MIND BODY CONNECTION

My total hip replacement surgery is just two days away now - Tuesday morning at 8:15 AM to be exact. It's a little freaky to accept that my doctor will cut into me, saw off parts of my bones & replace them with metal parts. While I work on calmly resigning myself to this fact, I am focusing on using guided imagery to keep myself relaxed in a positive place for surgery, minimize the pain & bleeding, promote healing & making a speedy recovery.

I have always believed that our minds have amazing control over our bodies & our health. Pretty much everyone believes we can make ourselves sick, so doesn't it stand to reason that our minds can also make ourselves better? There is such power in our brains & our subconscious but we don't know how to fully use it for our benefit. Back during the years I was going through menopause, I could bring on a hot flash in a matter of seconds just by thinking of it engulfing my body in searing heat. BUT, damned if I could figure out how to stop one in its tracks as soon as it started.

I believe that meditation & guided imagery is a fantastic tool to aid us in preparing ourselves for a positive experience as we face surgery. Fifteen years ago when my father was having his first back surgery, I did some research & purchased a CD titled "Preparing for Surgery - guided imagery exercises for relaxation & accelerated healing". The CD includes an introduction & three 22 - 25 minute guided imagery sessions - the first for before surgery, the next for the day of surgery & the last for healing after surgery. The CD is narrated by Dr. Martin Rossman who co-founded the Academy for Guided Imagery.

Way back when, my dad agreed to listen to the CD prior to his back surgery even though I'm sure he thought it was gobbly gook. Dr. Rossman puts suggestions into your mind that you don't have to believe will work or know how it works but your body can use to promote healing. He stresses that your body knows how to minimize bleeding during surgery. One of the first things my dad's surgeon told me when he came to talk to me after the procedure was that there was remarkably little bleeding. Whoa! I was a believer.

Over the years I have copied the CD & shared it with a few friends facing surgery. Being one who likes to put my money where my mouth is I pulled my trusty Guided Imagery CD out of the file cabinet & started listening to it several days ago. I bought a small CD player on ebay & will be listening to the day of surgery mediation as well as taking it with me to listen to the healing after surgery one in the hospital. The Joint Institute staff encourages us to bring music or meditations.

While I am not looking forward to this surgery by any means, I am definitely looking forward to two weeks from now when it will all be over & I should be well on my way to healing & being pain free. I know that it is time. It won't get better on its own. I am 100% confident that I am in the best place possible with the best surgeon doing the surgery. I am as prepared as I can be for a positive outcome. I have numerous friends & family members who are keeping me in their prayers, sending good wishes & generally supporting me. But I'm still scared. This is my first major surgery - ever!

I even filled out the Advance Directive form with my health care wishes just in case it all goes to hell.  And as my son pointed out over dinner last week, "That's good, but I think with a spinal block instead of general anesthetic & replacing your hip joint, it will be pretty hard to kill you. They would really have to work at it." True!

So, here we go!  I'll keep you all posted.

SCORING DRUGS IS NOT EASY

Okay, one more rant before I begin to calm down, relax, listen to my guided imagery CD & generally prepare myself for successful surgery. But first, I have to say that our medical system is genuinely fucked up (sorry, but my soapbox rants usually include a few swear words!)

I spent the past four days at four different pharmacies attempting to fill my prescription for Vicodin from my surgeon in Fremont. They told me to fill it prior to my surgery so I would have the pain medication at my disposal. My prescriptions are normally filled through mail order but I have a local CVS on file for one time things. I headed to CVS on Monday with my prescription in hand. Interestingly, I found out that CVS doesn't take my insurance, Medicare & Tricare for Life (the military retirees insurance). Fine. Guess that's good to know.

I went to Walgreens & was assured they take the insurance & can fill it with doctor approval. Apparently, since doctors give this stuff out like candy for any ache or pain, there are now new regulations limiting the dispensing of Vicodin. They would contact the doctor & I should come back the following day. I did & it wasn't ready. The doctor hadn't gotten back to them. Hmmm, every time I call the office they return my call within a couple hours. This was now Tuesday.

