@Royal1383 - literally, I found the BoneSmart forum because I Googled something akin to "terrified to have total hip replacement." It picked up on posts from others expressing that sentiment. You are not alone. Please remember that.
I have dealt with varying degrees of anxiety my whole life. I feel like I come by it honestly, as my beloved grandmother was a championship blue-ribbon worthy worrier. Ha Ha
The thing about anxiety is that you tell yourself if you can stay one step ahead of it, that you can beat it. You can anticipate it. You can prevent it, even. Meaning, if you prepare for every disaster and contingency, then you will be prepared and won't be caught off guard. Sounds great, as I love to plan. Problem is, it doesn't really always work. And too often we give away today's peace and joy for fear and dread of things that never happen. Stuff that never materializes.
I had total hip replacement 12 days ago. I am in my mid-forties. There are other BoneSmarties here younger than me- a lovely lady from Australia who is 29, and even someone I've seen in their teens.
Yes, surgery has risks. But life itself has risks. Was I freaked out about having hip replacement surgery? Did I second guess if it was really necessary? Did I wrestle with whether I should fill out the pre-surgery living will paperwork just in case? Yes, yes and yes.
Only you can decide for you what is right for you and when. I'm not trying to nudge you in any direction. In fact, when I feel pressured to do something, I find that I can dig my heels in a bit and refuse, just because.
When I went to the orthopedic surgeon for a consult I knew deep down where the path would lead. But I held out hope that I might still be a candidate for injections or for orthotics, or for anything less drastic than joint replacement.
My surgeon is a polite, quirky, and matter of fact guy. Within a few minutes of speaking with me he had his nurse come in to schedule the surgery, and she handed me brochures and gave me a parking pass for the day of the surgery. I realize that this is their day to day reality, but I became overwhelmed and felt like all control was slipping away, as if I had been caught up in a raging current that was tossing me about, headed for somewhere I didn't want to go.
So I left, shaking and in tears, and refusing to commit to any date for surgery.
I thought about it all long and hard that afternoon and in to the evening. I cried myself to sleep over it. And the next day, I called and set the surgery date.
What helped propel me, I attribute to various factors. For one, the sober realization that as much as I would like to think I am, I'm really not 100% in control of things. I am a Christian, and I do believe in a God who loves me and has a plan for my life. Second, knowing that my osteoarthritis was only going to get worse and more debilitating was a factor. I developed my hip problem at age 12, so it's basically all I know. Over the years the arthritis had progressed until there was no space above the femur like there should be- just bone against bone agony.
You don't realize the pain, the stiffness, the aching, the limitations, etc are getting a little worse each year. It's like pushing a wheelbarrow with bricks. You learn to manage, somehow, not noticing that with time more bricks are being added. Until finally you think, "Oh my gosh- this burden has gotten to be too much."
When you have chronic pain you build up a certain acceptance of it. It's just how it is. It is your normal. And while not fun or desirable, it's what you know. It's familiar. It stinks, yes, but it is the status quo.
I started having issues moving between sitting and standing. Getting up from my desk at work or getting out of the car after driving meant a pause to adjust, to get my leg straightened out somehow, before I could go. Last year I took a business trip for work which was rare and I realized how hard it was for me to walk the big airport. And then, what became my proverbial last straw was I could no longer sleep. I would wake up countless times at night, pain and popping occurring in my hip ball. I had to abandon the bed in favor of the recliner, which helped with sleeping if I contorted into an angle. I did this for months.
To a degree, our circumstances will always dictate our lives. Some are born into wealth; some into poverty, for instance. But sometimes circumstances don't have to define us.
I've spent a lifetime with a limp and with being different. It at times has been very isolating and difficult.
I feel like my hip surgery is a new beginning for me. A second chance. The support on this site has been tremendous. It helps so much just knowing that your fears and your pain are validated and that the success and the improved quality of life others have could be possible for me too.
I get where you are coming from. I have been all over the place in my emotions and feelings. I decided on the surgery, but still had second thoughts. Even though I kept hearing my surgeon in my head say how bad my hip was, that the next phase for me would be falling from a collapsed hip, that wasn't fully enough to convince me this was the right thing to do. Or maybe not the right, "ideal" time.
