Cracking read that, gives a good insight in to the time line of a hip replacement.
Sorry Wheelnut I didn’t mean to offend. After reading your post below I’ve deleted my comment as it seemed inappropriate when I learned your med. history.
Rob K:
(dunno how I missed this thread before).
Me either, nice looking place to have the op, glad its all gone well for you.
puntabrava:
Rob K:
(dunno how I missed this thread before).Me either, nice looking place to have the op, glad its all gone well for you.
It looks a lovely place, most of the fittings are hung off the wall, the TV’s don’t work and car parking is horrendous 
Three years now since I had the op, the hip joints are doing OK, still get pain and I struggle to sleep for long, but I was born with this condition and my bones are slowly crumbling away, eventually the chassis will break but the motor will be OK.
One thing that does ■■■■ me off is the amount of painkillers I need, they tend to ■■■■ me out and I get a bit grumpy with the nearest and dearest.
Wheel Nut:
puntabrava:
Rob K:
(dunno how I missed this thread before).Me either, nice looking place to have the op, glad its all gone well for you.
One thing that does ■■■■ me off is the amount of painkillers I need, they tend to ■■■■ me out and I get a bit grumpy with the nearest and dearest.
A trainee scouser then.
That’s quite some operation you had done 
best wishes for a speedy recovery 
bonnie lass:
That’s quite some operation you had done
Thanks, but the speed has slowed to a crawl, the hips work, just there is not much to fasten them to or indeed to hold them apart. Coxa Magna it is called.
The syndrome is a form of osteochondritis of the hip joint, where growth/loss of bone mass leads to some degree of collapse of the hip joint and to deformity of the ball of the femur and sometimes the surface of the hip socket. It is characterized by idiopathic avascular osteonecrosis of the capital femoral epiphysis of the femoral head leading to an interruption of the blood supply of the head of the femur close to the hip joint. The disease is typically found in young children, and it can lead to osteoarthritis in adults. The effects of the condition can sometimes continue into adulthood. It is also known as Perthes Disease, Legg—Perthes Disease, or Legg—Calve-Perthes Disease
My parents discovered I had this when i was about 3 years old. I am 55 next and have been in pain most of that time. However, mustn’t grumble!
Wheel Nut:
bonnie lass:
That’s quite some operation you had doneThanks, but the speed has slowed to a crawl, the hips work, just there is not much to fasten them to or indeed to hold them apart. Coxa Magna it is called.
The syndrome is a form of osteochondritis of the hip joint, where growth/loss of bone mass leads to some degree of collapse of the hip joint and to deformity of the ball of the femur and sometimes the surface of the hip socket. It is characterized by idiopathic avascular osteonecrosis of the capital femoral epiphysis of the femoral head leading to an interruption of the blood supply of the head of the femur close to the hip joint. The disease is typically found in young children, and it can lead to osteoarthritis in adults. The effects of the condition can sometimes continue into adulthood. It is also known as Perthes Disease, Legg—Perthes Disease, or Legg—Calve-Perthes Disease
My parents discovered I had this when i was about 3 years old. I am 55 next and have been in pain most of that time. However, mustn’t grumble!
I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that before, it sounds awful. Will this operation last many years now? I hope the continuous pain you ve had previously will dissolve somewhat, I know what living with ongoing continuous pain is like , At least you are on the mend now ,its amazing what modern methods in the medical world can do
Derby Royal
Day One.