On Wednesday morning, I got smart & called using their automated phone system to check if my drugs were ready. Can anyone talk to those recordings in the same voice that you talk to a real person? I sure can't. Anyway, still not ready....waiting for the doctor. I pushed the number to talk to a real person. I read them the riot act & told them that if it wasn't ready the next day, this morning, I was coming down to get my prescription & go elsewhere.

To cover my ass, I called RiteAid to make sure they took my insurance & would fill the prescription if needed. Sure enough, the same run around this morning from Walgreen's, now Thursday! I told Lou I was going down to yell at Walgreen's & get this shit done. Enough already! My surgery is now only five days away & call me crazy but I definitely want some pain medication available.

The woman at RiteAid was wonderful after hearing my sob story. She said we can certainly do it but will have to call the doctor. I said, "Call them." I had called them yesterday & they had no record of anyone asking about approval but were happy to help. Two minutes later, she comes out from the back with an I'm sorry look on her face. She says, "I really wanted to help you but we can't fill a narcotic prescription outside of Placer or Sacramento counties." I muttered "Thanks," but didn't really mean it.

Back home I started calling pharmacies. Eventually a really nice man named Daniel at WalMart helped me with good information. He said technically a pharmacy can't refuse to fill a prescription outside of the area. They could do it with doctor approval BUT he didn't have enough of the correct dose to fill my prescription. I genuinely thanked Daniel for his help.

Finally, on the third WalMart I called, they said they had enough medication, would take my insurance & if the doctor approved it they could do it. Off I went again. Ultimately, they did fill the prescription but only for 70 pills instead of 100 for some reason or other. By then, I really didn't care what bullshit regulations they were spouting. THEN they had to call the doctor to make sure they could fill the prescription for LESS than the prescribed amount. The doctor said, "If she is okay with it, we are okay with it." I said, "I'm okay with it, please fill it."

So, I am now the proud owner of 70 generic Vicodin pills & it only took four days of my time! Twenty-five years ago I took one when I had a breast biopsy & it knocked me on my ass. This same medication made my sister throw up & had my son feeling like he was high on drugs so I don't even know if I'll be able to take it.

BUT there is some possible good news. My son thinks there is a street value of probably $3 to $4 per pill if I want to sell them. Well, guess what? Those 70 pills cost me $3.04......sooooo, I could make a cool profit of $250. Don't panic, that was obviously said tongue in cheek.......I think.

THE COUNTDOWN BEGINS

After nine months of varying degrees of pain & discomfort, my hip replacement surgery is scheduled for July 17 - just nineteen days away! I chose to go to the Institute for Joint Replacement (IJR) in Fremont (about 120 miles from our home). My son lives 12 miles away in Hayward making it easy to drive in yesterday to play with my Charley before all my pre-op appointments today.

I headed out this morning & took the shortest route down Mission Blvd. This area is my old stomping grounds. I lived in Hayward for 50 years & spent a lot of time up & down Mission Blvd. Not surprisingly, I was bombarded by memories of every era of my life - the McDonald's where Darrin & I created "Ash Scattering by Air"; Darrin's high school; the barn (now houses) where I rode horses; the old roller skating rink (now a pile of rubble); the first apartment building where my sister lived; Big Daddy's Drive-In (long gone); & Darrin's train club at the Niles Depot to name a few.

The list goes on & on with literally about 100 places or events from my past popping into my mind as I drove by the images of my life. Many things are gone or look different now but they all came alive in my thoughts. And, there are quite a few memories that will continue to remain completely personal as a smile crossed my lips.

But back to my impending hip surgery. Let me be clear - I don't want it! I'm somewhat unnerved since I have never in my 68 years had major surgery! I'm apprehensive about every bit of it! AND I keep hoping I'll wake up one morning, feel fine & be able to walk without pain. BUT seeing as how that hasn't happened, I am resigned to knowing that if I want any kind of active life in my remaining years, this is absolutely necessary.

Having done my homework, I am 100% sure that I have one of the best surgeons in the country & am at the best place possible to have my hip replaced. Everyone I have met or interacted with from the scheduler to the physician's assistants to the physical therapist to the doctor has impressed the hell out of me! They have dotted every "i" & crossed every "t" - several times. I feel valued as a person, not just a patient.

