7 Months

I remember Davis, Dr. Shukla’s assistant, telling me that 7 months was when I could expect to feel less pain and more strength in my right leg and hip. Turns out he was absolutely right! Just in the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed that I can contract my glutes and not get a jab of pain. This, of course, makes working the muscles much easier, so I’m gaining strength. I also notice that my energy is returning and I’m beginning to finally feel more myself. As extra bonuses, my flexibility and balance are improving. Yay! For the first time, I have hope that I can get used to the cable around my right femur and not have to have it surgically removed.

I think all these improvements in my right side and my energy have given me an emotional lift as well. Right now I can honestly say I’m ready for my next surgery. I didn’t feel that way a couple of weeks ago. After my last blog entry, I continued to struggle with ups and downs–going from confidence to despair on an emotional roller coaster. I tried to stay present with whatever I was feeling. I journaled and prayed a lot, talked to friends and family who listened, supported and consoled me. Something shifted on Easter Sunday, which made me smile. Resurrection Day–symbolic of the Light returning to the world and the beginning of spring and new growth.

Now I feel peaceful, calm and confident. I have faith this next surgery will be a success. I know what to expect now and how long the healing process for my body actually takes. I know how to support my healing process, what helps and what sets me back. I’m glad to be going into this one in the spring, so I can recover in the warmer and less stormy months. Recovering in winter was not easy. My Buttrometer was a definite pain in the behind with all the barometric pressure changes!

I am now only a month away from the replacement of my left hip. While that is still hard to imagine, it is not as daunting an idea as it was last month. I am so grateful for this shift.

For my fellow hip people, I wanted to share what I’ve been doing to prehab my left hip and continue to rehab my right hip, and deal with the increasing joint pain in my left hip:

  • I’m achy and stiff when I get up, so I do about 20-30 minutes of gentle yoga, Tai Chi and Qigong. This helps me loosen up. I do squats and some of the Foundation back exercises for strength and range of motion. With this routine, I haven’t had to take anything for pain in the morning. I also spend about an hour doing yogic breathwork and energy practices, praying, meditating, and reading spiritual texts.
  • During the day, I play Goldilocks. I seek the “just right” amount of sitting, standing, walking, stretching. Mostly, this means I don’t do any one thing for very long. I can sit the longest–up to 2 hours. But it helps if I get up every hour and walk and stretch. Standing is limited to 20-30 minutes. I can walk 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile, some days. Other days, a block is all I can manage. If I get the balance right, I don’t have to take anything for pain all day.
  • In the afternoon, I either swim laps for 30 minutes or do an hour of more intense yoga & Tai Chi, PT exercises to strengthen my hips and legs, pilates mat work for my abs/back, and free hand weights for my upper body. Before and after my swims, I spend about 15 minutes in the whirlpool. Great for loosening up and stretching my muscles.
  • In the evenings, I have a glass or two of wine and enjoy a nice dinner with Scott. Often times we include family and friends. We watch positive, uplifting shows or movies. We talk with each other and snuggle. It helps to feel loved and supported by the people around me and to stay to the positive and avoid the negative.
  • Towards avoiding the negative, I don’t expose myself to news, except for one brief look mid-day to be aware of the latest developments. Often, I then immediately turn it all over to Spirit and pray for what is in the Highest Good for us all.
  • I’ve been striving to eat nutritious, healthy food and to avoid overeating and gaining weight. I seem to have ups and downs with this, but that may be more related to menopause than my hip situation…
  • At night is when I have the most problems with pain. At bedtime, I take 2 ibuprofen, a dropper full of CBD oil that doesn’t have THC so it doesn’t get me high at all and is legal to obtain in all 50 states (here’s my source for 1000 mg full spectrum tincture: https://www.thecbdistillery.com/), and I rub CBD salve on both my hips. I’m finding I sleep 1-2 hours at a time before I have to change position. Sometimes I wake up achy in the middle of the night and I rub on more of the salve, usually this is enough to get me back to sleep. If I’m having a really bad night (only happens if I overdo it during the day), I take another 2 ibuprofen. I find the CBD oil has a very soothing, anti-anxiety effect and deepens my sleep. Scott tells me he has noticed a real difference in my sleep since I started taking it.

