Fight or flight

It’s been just over a week now since I’ve been told I need another operation, meaning my overall total will hit double figures. It would be very easy for me to sit and feel sorry for myself, my body has so many faults.

I had my last operation (to my right hip) 7 months ago, and both my physio & consultant have advised that I am now strong enough to have the same operation to my left hip. 

I have femoroacetabular impingement & a retroversion of both femurs. 

It’s a condition that will ultimately lead to arthritis of my hips and knees, but the surgeons are doing all that can to preserve the natural joints. Of course there are no guarantees any of this will work, and I think (understandably) I’ve become more and more negative as this journey continues. 

I know this is no-ones fault though. Sometimes I wish it was, maybe then I’d have someone to blame, but I think this journey has been easier to accept because it wasn’t. This is the body I was born with, this was always the path it was going to take, and the amount of pain I was always going to be in, no matter what I did. My favourite phrase, “it is what it is”, has got me to where I am today. 

It’s hard to imagine it’s taken me over half the year to get strong enough, to be able to shower and dress myself, cook, clean, and get back to work - even walking my dog in the park, but in around 6 weeks time, I’ll be right back to where I started. 

It’s a bit like a shit game of snakes and ladders, but after 36 years of playing, I’m yet to reach the third level up. 

I think that’ll be the hardest part this time, usually I’ve had a year or so to get back to ‘normality’, before I’m thrown into the struggle of post recovery. I cannot even begin to explain to the lucky ones that have never had surgery, the mental strength that is needed. Most will only think of the physical aspect, but those in this ‘club’ will get it. 

I’ve had a variety of comments over the years. Some come with a lack of understanding because it is not a recognised disability, and quite frankly has a shocking awareness, given the thousands that suffer from the same/similar conditions all over the world. 

Most comments are filled with pity and sadness. “How do you cope with it all?” Trust me, if there was a rule book to be written, I’d be a millionaire by now, but all of us are made up differently, there’s no right way to deal with it. 

It would be so easy for me to shut the world out and sulk, not want to go on, but the fight or flight mode seems to kick in eventually. 

Sitting back and suffering in silence is a rite of passage all chronic pain sufferers will go through to begin with, but eventually we get stronger and learn how to get on with the cards we’ve been dealt, to fit this condition around life, rather than the other way around. 

There are times I am grateful for all that my body has taught me, as crazy as that sounds. It has taught me to always be active, in whatever way I can, to make the most of those good days.

I had a fairly healthy 15 years to begin with, but I’d love to talk to her now and tell her to stop watching TV; they’ll be plenty of time for that. 

Of course, at 36, I could never have imagined my bathroom and bedroom would look like a retirement home, with the collection of mobility aids I have now. 

When I look back at it all so far, it’s not sorrow and pity I feel for myself, given what my poor body has had to go through, it’s pride. I’m so proud of everything I have accomplished, in spite of it. 

I can certainly vouch, chronic pain can be extremely hard and is an all round thankless task, but achieving an accountancy degree whilst in the middle of this, why should I feel sorry for myself?