A couple weeks ago, I received a binder full of information regarding every aspect of my hip surgery. There were forms to fill out & chapters covering pretty much anything & everything about the procedures that have been finely honed down to every tiny detail. I was told to bring the binder with me to every appointment for the next year starting today.

The surgery will be done with a spinal block not general anesthetic, meaning I will be awake, making recovery easier. I will be given the choice of watching my surgery on monitors or being almost asleep with sedation. Uhhh, right - no way in holy hell am I watching the surgeon saw off pieces of my bones & pound metal into me! I'll take door number two & sleep through it!

Anyway, today after having blood drawn, peeing in a cup, getting an EKG & having my hip x-rayed, I was interviewed by a nurse who put everything into the computer. The IJR is attached to Washington Hospital in Fremont but has its own testing area, its own patient rooms & is separate from the hospital other than using their operating rooms. Next I was seen by a physician's assistant who double checked all the information & gave me a complete rundown of exactly what to expect.

My final pre-op event today was a class given by occupational & physical therapists who work for IJR. About 8 or 9 of us knee & hip replacement candidates filed into the Power Point presentation all carrying our required binders like good little students. They shared everything that will happen from the night before surgery up until we are discharged & beyond. I am as well informed & as ready as I'll ever be.

A long time ago I bought a CD for my dad that uses guided imagery meditations in preparing for surgery. I made him listen to it before his back surgery 15 years ago. It says that you don't need to believe it will work just let the suggestions simmer in your subconscious - one of which is reducing the blood flow during surgery. When he surgeon talked to us afterwards, he remarked how remarkable little bleeding there was. Whoa! I'm a believer!

I've shared it with several people since then & have started listening to it myself this past week. I even bought an old refurbished CD player on ebay to take to the hospital. The IJR encourages people to listen to whatever music or relaxation CDs they prefer. There is a "day of surgery" meditation & a "healing after surgery" one, too. I'll be listening to both of them!

I'm one who has always liked to cover all the bases so I would not be at all adverse to anyone who might want to say a prayer or think good thoughts for my successful outcome on July 17th. If all goes as planned, I will be home on July 18th & will keep you posted.

POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE

Last week a friend, Helen, posted on Facebook that it had been 50 years since she graduated from high school. As I marveled at that statement, my first thought was simply "Wow!" Then I realized that since we are the same age it has also been 50 years since I graduated from high school. OH, MY GOD! Fifty years! Half a century! That is a long ass time! The math can't possibly be right, can it?

Honestly, I hadn't even considered how many years it had been since I graduated. It never even entered my mind to wonder how long ago I completed high school. I only went to one reunion, my tenth, & really wasn't interested in any more. I haven't kept in touch with anyone from my high school days. We all went our separate ways & moved on to adulthood.

Many people I know love reminiscing about their teenage years & miss them dearly. Truthfully, I hated school - pretty much from grammar school on but especially my high school days. I have no real idea why I had no use for school, but I didn't. I was an intelligent young woman who got good grades & graduated 9th in my class of over 400. For a couple years I hung out with the brainiacs but really didn't fit into that group.

My junior year I moved on to the hippie scene (this was the mid-1960s after all). But again, I didn't fit in well since I refrained from "free love" & only smoked grass (that was our term of choice for marijuana) once or twice. Looking back I never liked the feeling of being out of control. And probably the biggest reason was that I was afraid my mother would indeed kill me if I came home stoned or pregnant. The worst thing I did was take up smoking at age 16. Fortunately, I quit ten years later & have never smoked a cigarette again.

Now, that my mother has long ago passed away & my father will never see this, I can share my greatest teenage deception. My parents had a cute, little two-seater sports car - a 1960 British MGA. That was the car I learned to drive on & I loved tooling around, shifting & enjoying the wind in my hair with the top down. I had cut if off super short like Mia Farrow in Peyton Place. Only if you are on the other side of 60 will you understand this reference.

Back to my version of hell raising (Hah!). The gas gauge didn't work so we used the trip odometer to make sure we filled it up every 250 miles or so before resetting it. Somehow, I discovered that if you twisted the little knob backwards you could take miles off the trip odometer rather than pushing it to zero it out. Myself & two girlfriends (you could squeeze three of us in the two seats) would take the MG to San Leandro to cruise East 14th Street on Friday nights. In hindsight, I'm not sure what the big draw was about cruising. Do kids still do it?