I’m guessing that I won’t be doing an 8 Month update, since my next surgery is on May 16th. I’ll plan to resume at 9 Months Right Hip/1 Month Left Hip sometime around mid-June. Wish me luck and keep me in your prayers!

Either/Or vs. Both/And

I was having a conversation with Mariellen, a fellow editor of WCTS?, about a piece of writing. She wanted to know if a suggestion I made was an either/or or both/and suggestion. I told her it was a both/and.

The next morning, while meditating, it occurred to me that I have spent much of my life in either/or thinking. The suggestion that came through in my meditation was, “Perhaps it would be better to spend more time in both/and thought and less time in either/or thought.”

I was immediately reminded of this diagram I used with clients when I was a therapist:

Most things in life are some play of opposites. Examples: black/white, love/hate, good/bad, male/female, joy/sorrow, stress/relaxation, peace/aggression, etc. When we get stuck in either/or thinking, we tend to end up in one opposite and either condemn or long for the other. For example, we might be focused on how stressed out we are and long for relaxation, or we might be so identified with our gender identity that we condemn the qualities of the other side.  In my own experience and observations, it seems to me that getting stuck in this kind of thinking is distressing. It divides us unnecessarily, both internally and externally. It can be useful, on a certain level of discernment, for us to examine the differences between states of mind & body, people, objects, and experiences. It helps us make skillful choices about where we want to be on the continuum. However, too much time spent in black and white thinking  causes us to miss that which unites opposites and robs us of balance and peace.

The secret is to rise above the play of opposites and see the balance which contains both. The bigger trick is to become the balance! We have every opposite within us. Life happens mostly in shades of gray along the continuum between opposites. Have you ever had a day that was entirely sad or entirely happy? If you watch any state of mind or feeling, you will notice it is always changing. Sometimes I can be crying and a few minutes later laughing. Just like my last couple of entries, I go from despair to peace and back again.  Yet, there is also a witnessing awareness that sees and holds all of it, that knows the real me exists beyond all opposites in a field of unity–the eye over the pyramid. When I can remember this, I get less caught up in black and white thinking and I’m automatically more open, tolerant, accepting, loving and peaceful.

Within all of us is the play of light and dark. It’s good to remember we can all be villains and heroes, sources of love and peace or hate and aggression. When I can remember this, I am more compassionate towards all of me and all of others.

I once created this mandala to illustrate this idea:

The caption reads: The play of light and dark is contained within a field of pure, loving awareness. The yin/yang symbolizes the play of the opposites. Within each opposite is the seed of the other side, represented by the black and white dots. This play of opposites exists within a field of pure, loving awareness.

Next time you catch yourself judging someone, try seeing yourself in them or seeing ways in which you are alike.  When you are stuck on one end of the continuum, try consciously shifting yourself towards the other side by experiencing the opposite. For example, if you are feeling sad, recall a time when you felt happy, feel it again in your body and heart. Notice what shifts. Playing on the continuum in these ways can lift your perspective and help you find balance.

Here are some examples of my either/or thoughts and how I play with shifting them to both/and:

