On February 12, I Fell and Broke My Hip.
This changed everything, not the least of which was my hip.
On February 12, I returned to my New Jersey home from a doctor's appointment, excited that my son would visit me from New York City that evening. It was raining, or rather sleeting.
I bound up the front stairs to my house carrying my computer bag and a few other items, when I felt my footing give out from beneath me. I grabbed for the handrail but it was covered in icy snow. My hand slipped off and I knew I was in trouble. Falling, and sliding down the stairs, I bottomed out and I heard my head hit the concrete step at the bottom of the stairs. But there was no damage to my head. However, my left leg lay at a 90-degree angle to my other foot, and I screamed in pain.
A neighbor heard me and rushed to the scene. She called 911. I asked her to put my parcels in my car and lock it up. I had the awareness to text my son and cancel his visit (“I fell and broke something” was how I put it) and the emergency vehicle arrived.
I thanked the neighbor and the vehicle sped off, sirens blaring. The attendant in the ambulance where I was strapped to a gurney laughed at the perpendicular position of my foot. “You’ve broken your hip”, he said, pretending to be a doctor.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I thought.
The hospital was about 35 minutes away. When we got there I was admitted and given a space in a long hallway with other sufferers of various ailments waiting their turn to get a bed.
It took about two hours but I got a room, shared with a co-habitant who kept moaning, “Please Kill Me…”
What a joyboy.
I was visited by a doctor who told me they would be operating in the morning to insert metallic elements into my hip to make it functional again.
And the next morning, they did just that. I was sedated, the first happy moment I had in two days.
I stayed in the hospital for another 5 days, under observation to see if the hip started healing.
Let me mention here that the new hip offered one new feature — constant pain.
I would have to relearn how to walk on this new hip, which meant pain.
The next month would be devoted to rehab, including physical and occupational therapies to learn how to walk and function with the painful new joint.
I am in the midst of this now, with a discharge date in 10 days. I have daily PT, learning how to walk up and down stairs and how to shuffle along with a walker for extended distances.
My new temporary home will not be the one with the steep steps I fell, but my sister’s and her husband’s place — a ranch house with 4 steps (I’m practicing) and a single level.
What the future will bring? Well, we’ll see. The future is uphill as far as I’m concerned — without staircases.
(Thanks to my sister, brother-in-law, my significant other, and my son for their support).