Anyway, to cover our tracks, we knew that the car got about 25 miles per gallon so we would turn the odometer back however many miles we put on the car & added enough gas to cover those miles. My parents never found out! There was a great deal of satisfaction knowing I put one over on my mother. I guess it was my way of living dangerously as a sixteen year old.

Yeah, that was about as wild as this child got during my high school years. I started riding horses when I was fourteen. My social focus was always at the stable after school & on weekends. I didn't participate in any clubs or after school activities. I didn't attend my Junior Prom or Senior Ball - just wasn't interested. All I wanted from school was O-U-T, OUT! Even with those great grades, I did not want to go to college. I had enough of school & was adamant that I wasn't going any longer than the law made me.

Those of you who know me are aware that I am an emotional person. I cry at movies, books & even Folgers coffee commercials where the kid comes home from school to surprise his mom. Those Christmastime ads with the Budweiser draft horses get me every time. A heartfelt card or sentiment from any of my sweeties & I'm a blubbering mess.

BUT when my high school graduation day finally arrived, I never teared up or sniffled at anything. There wasn't one emotional moment which I still find hard to believe. I was just so damned happy to get my diploma & get the hell out of there! I'm pretty sure I headed for the barn to celebrate with my horse.

AN INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT AVOIDED

Here is my slightly tongue-in-cheek account of passing through security at Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi, India.

On our recent flight back to the United States, the Indian airport security made our American TSA experience seem like a speedy, efficient, well-oiled machine. Due to the fact that Lou was pushing me in his dad's transport wheelchair, we were directed to a different line. Everything electronic had to be removed from our carry on bags - phones, tablets, cameras, chargers, kindles, batteries, etc.

None of the metal detectors were working or they just didn't feel like using them, not sure which. They were wanding all the men. I stepped out of the wheelchair & was motioned into a small booth (not unlike the old voting booths) where a woman in traditional burka clothing motioned for me to turn around. She ran her hands up & down my body until she was convinced that I wasn't carrying anything that could blow the plane out of the sky.

I made it out the other side of the voting booth & Lou soon joined me. He had apparently passed the wand test assuring a terrorist-free flight. Our experience had been that they would get to the wheelchair when they felt like it, so we waited patiently using the time to put all of our electronics back in our carry ons.

At this point one of the camouflage clad agents held up my purse looking for the owner. I raised my hand & he communicated that he needed to open it. I nodded as he unzipped it & began rummaging through the contents. He removed my wallet, sunglasses, quart bag of liquids & a few other things. He took out my small makeup type bag that contains a few medicines, bandaids, a mirror, lipstick, etc.

Finding nothing, he put it back through the x-ray machine. Another camo agent checking the screen again told him to search it. Once more, everything was removed & rummaged through as I stood quietly by. I waited as he spread my dental floss, ibuprofen, panty liners, lip balm & other assorted toiletries out on the table. About this time I was beginning to think that maybe it was my corkscrew buried in the bottom of the makeup bag. But I wasn't about to bring it to his attention.

Thirty years ago when I started getting into wine, I vowed to never be without a corkscrew. I always carry one with me. And it has come in handy many times. You really never know when you will need to open a bottle of wine.

One time about 25 years ago, my ex-husband & I were in Tahoe. We stepped into the elevator in Harvey's to ride up to our 20-whatever floor room. Two young men got on, also. They had grocery bags with them & one pulled out a 2-liter bottle of wine. The other one started giving him a hard time saying, "Why the hell did you buy that? How are you going to open it?" I immediately scrounged around my purse & withdrew my corkscrew saying, "Here ya go!" His smug look at his friend made me smile as he opened his bottle of wine on the elevator ride.

But I digress. Back in Delhi at the security table, after the third search, the camo guy pulled out my corkscrew, took it apart, looked at it & asked what it was. I replied, "A corkscrew." I have learned over the years not to volunteer too much information & give minimal answers. He looked puzzled so I added, "It's to open wine bottles." Still confused he took the offending "weapon" to a higher up camo guy. A minute later he returned, put it back in my purse & sent us on our way to the gate with no further explanation.

