. I reported them to the state then called my insurance and wanted to know whose bright idea was it to use facilities who are listed as sub par.
I not only have to struggle with my hip, I also have my mental state and severe pain from the sepsis, I'm happy to say I've rounded the corner and I'm improving. A big, big help is I get my groceries delivered. It's expensive but the food banks I've checked out don't have help for handicapped.
I had to find my precious Valkyrie another home. Thinking about her makes me cry, crying right now.
The rabbit hole is deep and unforgiving.