I had the surgery. And true to my nature, here in the beginning of my new normal, I am at times proud and elated. And sometimes I have wondered, "What did I do?" to myself.
It's a major surgery. It is not going to be without some discomfort. No two persons' experience is the same. Even those who have had both hips replaced report different experiences.
Should you be concerned about surgery? Yes, I think it is your responsibility to make your health a priority, and it is absolutely normal to have some amount of fear.
Should you educate yourself and make as many preparations as possible? Yes. For me, this made something daunting and overwhelming feel more manageable, like a project. There are certain things that are helpful to know and to have for recovery.
I ordered a book from Amazon about hip replacement surgery. It is in another room, but I can tell you without the benefit of a direct quote that there are around 300,000 hip replacements performed in the U.S. each year and the success rate is really high while complications are low.
Would it be easier and more acceptable if the success rate was 100% and the complication rate 0%? Well, of course. But life doesn't have guarantees like that. Just know, however, the odds are in your favor.
As I mentioned, I am a little shy of two weeks post surgery. I'm not an expert on any of this. I'm just a fellow person who is reaching out to you to share and hold your hand a bit.
I feel some of my strength returning. I feel like I can stand on both of my legs now in a way I haven't in a long time. Yes, I have some post surgery pain, but I take comfort knowing it will get better. And this pain doesn't feel like the arthritic pain. It makes me weep to envision both the surgery pain and the arthritis pain being gone. It seems almost too good to be true. I am humbled, somehow, that I am receiving this gift.
Still, at times I find my negative thinking patterns creeping back in, the ones saying, "Yeah, things so far are good, but what does the future hold? What if you have a dislocation? What if you get an infection? What happens if you need the replacement replaced?" These are all valid and reasonable, I think. But there's nothing- absolutely nothing- that the worry and the fear today is going to buffer or prevent tomorrow. And meanwhile, today is all I have.
Life is short and hard as it is. There's being prudent, and then there's becoming a hostage to your anxiety.
I will not be bungee jumping in the future. I will raise the question of whether I need antibiotics before I need any major dental work. That's just prudent. Like you need to look both ways for traffic before crossing the street. But that is different than being paralyzed with worry about what ifs that may never happen.
In addition to books I read that helped me focus on facts about the surgery and approach things logically, I also ordered a CD of meditations and affirmations for successful surgery and healing. If you are like me (and I believe you are), it helps to have beneficial thoughts to replace the troubling thoughts our minds can get stuck on. It forces you to change the channel.
I hope this is of some value to you. The site has been so useful to me, I want to pay it forward.
Only you know how you feel and what you need. And sometimes you probably even question yourself what that is. I understand.
The pre-op phase can be awful because of the roller coaster of emotions. It's okay. Take a deep breath. Ask yourself the following when you are calm: 1. Will my situation improve if not treated? 2. Is there sufficient evidence to support that having this surgery will improve my quality of life? 3. Do the benefits outweigh the risks? 4. Am I confident with the competence of my surgeon and medical facility? 5. Am I willing to accept more pain and less function for my life in exchange for not facing my fears?
If this were simple, we would not need this forum. I hope with it you will find comfort and kinship, answers and empowerment. Continue being honest with your feelings. But remember feelings aren't always reliable. Whether you're someone who needs a lot of info to be at ease, or someone who needs to be sheltered from details, or somewhere in between, find the approach that works for you.
Tragedy in life will always be there- unexpected, unsettling, inexplicable. The first five minutes of a news broadcast are enough to make you want to give up and stay in bed at times. Just be sure to give equal, if not more, attention to the other concurrent reality- one of hope, of healing, of love and of possibilities, triumph and victory.
For me this journey has been figuratively, and now literally, one step at a time. One foot in front of another.
We are cheering you on and wish you peace of mind and comfort for body.
United States
And true to form, this surgeon took very good care of my unconscious body, because I have almost no bruising and very little swelling this time.