Apparently, we avoided an international incident regarding the attempted smuggling of a sharp pointed, curly cue corkscrew. A scenario flashed through my mind where I separated my corkscrew from its holder, held it up & shouted, "Get back! I've got a corkscrew & I'm not afraid to use it!"

Eventually they decided we weren't hiding any explosives in the wheelchair either & we were finally on our way. BUT upon arriving at the gate, we discovered yet another security screening. Yep, all the electronics had to be taken out of the bags again, our shoes had to come off this time & the wheelchair was searched again. Any water that was purchased had to be discarded. HOWEVER, my corkscrew made it through with no further issue!

HALF A WORLD AWAY

It is really difficult to remain calm & positive when you learn that your only child is in surgery in Oakland after an injury in the Dominican Republic & you are in Thailand, half a world away - literally. Yes, my "child" is 42 years old, but as every mom & dad knows, they are your "babies" as long as you live.

We had left on a 21 day vacation to Singapore, Thailand, Sri Lanka, India, Oman & Dubai just a few days before Darrin's accident. He & Patricia, were on a week long getaway to Punta Cana, DR, that overlapped our trip by a few days. Due to our father's advanced ages & health issues, I had changed my phone service to include international phone calls at 20 cents a minute & free texts so we could keep in touch. BUT it would only work on land, not on the ship.

After a day at sea, we were on a tour in Phuket, Thailand, when my phone beeped with the notification that I had a text. It was to both Allen (Darrin's dad) & me that had been sent the night before. It read in part:

"Hi Allen & Kathy. This is Patricia. Darrin is safe & fine now, but I wanted to update you on his condition. While on vacation, Darrin had an unfortunate fall that further injured his hip. (He was on crutches from a stress fracture in his upper thigh that occurred while training for a half marathon.)

"We were able to get medical care there, which included an x-ray that showed the top of the femur was broken. The doctors in the DR & Oakland agreed that surgery was needed. Weighing all the options & risks, we decided to return home ASAP for the surgery at Kaiser Oakland."

It was a lengthy text that gave us all the pertinent details. I barely skimmed the last couple of paragraphs before sitting down on a low wall & calling Patricia from the top of a mountain in Phuket. The sights on our tour were suddenly of no interest to me. Patricia answered immediately & told me Darrin was taken into surgery about half an hour ago. Allen had driven down to Oakland & they were waiting for word of the "open reduction surgery" results which entails putting a metal plate & pins or screws into the bone to stabilize it.

After talking extensively with both Patricia & Allen, I was soon able to breathe somewhat normally. They both said they would remain in contact with me almost as if I was sitting there with them - & they did. About an hour later I received this text, "Good news. Out of surgery with a plate & screw. Doctor very pleased. He is in recovery now. Will text when we can see him in about an hour." Sitting outside the Seashell Museum, I was immediately in tears. Knowing he was through the surgery was such a relief. Plus most of you know that I cry at those Folgers coffee commercials & pretty much every movie so this was not unexpected.

Our tour was wrapping up & I still hadn't heard that they had seen him yet. As we prepared to board the tender, I was getting antsy with no news, especially knowing that we would be at sea with no affordable communication for two days. This text arrived a short while later, "Heading up to see him now. Nurse said he's doing fantastic. He may be able to go home tomorrow." I took some deep breaths & boarded the tender thinking that it would be okay & I could enjoy the rest of our trip. 

Halfway back to the ship as the tender bounced slowly across the sea, my phone rang. I frantically dug it out of my purse & answered. It was Darrin! An hour out of surgery he wanted to reassure me that he was doing okay & I shouldn't worry - yeah, right. I fought the tears again as I was incredibly moved that my son was making sure that I was alright after he went through such an ordeal.

And maybe a little part of it was that he just wanted to hear his mom's voice. We talked for several minutes before hanging up with many "love you lots" & promises to call in every port. As I hung up, that's when the waterworks started again - right there in the middle of the tender with 200 other passengers. I didn't even bother to explain, just sniffled & wiped my tears. It really is unbelievably hard to be half a world away when you want to be there holding his hand with love & support. Thank God for the cheap international calls.