The day had arrived and I was finally on my way to the Hospital for another Total Hip Replacement. With trepidation and a lot of pain I woke up at about 04.30 and managed to get in the shower. The instructions were to not have a meal after 12.30 am and no milky drinks after 03.30. So a cold glass of tap water after brushing my teeth and a final check of my going away bag. 30 years experience of the continent had taught me how to pack quickly, a wash bag with money in it, a few pants and t shirts and the all important ipod. I wore a baggy pair of trackies and a pair of Velcro trainers, no need to be fashion conscious as I was going to spend up to 2 days on a gurney with my arse on full view to a cosmopolitan workforce. My mate picked me up at 06.30 and we were in the reception with 15 minutes to kick off. I enquired whether I have to register and as the security guard didn’t speak English carried on with him trying to pass me informational leaflets in Indian, Urdu and Polish. From this point on the similarity to an RDC struck me more than once. My appointment was 7.00 and as I got to the lift there were about 20 others waiting, we pushed in, breathed in, squeezed the bags in and then someone asked which floor we were going, level 2 was the unanimous reply so a very frail old lady was appointed lift operator as she could squeeze into the corner. Unfortunately she couldn’t see the button and a rather larger lady had to assist. Groaning and creaking the lift stopped on the 2nd floor and we fell out onto the ward corridor. The door was locked and we began making acquaintances and guessing who was having what done, who by and lots of suitable oohs and ahhs as we relived the pain, several of us had experienced surgery in the past and I was proud to relive my tale, oh yes, instant relief, up and about next day, the newbies never believe this and compare it to silly old fools talking about haulage before speed limiters, tachographs and tautliners. Oh aye I once walked over‘t Blanc in 19’’ packed ice to t’ little garage at top to buy some snow chains cos they were cheaper than the ones Jon Darm woz trying to make me buy from his brother in laws garage. I only had a t shirt and a walking stick I had whittled out of a bit of keruing plank whilst weekended.
Eventually the doors opened and we were wheeled, pushed, hobbled and generally cajoled into a reception area. Papers Papers?? Name. Date of Birth. What are you having done today? This seemed a worrying question but it was the first of many double checks, name, DOB, what, when where etc cropped up more and more over the next few hours. Occasionally Hi Viz Clad porters appeared with empty trolleys and threw some open arsed clothing at people, it seemed huge fun to them to guess 2 sizes down then was ever going to be reasonably modest attire. Eventually my call came 7 hours after entering the establishment. When was your last meal? Yesterday evening I truthfully replied. In fact my stomach thinks my throat has been cut. Don’t worry, soon be over, they will do breakfast in the morning, if you survive the op they cheerily suggest. DOB Name, what are we doing for you, by now it was a little close to comfort to still have any doubts on the position of the soon to be operated leg. Left Hip — DOB — Malc or Malcolm? Now I had a ■■■■■■■■■ arrow drawn on my left thigh and asked to sign that it was the correct leg. I signed, he explained it was just in case you faint when we take you through the next doors and we can be sure we know what to do with you. Very reassuring I whispered falteringly.
I am trundled off down this corridor and into a very well used side ward, the doors are quite scuffed and it looks like very organized chaos. Inside it is a hive of activity with blood pressure monitors, oxygen gauges , drips and tablets. I had been on this trolley now for about an hour and it was fairly comfy, but now they were putting me on a sterilised one to prevent cross infection and it had more bells and whistles and flashing lights. It sort of resembled a blinged up Volvo with velour curtains after delivering the load with a fleet spec DAF CF. The anaesthetic dude was measuring and testing a few bits of equipment and eventually came over to explain his job. He would give me a spinal block and a sedative if I required one. I preferred to stay awake for this operation as the last time I was unconscious for 9 hours and it makes you feel so drowsy for about 3 days. So a simple injection in my back and the operation should be over soon. I took notice of the clock as I went through the doors and it was now 16.15. They clamped both arms to a overhead bar and fitted a drain to my bladder, “weird sensation” I was in the most awkward position imaginable as he said you will only feel a small scratch then it will feel like your toes are in warm water. Another nice feeling I remember. A bit like Christopher Reeve must have had on a good day. Then as the theatre door opened a lot of familiar faces greeted me, the 2 consultants who had decided the surgery should take place, the nurse who had done my pre assessment test, the ward receptionist and one of the porters from this morning. Apparently there was a barber, a dentist and a chiropodist in the room too as well as a nutritionist and a physiotherapy student. It all seemed very friendly like walking into a busy staff canteen at shift change. Are you staying with us Malc or having a sleep? I will stay with you to watch I replied. I need to be up and about next weekend as there is a beer festival. No problem, if we look sharp you should get a fish & chip supper or a pizza tonight.
“Scalpel!
