As I write this, my hip replacement is done. However, before I get to how life has been post surgery and what my plans are for the foreseeable future, I’d like to go back to the before.
Before it all happened.
Sunday February 23rd 2025
I had it all arranged. Hubby and I were to spend the night at The Quest apartments in Mont Albert the night before my surgery date as it was as close as we could get to Box Hill Hospital – given I had to be there at 6:30am the Monday morning.
We’d packed everything expecting a smooth run. I was excited, nervous and scared shitless all at the same time. I tried not to let it bother me as we made good time to our destination, instead choosing to focus on the fact that for the first time in months I’d be able to have a decent shower ( I had to be washed in this antiseptic soap stuff the night before and the morning of my surgery) and a good night watching Netflix and sleeping in a – hopefully- comfy bed.
We’d bought dinner from home . Most Quest apartments come fully equipped with everything you need to cook a meal so we were set for a quiet night in.
Upon our arrival we were told that the Disabled room that was booked for us was currently occupied by someone else because our booking was overlooked in the system and consequently not paid for. This meant we had to cough up our own money to pay for a non disabled room ( Not happy Jan!) and after much back and forth, we were eventually given a plastic outdoor chair for me to sit and shower on. It was hell but we managed. The rest of our night wasn’t that great either – with most of the cookware filthy dirty and unclean. Thankfully the microwave worked – so we still had our spaghetti – without the garlic bread.
Stress set in and I couldn’t sleep. I think I managed about two maybe three hours ( if that) before it was time to get up and get ready for me to go to Box Hill Hospital.
Monday Feb 24th 2025
By the time we got down stairs our lovely taxi driver was waiting. This to, was organised and paid for in advance ( Wait for it!) but to no one’s surprise, we also had to pay for that . Granted it was a grand total of $6.00 but still.
Anyway, hospital admissions opened at 6:30 am sharp and I was the 2nd person to be called up. It wasn’t long before I found myself getting prepped for surgery and by 8:15 am I was with the anesthetist – Candy her name was. Lovely, nerdy woman. Full of silly jokes, Star Trek references and bright, hot pink hair.
They gave me a spinal and by god that hurt. Having to guide her where to aim the needle was painful but surprisingly it didn’t take that long because, as I was so dutifully informed, not many people tend to tell them what’s going on and just sit and suffer. ( Like why? Is my question.)
A few minutes later I was wheeled into the theater and I noticed all the 3D pictures on a screen in front of me.
“Is that me?” I asked surprised
“Yes!” Candy informed me while she plugged me into all the machines . By this stage I was numb from the waist down and had no idea they’d inserted a catheter until someone announced it was done.
At this point, I was starting to get a little freaked out so I squeezed Candy’s hand and told her that she was my friend and not to leave me. She assured me she wasn’t going anywhere and that I’d be OK.
I wanted to meet the Doctor doing the operation before anything happened. They let me say hello which was nice. It was also comforting now that I think back on it. Knowing you’re in good hands always helps . Or at least, it helped me anyway.
The last thing I remember was talking to Candy about something star trek related before I fell asleep. Oddly, I remember thinking ‘I’ll just take a nap. I must be tired’ and I could hear myself breathing.
Unlike my previous surgeries, this one was different. Hand on heart I swear I was out for a total of 15 minutes!
The next thing I know I woke up . There were bright lights and a clock on the wall. I looked at the time . It was Midday.
There was a nurse at the foot of my bed. “Hello” she said, smiling at me “Welcome back! You’re in recovery!”
Shortly thereafter I was taken to the 9th floor. I was put in room 31. A room to myself. Hubby was with me by this point and I don’t remember much except vomiting alot and feeling quite ill. I do remember having a nosebleed but that didn’t last long.
About an hour or so later I was moved again. This time to the far end of the ward which I shared with about four other people. I was moved to make way for an infectious patient ( Or that’s what they said anyway) and to be honest, that was perfectly fine with me. Being in a room on my own would’ve drove me nuts under the circumstances so I was glad to have company – even if that company didn’t say much.
I stayed at Box Hill Hospital for about a week. The first night or so I was on oxygen. It was weird having a peg in your nose helping you breathe but I got used to it soon enough. They woke me every few hours to check my vitals – that’s how I became known as 277**** . The nurses were lovely and helped me when I needed it.
I later found out that not only had I had a full replacement of my right hip but they’d also straightened my pelvis and lengthened the muscles in my right leg so it was the same as my left – which meant I grew a few inches taller! Wah-hoo!
I had been warned that they’d waste no time getting you up on your feet and the very next day after surgery that’s exactly what happened. I met with an in house OT who got me out of bed and gave me a gutter frame. I managed to walk a few small steps ( about 10 meters) before I became to overwhelmed and cried. Over the next few days I kept moving my legs – either by using the frame or simply just moving my legs up and down side to side.
I was once asked if I was bored while in hospital. Short answer? No. Not for one second. There was always something happening on my ward. From the woman with multiple personality disorder complaining of severe pain, to the man who was so out of it he had no idea where he was ( poor guy) to the main attraction, a feisty old Italian woman named Rosa – who, despite having had a full knee reconstruction was determined to go home. I felt so sorry for the nurses, constantly run off their feet shouting “Rosa! Where are you going?!” or “Rosa! You’re in Hospital! You can’t go home yet!” or “Rosa! Have you fallen off the toilet again?!”
( At time of writing I do so hope Rosa has gone home to her family and that she’s healing well)
While in Hospital I had my support workers and my Hubby by side helping me where they could. Hubby was very hands on with everything – which the nurses appreciated as it gave them a bit more time to assist other patients.
What I will say is – I became an expert at rolling! Not being able to take myself to the toilet, I had to wear a special pad most of the time. My nickname became “Rolly Corie” which amused everyone to no end.
By Friday morning, I was told I was being moved to the Peter James Centre to continue my Rehabilitation. By midday I was taken to the transport lounge – where I had a spot of lunch and by 5pm I found myself in East Ward of the Peter James Rehabilitation Hospital.
But this blog is long enough for now. You shall read all about that when I get to part 2 in the next day or so
Cheers and thanks for reading
CJ
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