Follow up: He did leave the hospital the next day & his dad took him up to his place in Sonora where he & Marilyn took good care of him for two weeks. Allen brought him home yesterday for a follow up appointment which showed all is healing well. After being up for almost 48 hours as Lou & I traveled from Delhi, India to San Francisco these past two days, I absolutely had to make a stop in Hayward on our way home to hug my kid & see for myself that he is indeed okay. He is!

HIPS DON'T LIE - SO SAYS SHAKIRA

I just realized that I haven't updated everyone with the results of my orthopedic specialist appointment regarding my hip pain. Some of you already know the outcome but I know many of you are still in the dark.

I mentioned to the doctor that I was hoping to feel better for our big cruise vacation in April. He said he looked at my x-rays which did confirm the arthritis. He had me lay down, moved my leg around asking when it hurt & had me describe the pain. He announced that my hip was worn out & I would need hip replacement surgery. Then he just wanted to talk about travel.

What the fuck??? The LAST thing I was expecting to hear was that I need hip replacement! Honestly, it never entered my mind that would be the ultimate diagnosis. Never! I was just a little flabbergasted trying to wrap my head around the fact that I needed surgery where they would put big pieces of metal inside me. I thought I had bursitis or a pulled muscle.

Since I didn't even want to think about actually having the surgery at this point, the doctor recommended a cortisone shot into the joint a couple weeks before the trip then decide on the surgery later. I drove home in a bit of a blur with all sorts of things spinning around in my brain. Not the least of which was, "What the hell? I've never had major surgery. My body has never let me down like this. Shit, I really am old."

Over the next few weeks, I made it my mission in life to find out everything I could about hip replacement. I started by talking with everyone I knew who had hip replacement surgery. Countless hours were spent online researching the different techniques, the limitations, what the surgery entailed, etc. After reading the description of the surgery - the socket is replaced with a metal cup lined with plastic & the top of your thigh bone is sawed off before the spike with the ball is pounded into the bone - I was feeling pretty nauseous. Okay, deep breaths, Kath.

My personality is such that I need to know everything to expect. And the more I go over it, the more normal it sounds. It is hard to deal with at first but once I know the details, I feel better. Describing cutting through muscles & sawing off bones seems less freaky the more I talk about it. But I seriously doubt I'll watch the video of the actual surgery I found online.

One of my phone calls was to my dad's home physical therapist in the Bay Area. She was nothing short of a miracle worker for my dad when he literally could not roll over in bed several years ago. As she told me about the various types of surgery & the recovery times, she said if I was still in the Bay Area she had a great doctor to recommend. I said, please, recommend away. I'm totally open to driving a couple hours.

I met with Dr. Sah on February 21 in Fremont. Everything about his Institute for Joint Replacement is first class with state of the art surgical techniques. She was right, he is who I want doing my surgery. Prior to my appointment Lou & I drove into Fremont for a seminar that Dr. Sah was presenting on joint replacement. Both of us were impressed with him & his approach. He is that rare combination of excellent surgeon & compassionate, caring person. If anyone wants to check it out, here is his website: http://sahortho.com/

Now that I know more about x-rays, symptoms & what to expect I'm 99% sure that I do indeed need hip replacement surgery. I've been holding out hope that a miracle would occur making me suddenly feel fine again but that hasn't happened. The primary criteria seems to be when your pain is impacting your life, it is time to suck it up & have the surgery.

I will have the cortisone shot on March 19, spend a week with Charley for spring break & leave on our three week cruise to Singapore, Thailand, Sri Lanka, India, Oman & Dubai on April 4. If I survive the cruise relatively in tact, we will still do our previously planned trip to southern Texas in May. I'm not going to jeopardize any time with my Charley this summer recovering from hip surgery. Dr. Sah will schedule me for late July or early August when I can devote all my time & focus to healing.

Last week I received a full page handwritten letter from Dr. Sah thanking me for my visit & telling me he is looking forward to participating in my care. He ended by telling me to enjoy my trip to Singapore! I was impressed. I've never received a thank you letter from a doctor before, let alone a handwritten one!