The actual performance is a bit of a blur but I was lucid enough to hear friendly banter and jokes but they fit screens between me and my arse to prevent me seeing the incision, the stihl saw or the angle grinder, but mainly to prevent my fainting from the sight of my own blood. I was so relaxed I just fell asleep and woke up in another room at about 18.30. They had worked out my Yorkshire origins and passed me 500ml of Harrogate Spring Water and I drank it all. It was instantly recycled into a bottle clipped to my bed as a mustard coloured liquid with lumps in it. The next one was much clearer and my mouth felt a bit fresher. 15 hours without a drink at all. 24 hours since my last meal.
Three final questions. Name, Date of Birth and what did you come into hospital for? Malc, DOB and to have my left hip replaced. Good he said, that is what we did. Can you wiggle your toes? Yes, but I am struggling to raise my legs to get comfortable… “Ooops. Sorry Mate, I have left the spanset on as he unclipped me from the trolley.
The next short journey was to the post op recovery where I was given my spectacles and asthma inhaler. Here I was shown how to use my pain relief. We have given you 50ml of liquid morphine for personal use. Cool I replied, “if you press the button, it will give you a shot. I kept pressing it even though there was absolutely no pain in my legs, back or even knees.
Exactly 15 hours after walking into the Royal Derby Hospital I was wheeled into my last ward of the day, another temporary ward until my blood pressure was stable. For the first time in over 50 years the doctor was not concerned about high blood pressure. Today it was low as were my oxygen levels. One of the nurses brought me a telephone and it was my friend calling to see if I was going out for a pint. I declined saying I was staying in with a bottle of Morphine. I might get that Pizza yet.
At 10.30 the nurse brought me my own tablets back, statins, paracetamol and aspirin; I bet you would love a nice cup of tea duck? Yes please and can I have a few biscuits. I am starving. She brought me a lovely cup of tea and as I sipped from it. I promptly vomited all over her face and uniform. It was like a scene from The Exorcist, not helped by the fact I had tried to hold it back with my hand which just spread it further and it was then that I met my new hospital neighbour. A Mr Singh who was sick, actually he was Sikh. Anyway a Friday night spent lying in a comfortable bed doing Class A drugs with a pretty girl giving me a bed bath. Life doesn’t get much better than this.
Day Two.
At 5.30 on Saturday morning all is forgotten. I haven’t had to worry about the toilet because of my inbuilt toilet bag but someone wants to measure our combined blood pressures, temperature and oxygen levels. I submit to their request and they then decided to bath me again. I wasn’t allowed near water for such a long period and now they are trying to drown me. Apparently Morphine and Milk do not mix very well, hence the reason for the sickness. My medical records require me to have a pair of inflatable boots that inflate and deflate using a small compressor attached by four rubber hoses. I have a saline drip on a pole, a PCA Morphine pump and a blood test point into my left wrist. I have an oxygen clip with a bottle attached to my bed. The bright idea is to get me out of bed to let me have breakfast. Now although I haven’t been in much pain I haven’t been running around the hospital much so not needing much pain relief. However due to the team effort to fit me into some TED socks which stop blood clots forming and the need to keep my limb safe the staff gather round to assist.
Due to several language difficulties, the drip is pulled out; the infuser breaks off in my skin and the oxygen pipe start to leak. But at least I am sat up in my high chair, about 24 hours after admission with a new titanium on ceramic hip joint and a full bottle of morphine. A doctor is called to replace the drug infuser and they decide to take a blood test from my other arm. Due to my low blood pressure, they cannot find a place, as the test point on the other arm is missing they decide to wait. We wait. I order breakfast. Weetabix and black coffee because of the sickness. I get Weetabix with sugar and cold water because my notes mention last night’s problem with milk.
By Saturday afternoon I have my first visitors, first question was have you had your hair died? No I suggested thinking it was a strange question. It turned out that I was so pale my brown hair looked almost black. My skin was doing a fair impression of Stan Laurels. A doctor eventually turned up and I got my morphine pump back and was eventually able to eat something properly. Physio had me up and about twice that day. I had not felt so good for about 10 years, well since my last arthroplasty and the movement is quite good.