  • It’s either perfect or it’s crap. My writing is a place where this one plays out all the time, but it can apply to anything I do. The both/and reframe: Parts of this are really good, most of it is mediocre, some of it is crap. Free from my rigid B&W assessment, I can then sift through a piece of writing, and decide what stays, what goes and what I can live with before I press the Publish button or send it to an editor.
  • We either agree 100% or we disagree 100%. The both/and reframe: There are things we mostly agree on, things we don’t really have an opinion about one way or another, and things we strongly disagree on. Most of it probably falls in the middle. With this reframe, I can calm my emotional intensity and seek common ground while having an exchange of differing opinions. I am more able to see when it is time to agree to disagree and move on to a neutral or agreeable topic. I’ve found this one particularly helpful in the current political climate!
  • You either love me totally or hate me totally. This either/or is the tyrant of many relationships, particularly of the romantic kind. For me it is fueled by my fear of abandonment. At its worst, it can cause me to either abandon myself to please another, or to pull back at the first sign of conflict and run for the door. The both/and reframe: You love some aspects of me, are neutral about most of me and hate some aspects of me. It is quite likely that none of this has anything to do with your love for me, which (hopefully) exists in the eye over the pyramid which sees all of me and loves me anyway! If this is not true, we probably need to have a look at our relationship…
  • I’m either pain free or I’m full of pain. Most days I have pain, so this either/or is particularly painful for me. The both/and reframe: Some parts of my body hurt, but most of it is pain free. Some parts hurt more than others and require some action on my part to alleviate my pain, like taking an ibuprofen or getting up to stretch and walk around. Most of the time, all that is needed is for me to notice the pain and be with it for a few minutes. During this time, I observe that it shifts and changes. The sensations are always moving like energy waves. I take time to notice all the places I don’t have pain (playing on the opposite side). Pretty soon the sensation of pain has calmed and I feel relief. The worst thing I can do is to close down around pain, fearing that it is taking all of me over. It never does that if I can pull up into that higher perspective of balance. I then notice there is a part of me that is beyond pain, that is one with that great field of pure, loving awareness.

I believe that who we truly are is beyond all form, thought, sensation, action. We are part of that field of pure, loving awareness. Maybe if we just remember that, all the rest of it will fall into place?

Hard Things Are Hard

I saw that quote in a book the other day and it’s stuck with me. Hard things are hard. Why do I I think if I were doing them right, hard things would be easy? As if it were some personal failing on my part that hard things are hard.

The quote above has a corollary that was one of my first yoga teacher’s favorite sayings: You can do hard things. So why do l always question if I can do something hard? Even after all I’ve been through in this life, I seem to wonder if I’ve got another one in me.

I have found that doing hard things has helped me develop character. I’ve learned to be persistent and focused, remain positive and hopeful, have compassion, be patient, think things through, trust in my resilience, have faith in Life and myself, and to always maintain a sense of humor.

As I face another hard thing, I’m grateful for all the previous hard things. They have been good teachers. Perhaps this time I can remain confident in my ability to do hard things and remain softly compassionate with myself, as I press on. After all, this too shall pass.  

Peace Returns

I always find it fascinating how quickly peace returns when I face and share the dark times. It was only yesterday that I was struggling with my altitude and now I seem to be cruising steadily again in calm air.

I want to thank all of you who have reached out to me with expressions of concern and comfort, or who have sent good energy and wishes my way. I know that helped a lot too.

This morning it occurred to me that it is as important to write about the return of peace today, as it was to write about the struggle of yesterday. Often, I forget how quickly this can happen if I am truly present to pain, both physical and emotional. Once the light of understanding and compassion shines on pain, it dissolves. It also helps to share it and not keep it inside where it festers and grows.

It reminds me of Theo seeking love. He MEOWS very loudly, letting me know he needs attention. Then he hops up into whatever I’m doing: sitting on the keyboard, circling the cutting board, plopping down near my plate. If I absently scratch an ear in an attempt to placate him, he meows again and pushes closer, insisting that I pay full attention. He will keep this up until I turn to him, place my forehead on his and scratch the sides of his face, pouring love and attention into him. Then he erupts in that lovely purrrr of his. He can handle this for about five minutes, after which he hops down and goes happily on with his day. My pain seems to also need that five minutes of complete and total attention and love, then it moves on.

Today I feel like a mountain lake after a thunderstorm, serene and still, perfectly reflecting the sky, and the peaks.

 

Struggling with my Altitude

I debated about writing this entry, but I believe it is important to share this part of Hip Adventures. We all have adventures of some kind, and struggling with maintaining altitude during the challenging times is part of all our life journeys.

I am mostly a positive, sunny person who looks on the bright side of situations, even the really bad ones. This has always helped me through the dark times. And I tend to only want to write about staying in the Light.

