The 'last' operation
It's been a year and two days since my last operation. The word 'last' definitely has some sort of irony. I've had 10 operations in my lifetime, 5 of those were orthopaedic. Normally my blogs are full of humour (hopefully), some sadness and can be a bit of a pity party at times. I'll pre-warn you this is no different, but there's a twist that not even I could have predicted. I'm 37 years old and until I was around 28 I was a keen runner and overall gym bunny, you could never get me out of the place! That feels like a different lifetime to me now, these days I'm lucky if I'm able to walk my two Jack Russells. Since my diagnosis I've always tried to remain optimistic (which doesn't come easy to me) and work hard in physiotherapy, but after each operation my body becomes tired and more difficult to rebuild, my mental health declines and the rehabilitation overall begins to strip my personality a little each time. Hearing my husband tell my con...