More visitors but before that I ordered my tea. I fancied something light and tasty, a Spanish Omelette perhaps, what I got looked like Christmas lunch leftovers with a broken egg on top. I blame the TV Chefs. Visiting time over, tea shoved around my plate to resemble interest and another nurse handover. I am being transferred into a departure ward. A worrying description! One advantage of the Foley catheter is that you can just keep drinking water and play a game with the nurses; they have to estimate how much your body is using, how much you drunk or how much you spill or how much is in the bag beneath the bed. The downside of this is that they have the authority to make you suffer and suffer they will make you, as the decision was taken to remove the device. Depending on how flippant you have been depends on their attitude later. Gently slide the tube smoothly through the urethral tube or stretch the pipe to its limit while leaving the balloon inflated (ouch)
I had a buzzer for a bottle a cradle for a crap and a pump for my pleasure to relieve pain. My mate visited me and he was trying to make me overdose but the PCA only works on a timed cycle so you cannot have too much but he did make me act quite strangely. By the end of the evening I was invincible, he was laid on my bed asking the nurse to bring him things and if there was any other fit nurses like her on the department. All I could do was laugh through a morphine induced haze. I must have drank a lot of water because that evening after lights out I needed a bottle, then another and then another. The last one sprung a leak. It was this evening that I disconnected myself from my oxygen, morphine and room service bell and in future went to the toilet with an invalid frame a gritted look through clenched teeth.
In the departure ward there was a chap who shared my Christian names and initials who when awake was an interesting man. When he slept he snored, when he snored he rattled and so did everything else in the ward. My other near neighbour Bryan got out of bed and disappeared and he returned at breakfast the next day. When I asked him he said Malc has snored like that for a week and I take a book into the nurse’s canteen and sleep up there. I joked I would probably join him tonight.
Day Three.
After breakfast I was reunited with the Sikh Mr Singh and his family of about 35. Bryan was discharged and that started at 9.30 am, at 15.30 he got his delivery notes back with a big bag of prescription drugs as a leaving present. I spent all day bullying physiotherapists and occupational health therapists. I had to demonstrate how I would shower, cook a cup of tea and manage stairs. I even managed to demonstrate an oriental meal for one when I found a pot noodle in the assessment kitchen. Derby is a modern Hospital with long corridors and lifts everywhere, but not many stairs. So they brought a wheel chair to take me to a stairwell. The wheelchair was missing its footrests so I had to balance my newly operated hip with it skimming the floor and in absolute agony. I had refused to do any more work with a walking frame and would only use wrist crutches. After doing the stairs up and down twice I said I am walking back to the ward.
That evening I suffered but took extra painkillers and asked for ear plugs and sleeping pills. I had the best night sleep for many years, no pain, no snoring, and disturbed once for an oxygen/ blood pressure check at 1am and at 5am I woke up like someone had switched a light on. Mr Singh had slept well, Malc and I had both slept soundly and the nurses had never had a peep from our room. It turns out that when I complained of the previous snoring and asked for sleeping pills the nurse gave them to everyone on the ward.
Day Four.
During yesterday mornings ablution my consultant had visited but because my cohorts had told him I was in the shower he didn’t bother waiting around. So I was determined not to miss him today as I wanted to go home. I had been in four nights and didn’t want a fifth night. So I refused a shower and had a bowl at the bedside. I ate breakfast and waited and waited mentioning to anyone who would listen I was going home. A nurse convinced me to order lunch anyway as I could take it with me. The discharge system works by smiley face stickers and if you get 3 from the Consultant, Physio Department and OT the pharmacy will prepare your lucky bag and the receptionist prepares the discharge notes automatically.
Unbeknown to me my first smiley face was already issued when the Consultant discovered I was in the shower alone within 4 days of admission. The Physio Terrorist said I had to undergo an assessment on stairs and doors while the OT needed to check me raising myself alone from the bed and getting back on it without damaging the surgery.
I got the Physio team down again and they checked my notes. They said the guy who took me to the stairs wasn’t qualified to assess me although he knew his job. I said well the fact that I went there, up and down the stairs and walked back to the ward should be enough, they agreed. The OT agreed when she read the notes and realised I had been showering alone for 2 days and helping the Sikh Mr Sing with making room for all his family by offering my high chair and visitor chairs while I waited on the bed.