But sometimes it is important to share about being in the darkness, the despair, the discouragement, the pain, the sadness, the exhaustion. I am in this place now, where this whole situation feels heavy and I no longer feel strong enough to pick myself up and rise above it. It’s easy to tell myself a story about how this saga will never end and I will never walk and move effortlessly and pain-free again. I am so tired of the pain and the disability.

I recognize a lot of my sense of self has been wrapped around the strength and endurance of my physical body. Now that is slipping away. With the leaving, there is grieving. As much as I want to escape, it is important for me to be with this grief, with all these dark emotions. I have no more strength to run from the pain anymore. So I let it wash over me in waves–crying when I need to, asking for a hug when I need one, taking time for myself, talking to loved ones, petting Theo, and writing, which has always been one of my main outlets.

It’s an odd thing to discover that when I’m with pain, it passes through me like a wave. Then it dissipates and there is peace and calm. Then another wave comes, and goes. Who is it who watches all the comings and goings? The pain and the relief? The sadness and the joy?

As my physical self fades, the Spirit that animates it grows stronger. My awareness of this Spirit  within me grows. It is eternal and always filled with peace and a quiet joy. This is the great discovery of turning to face the darkness, of allowing the altitude to dip beneath the clouds. The great tapestry of Life is woven of both the light and the darkness. Without the contrast, we would not be able to experience it all.

If I allow myself to settle deep within, I can feel myself at One with Everything. Here there is no pain and it is all ok. It seems I must be willing to go down into the clouds and fall into the Sea to be one with Spirit. Here there is boundless love and endless peace, and I can rest and heal. Then, when it is time, I will break the surface and fly up and out again, chasing the sun.

I love to fly near the sun. But, that is only one aspect of Life. No one gets to always fly near the sun, ask Icarus. However, I’m not sure that he really drowned in the ocean when he fell out of the sky. I like to think he found his true depths in the Ocean of Being and then learned to fly free through it all.

6 months

Today is the six-month anniversary of my first hip replacement. Two weeks ago I visited with my surgeon to discuss my next hip replacement. I guess this is my year to get a new set of wheels…

Here are the xrays, on the left my hips on March 8th, on the right my hips on October 6th:

  

The joint space has narrowed in the last 5 months, particularly on the lower, back side. This is what I feel, and hear, when I move and now when I sit and lie down. When I described what’s happening now, the only question Dr. Shukla and Davis (his assistant) had was, “When would you like to schedule surgery?” I picked May 16th, 8 months from my first surgery.

I am still having problems with the muscles in my right hip, mostly in the area that is over the knot on the end of the cable that surrounds my femur. Dr. Shukla says that the irritation could be caused by the cable and we can consider removing it later if the problems continue. He did warn me that if my left femur looks anything like my right, he will have to cable it. We both agree it would be great if he didn’t have to, then there would be a basis of comparison between the two sides. I guess we will see what happens. I trust his judgment.

I am grateful that they told me the second hip could take the fast track after the first one was replaced. Though I was hoping it would last longer, I was at least prepared that it might not. But, I still feel like I’m in shock and trying to wrap myself around this whole unfolding scenario.

I’m in a better place with it all two weeks after the appointment. I can see all the benefits to going ahead with it, though I dread doing this so soon after the last one. The reality is that I am afraid to walk very much now and this is not helpful for my right hip, which really needs to be strengthened. I do what I can in the pool, and with yoga and Tai Chi. But that isn’t getting me any closer to my goal of being able to walk and stand at least enough to live a more normal life.

So, now I am doing my best to psych myself up for this. Trying to stay focused on all the positives is helpful, and knowing I have such a wonderful community of friends, family and neighbors who are here for me. I am confident it will go well, though I am prepared for a long rehabilitation. Now I will be rehabbing two hips, but at least they will be strong, balanced and correctly attached to my body. Finally having a solid foundation under me is something I look forward to! I’m curious about how that will feel and how the rehab may be different when I’m no longer wonky.

