You Can’t Die From a Limp
Even if you think death is the only way out
The Hip Replacement
February 23, 2011, the day that I had my hip replacement is the day that changed my life.
It should have been a routine procedure — surgery, rehab, some physical therapy, and then back to normal (or at least what is normal for my leg). But it didn’t turn out that way.
When I looked at my leg for the first time after surgery, I saw a leg that was turned inward, a knee that didn’t straighten, and when I tried to walk I couldn’t get my heel on the floor.
I was assured that it would improve as I did my physical therapy but it never did.
Ultimately, the surgeon disavowed all responsibility for the problem and I switched doctors (and filed a claim with the hospital’s Risk Management Office).
In May of that year, I started seeing another surgeon at another hospital, who recommended either a hip revision or a knee replacement in an attempt to straighten the leg.
Because the first replacement was my second hip surgery (the first being in 1973 when a plate was inserted to correct a congenital deformity) my hip was “compromised.”
I was concerned about a third hip surgery so soon after the second, and whether I would cause additional damage to the bone in case I might need another replacement years down the road.
So, I opted for the knee replacement (which I was going to need soon anyway).
The Knee Replacement
In August 2011, I went under the knife again.
No luck.
My leg was still bent, rotated and my heel didn’t touch the ground when I walked. So, three months later I had a manipulation under anesthesia, which is a procedure where, while sedated, the leg gets pulled to break adhesions in the muscles and tendons to release the contractures.
Apparently, my leg didn’t have adhesions because it could be straightened easily while under anesthesia. But, it bent right up again when the doctor released it.
Failure number three.
I began wearing a Dynasplint for one, then two, hours a day, which provided tension on the knee and surrounding muscles to straighten it.
It was painful — and it didn’t work.
The Tenotomy
The doctor felt at a loss and sent me for a second opinion at a third hospital.
That doctor (recommended by my insurance company and who I disliked immensely) recommended that I have a tenotomy (nicks are made in the tendon to “soften it up”) of the adductor muscle in my thigh to straighten the rotation.
He said I could “live with” the bent knee and continue my physical therapy to try to straighten it.
I returned to my second surgeon and asked whether it would be possible to do three tenotomies — adductor, abductor, and hamstring. He thought it would be possible and had me get fitted for a leg brace that I would have to wear 23/7 (except for physical therapy and including while sleeping) to keep the leg straight and aligned following the surgery.
I was working with Risk Management, who had agreed to pay for all my physical therapy (while never admitting that the first surgeon was the cause of the problem) and they wanted me to see another surgeon at that hospital for another opinion before having this next surgery.
I didn’t want to see anyone at that hospital but I finally agreed.
The Fourth Leg Surgery
This doctor recommended against the surgery, saying I should ride a bike! I opted for the surgery. So, a year after my initial hip surgery I had my fourth leg surgery (the sixth in my lifetime) — three tenotomies — followed by weeks in a leg brace.
My leg did straighten somewhat after that and my heel finally touched the ground when I walked but it still wasn’t a normal leg. And I was having pain in my knee.
My doctor recommended having laser treatments on my knee because that can be successful in alleviating the pain. It did — for a short time. Not long after the treatments ended the pain started again.
And there was another problem.
I could feel my knee locking and I thought it was due to a problem with the knee cap. The surgeon suggested an arthroscopy in August 2012 — surgery number five — to determine what was causing the locking and he found that the patella had migrated under some scar tissue and was restricting movement.
He cleaned out the scar tissue and I could move my knee again, but I still had pain and less than ideal mobility.
Several months later, in January 2013, the surgeon threw up his hands in bewilderment, admitting that he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
He recommended against considering additional surgeries simply for the sake of doing something and we shook hands and ended our association.
I had to become resigned to always limping, and worse, always having pain.
Psychotherapy
Not long after, I started psychotherapy.
I was terribly depressed that I had to live this painful life, unable to do many of the things I had been able to do before all the surgeries. While I was never an athlete, I could walk for long periods and missed doing simple things like taking the grandkids to the zoo.
I could no longer dance with my husband, an activity we enjoyed at least a few times a year.
I was falling into a deeper and deeper “funk.”
I only saw my life getting worse, with more and more limited abilities. I didn’t see an end to this tunnel of despair and thought seriously of ending my life.
So, I made a plan — not for a specific time but a just-in-case, back-of-my-head plan. There were — and are — certainly many reasons to keep living but it was a small comfort to know that I could, if I needed to, end the pain and the depression.
My Support System
I’m very lucky to have the wonderful support system that I have.
My husband, Larry, is my rock and helps me through the lowest of times.
Knowing that I have a family that loves me and wants me around helps me too. I want to be around to see my grandchildren develop and grow into adulthood. So, I have been able to pull myself back from the edge many times.
In June 2013, I went to see my hypertension doctor and, since I see him only once a year, part of the visit is catching him up on what’s been going on during the previous year.
I told him about my surgeon “giving up” on my care and he told me that I should never take that as a final answer. He gave me the name of a doctor at yet another hospital.
It took me a while to decide to do anything else with my leg, and my husband and I went to see that doctor months later. He asked me what I wanted the surgery to accomplish and I said no more pain. He said his goal was to straighten my leg, which should eliminate the pain. We were impressed and agreed to another, sixth, surgery.
The Sixth Surgery
Waking up in the hospital after the surgery and looking at my leg, I finally saw a straight leg, no longer rotated inward. I still couldn’t straighten it at the knee but it was much better than the 18-degree contracture I had before the operation.
We thought that with physical therapy there would be even more improvement.
I couldn’t believe how much better I was with the new knee, and how much the pain had subsided. I was so positive — I could see myself finally getting better. I made goals to take the kids to the zoo and to dance again.
A month after the surgery, Larry and I danced — gently but we did a lindy. I felt like I had won the Olympics. All I needed was the medal! And, in the summer, Larry and I took our grandchildren to the zoo.
I had met my goals!
But, I had to stop my physical therapy the following January because my benefit ran out. I’m not really good about doing my exercises on my own and I backslid. I had serious fatigue in the leg and the pain returned.
The knee once again doesn’t bend or straighten so I always limp, even when I concentrate on walking like I’ve been taught through therapy. Instead of loosening up as I do activity my leg actually stiffens, making motion difficult.
The big difference between the last surgery and the previous ones though, is that I realize I can’t die from a limp — and I usually don’t want to!
Thank you for reading.
