One Woman’s Journey: A Hip Replacement Saga
October 31, 2016
Had my first trial by fire at my cousin Walter’s wedding this past weekend. I donned a black sheath dress with a black and gold jacket and my favorite pair of two-inch heel pumps. I felt I looked sophisticated and beautiful. The family said I looked good and coming from this group . . . that’s a real compliment.
Two hours into the event, I am still feeling pretty good. No foot or hip pain. Walter’s wedding was absolutely gorgeous and filled with all the sentiments a wedding day is supposed to invoke. I have never seen him happier. His sons stood up for him and they were so handsome.
I tested myself by getting up often . . . going to a beverage table, or the rest room or the cheese and vegetable table or to speak to assorted cousins and friends. When I realized I’d be in every wedding picture if I didn’t change seats — at least temporarily, I switched seats with another one of my cousins. I got a few pictures of the couple as they took their vows or greeting a host of family and friends.
Hour four of the wedding and I’m still feeling ok. Feet ok . . . hip ok . . . I’m ok and that’s a wonderful feeling! Hour five, the bride and groom prepare to throw the bouquet and garter. It’s a hoot, of course and I’m laughing at the single men and women and their antics during the ancient custom. Just before the first dance is announced, I get hit by the funk of the 70s spirit and before I know it, I’m up sashaying around our table and then sliding onto the dance floor. My family is delighted to see that I can do my version of the funky four corners.
By 7 p.m., I am exhausted and have been wearing my pumps since 1 p.m. that afternoon. My sister and I hitch a ride with yet another cousin and head back to the hotel.
It was a grand day.