Lately, I’ve reflected on the bigger picture surrounding the events of this year. I know that I am in the midst of a major transformation of my life, not just my butt… I am entering a new phase, hopefully with more compassion, patience, tolerance and wisdom. I am realigning the deeper parts of myself, creating a firm foundation within and without. I guess what I’m trying to say is I know it isn’t just about my hips, but about my whole being, my whole life. I will never be the same after this year. And that is not a bad thing.

I can already feel the softening, the slowing down, taking hold of me. I don’t want it to let go as I heal physically. I won’t let it go. For me, life has always been a race to get things done, to reach goals, to make plans for the future, to run away from the pain of the past or the anxiety of the present. This experience has literally sat me down, forced me to get and stay quiet. I’m finding that I love the peace of stillness and silence. There is no place to go out there, nothing to do, just be here and now in this moment. Though I have understood this intellectually and pursued it in meditation for the last 27 years, it’s only now that I am experiencing it more and more. And I want more! More of less. These old hips have been a godsend.

My First Quaker Meeting

I’ve been writing for a Quaker newsletter called What Canst Thou Say?  (WCTS?) for about twelve years now. One particular editor, Mariellen, has kept me in the query loop all these years after we were connected by the death of a mutual friend, who also wrote for WCTS?.  This newsletter is a place for Quakers to share their mystical experiences and the insights which have come from their contemplative practice. Reading their essays and poems have helped me understand some of my own experiences, and to feel less alone and strange! There is an honest poignancy to their writing, which speaks candidly of the light and dark, blissful and tragic, mundane and sublime that lives in us all. Here is the website if you wish to check it out: http://whatcanstthousay.org.

As my hips fell out from under me, much of my world also changed. I found myself home and sitting much more than I was ever inclined, or allowed, to do before. I felt irresistibly drawn to the writings of mystics and contemplatives, discovering a number of books on my own shelves thanks to my friend who passed and left them to me those twelve years ago. I again recognized some of my own experiences and realizations in their stories, just like I had on the pages of WCTS?.

Some time before my first hip replacement, I had a transformational experience related to a past life and I wrote an essay about it. Mariellen asked if I would be willing to Guest Edit an edition of WCTS? on “Other Lives.” I agreed to do so. More related experiences happened around my surgery and I added to the story. Now I am in the final editing process of that newsletter. It has been a beautiful process where everyone works to come to consensus about what is included and how it is edited. Editing is done gently, with reverence and respect for the offerings of each author. Here is a PDF of my essay:

My Sister, MySelf

Simultaneously, I was reading editor, Mike Resman’s book Immersed in Prayer (available on Amazon). Many of the authors in the book spoke about their experiences during silent meetings for worship. The desire grew in me to experience a meeting for myself. I remember getting online and discovering a Quaker Meeting House only two miles from our home http://renofriends.org.  I had to LOL while reading their page on “Wonder If You Might Be A Quaker At Heart?” This past Sunday, I decided it was time to go.

Quakers believe that we all have the living spirit of the Creator within us. They seek to be quiet and listen to the “still small voice within.” When they feel moved to do so, they speak from this place. The Reno Friends (another name for Quakers) meets for silent worship from 10:00-11:00 on Sundays. Inside the cozy, brick house, chairs are set up in two concentric circles in a large, well-lit living room. You pick your spot and sit quietly, allowing yourself to settle and center, to be receptive to that “still small voice” and to anything Spirit might wish to impart. In my own experience, it is most like sitting in a meditation circle or group. Sometimes people speak; sometimes there is only silence, punctuated by the breath and stirrings of those in attendance. During my first meeting, no one spoke. I recall thinking how refreshing it was to come and simply listen, to wait expectantly and be still, not needing to say anything.

When the Clerk ended the meeting, we were again invited to speak and again we chose silence. Then the peace was passed to those near us–touching hands and smiling into each other’s eyes. Announcements came next. Some people left. Others stayed to talk, and to find out who I was and how I came to be there. So, I told them this story.