3 smiley stickers issued, a discharge note and a bag of Codeine Phosphate, Paracetamol and spare dressings. I am outa here, with a Tuna sandwich wrapped in cling film for lunch. It just coincided with the local pub opening as we entered the village where I live so with 5 days Morphine Codeine Phosphate and low blood oxygen levels, 4 pints of Marston’s pedigree wasn’t a problem as I could now fly. 
More about living at home with my disability aids to follow.
A good read Wheel Nut
Glad you are sorted out and home safe and feeling better, take good care of yourself and take it easy on your new hip. 
A nice insight into the NHS, there 
Here’s wishing you a speedy recovery, Malc.
Take care, all the best
Great read Malc, all the best for your recovery and looking forward to more reports on your progress.
Hats off to you mate, don’t think many of us could go through that and still have a sense of humour! All the best…
Hi Malc,
Blimey, that was some ordeal mate.
I’ve had a few OPs in my time, but yours is certainly on a different level to any that I’ve had. RESPECT.
Your sense of humour seems to be in fine fettle, so now we know that’s in the bag, your recovery should be a piece of cake. A piece of pie didn’t look quite right when I wrote it there, probably cos just a piece is no good on its own cos pies should be eaten whole, or even two at a time.
Talking of food…
Will you be up and about and able to go out in W/C 26/4■■ cos I’m down your way again that week.
dieseldave:
A piece of pie didn’t look quite right when I wrote it there, probably cos just a piece is no good on its own cos pies should be eaten whole, or even two at a time.
Have you noticed the first three words of **pie**ce
Will you be going to Truckfest Dave?
dieseldave:
Hi Malc,
I’ve had a few OPs in my time, but yours is certainly on a different level to any that I’ve had. RESPECT.
Your sense of humour seems to be in fine fettle, so now we know that’s in the bag, your recovery should be a piece of cake. A piece of pie didn’t look quite right when I wrote it there, probably cos just a piece is no good on its own cos pies should be eaten whole, or even two at a time.
Talking of food…
Will you be up and about and able to go out in W/C 26/4■■ cos I’m down your way again that week.
Cheers Dave.
WC 26/4 sounds fine. I have just been for a pint so should manage well in another 3 weeks. Either a day in class or a bite in a normal eating house.
I will send you a link to your email about a good honest home cooked food pub serving, pies peas, gravy and chips with apple pie and lumpy custard
A good read there mr wheelnut, made me laugh out loud in places.
DAF95XF:
dieseldave:
A piece of pie didn’t look quite right when I wrote it there, probably cos just a piece is no good on its own cos pies should be eaten whole, or even two at a time.Have you noticed the first three words of **pie**ce
Will you be going to Truckfest Dave?
Hi Stu, Pies (whole) are far preferable to ‘pieces.’ 
As for Truckfest, I’d say it’s very (very) unlikely, cos I have pre-booked teaching commitments in the week before and the week immediately following Truckfest. 
While you lot are enjoying Truckfest, I’ll be carting my equipment from one classroom to another (30 miles) and setting up, then I’ll be at home doing laundry, other chores and walking the cat.
Wheel Nut:
dieseldave:
Hi Malc,
I’ve had a few OPs in my time, but yours is certainly on a different level to any that I’ve had. RESPECT.
Your sense of humour seems to be in fine fettle, so now we know that’s in the bag, your recovery should be a piece of cake. A piece of pie didn’t look quite right when I wrote it there, probably cos just a piece is no good on its own cos pies should be eaten whole, or even two at a time.
Talking of food…
Will you be up and about and able to go out in W/C 26/4■■ cos I’m down your way again that week.
Wheel Nut:
Cheers Dave.
WC 26/4 sounds fine. I have just been for a pint so should manage well in another 3 weeks. Either a day in class or a bite in a normal eating house.
I’ll let you know about the day in class, but you’re defo on for a bite to eat.
Wheel Nut:
I will send you a link to your email about a good honest home cooked food pub serving, pies peas, gravy and chips with apple pie and lumpy custard
Received.
I noticed that they do pies, then I’ll be checking out the lumpy custard Whoo-hoo!!
Expect you are best pleased that your training for the Olympics can resume…
Hope you are feeling on top form soon