Here is some of what I wrote in my journal afterwards:

I forget the sweet depth I can enter when sitting in circle silently with others. The restlessness settles and my mind quiets. There were 8 of us–a small group. I sat between a mother and her son. Later, I discovered they are neighbors of mine, only two blocks away. Being here feels like coming home. Coming home to something that was always within me and has been pursuing me for 12 years now. Finally, I have turned around to embrace it. I can’t shake the strong sense of having been here before, like being wrapped in an old, familiar quilt from childhood.

5 Months

I had a good couple of weeks after my last entry. I made it up to a mile on my walks. Scott went with me once and I was able to keep up with him, something I hadn’t been able to do in a long time. My yoga practice got stronger. Pain levels stayed down and my hope soared for a good summer with some hiking in the mountains.

And then it changed again. I started having more pain in the left hip. It would be two good days, one bad day, a good day, two bad days. Very up and down, unpredictable. The pain in Lefty is different–sharper, more insistent and more resistant to pain relief. I started to have some nights when, even after 2 doses of ibuprofen, I was still aching and unable to sleep. The left hip began to give out on occasion, which didn’t happen until later in the process with Righty. Lefty continues to get noisier–lots of clicking and clacking when the joint moves in certain ways. Righty was always silent, never letting on about the severe damage inside the joint, which was why none of us ever suspected severe arthritis.

During my last massage, my therapist noticed that the right hip was much better than the left for the first time. The joint and surrounding muscles on the left were all tight and painful, very similar to how they had been with my right hip prior to surgery.

I decided that I would see how our February 20-23 trip to Las Vegas went, with all the walking. If it went badly, I’d call my surgeon. I just returned from this trip (fun adventure with all our elders along for the experience).

On the first day, Scott and I walked from the Bellagio to New York New York and back, about 2 miles. It was the longest trek I’d made since the surgery, and I wanted to see how I would do. Turns out the 2 mile jaunt after walking in the airports and in the Bellagio (where we stayed) was way too much. The muscles in my right hip got tight and fatigued and I kept having to stop, stretch them out and rest (thank goodness for all the chairs in front of slot machines in Vegas!). And my left hip was very unhappy. Once we got back to the Bellagio and I could rest, my right hip released and the pain went away. But the left hip just kept aching, all the way through the night and into the next day, despite two doses of ibuprofen.

After that, I didn’t walk as much, often opting to hang out with my 92-year-old father-in-law who is more my speed! Now that I’m home, the right hip feels like it is getting better and stronger all the time. But, my left hip remains achy. I’m beginning not to trust it to hold me up, and my stride is again shrinking. So, I’m penguin waddling a lot. This is not helpful for rehabbing my right hip, which really needs to be walking more now.

I had to laugh when I found this cartoon in the senior magazine I was reading this morning, advising walking like a penguin in order to stop winter falls! Well, at least I’m reducing my fall risk…Image result

I’ve got to say this little face captures how I feel, only I’d add some tears rolling down the cheeks. I took another spin on the “releasing expectations” wheel and am trying to wrap my head around this. Yesterday, I called my surgeon and made an appointment to see him in March to discuss the replacement of my left hip. It is hard to even write that sentence, but I did promise that I wouldn’t sink into denial and let this one go so long, and I intend to keep that promise. I’m hoping the recovery will be better as a result.

I remember being so hopeful at the four-month mark that I would get a reprieve from another surgery for the summer. I am so bummed about losing another summer of camping and hiking. I was really looking forward to that. But, I have had the joy of many summers in the high country and I believe there will be many more once this ordeal is behind me. I continue to be thankful this is all fixable, and there are definite benefits to doing it sooner vs. later.

So now it’s time to face reality, dig deep and fan the flames of my positive attitude.

Is this how freedom dies in America?

President Trump made this remark during a speech in Ohio yesterday:

“You’re up there, you’ve got half the room going totally crazy — wild, they loved everything, they want to do something great for our country,” Trump said. “And you have the other side — even on positive news, really positive news like that — they were like death. And un-American. Un-American. Somebody said, ‘treasonous.’ I mean, yeah, I guess, why not? Can we call that treason? Why not! I mean they certainly didn’t seem to love our country very much.”

The First Amendment of the United States of America states:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Our forefathers believed these rights were important enough to their new democracy that they placed them first on the Bill of Rights. What is happening in America when our President essentially makes a statement indicating that if you do not applaud him, you could be considered guilty of treason?

What is the punishment for treason in the United States?

Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States. (June 25, 1948, ch. 645, 62 Stat. 807; Pub. L. 103–322, title XXXIII, § 330016(2)(J), Sept. 13, 1994, 108 Stat. 2148.)

Today the White House spokesman said President Trump was joking. This is not something the supposed “leader of the free world” jokes about. It seems he’s fishing to see what our response will be. Who will support him in making, and possibly, enforcing this kind of outrageous accusation? If we show support, then it could solve all his problems with the Democratic party (and democracy) in one fell swoop. Freedom in America dies and another authoritarian dictator rises.

If you care about freedom in America, now is a good time to speak up.

~~~

I was pleased to learn that the Reno Gazette Journal chose to publish this piece on their Opinion page. I was also heartened to see they included footage of Republican Senator, Jeff Flake’s response to Trump’s comments.  Opinion Published in Reno Gazette Journal.

4 Months

Yesterday marked the 4-month anniversary of my right hip replacement. My Physical Therapist had told me that I would probably see a big difference at 4 months, and I’m happy to say she was right!

In the last couple of weeks, I have experienced a big shift. I am stronger and my muscles have less pain after I use them for walking or standing, unless I over do it. I’m hardly using ibuprofen anymore. The scar is looking really good, so I’ve decided to change my daily massages with vitamin E oil to weekly. It feels like the internal scar tissue is also softening and healing, so my range of motion is better and there is less grinding around in there. My massage therapist says it feels much better to her too, and that is validating.

I was able to take a few 3/4-mile walks this week with no ill effects. It’s been 8 months since I’ve been able to do that. I can do side leg lifts, including the clam now, which I was unable to do at 3 months. Stairs are getting better all the time, but remain my biggest challenge. Tai Chi and Yoga are easier and less painful. I can do balance poses like Tree more easily and hold them for longer. Dancer is slowly coming back, but I can’t lean forward very far just yet. I’m stronger in my lunges and bent-knee poses, and the pain is less. I’m still loving my time in the pool the most and I suspect that will continue.

To celebrate my new level of healing, I went out and bought really good hiking poles at REI. I am hopeful that I’ll be able to do some hiking in the warmer months this year.

Leftie is still trying to decide what she thinks about all this. She is sore after too much walking or standing, but she is stable, maybe even a little better than last month. I am hoping she will hang on for me at least through the summer. I am so not ready to do this again.

I realize how much it’s taken out of me. My energy levels are still lower than my normal and I can only do so much in one day. I am getting better at accepting and surrendering to this reality and pacing myself accordingly. I believe this is the biggest part of my healing-honoring where I am and not pushing it. It’s good for me to learn this, though sometimes it is a hard teacher.

I sit and relax more than I ever have. I am better at asking for, and graciously receiving, help from others. And I am very grateful for all the kindness and support that surrounds me.

Today I moved out of my studio where I used to teach Yoga and Tai Chi. I haven’t done that since last spring and I still don’t feel ready to teach again. I also realized that the desire to have a studio and teach on any kind of schedule has left me. It feels like I am entering a new, more spontaneous stage. I can see doing these practices in the park behind our home when I am so inspired and inviting others to join in. But that feels like it may be a ways off yet. Teaching helped me both to deepen my own practice and to help others with theirs. I’m grateful for the time I was able to teach over the last 8 years. I’m enjoying my yoga room in our back bedroom and I do Tai Chi to wake my body up every morning.

Now we will see how my life unfolds from here. I’m enjoying more reading and writing time, and time to just be with Scott, family, friends, and myself. Perhaps, that is really what this whole Hip Adventure is all about…