“We are all in this together.” ― Hillary Rodham Clinton, It Takes a Village
“Accepting help is its own kind of strength.” ― Kiera Cass
February will be the 10th Anniversary of my blog, Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! When I began designing it, I first needed to determine why I write. I saw it first as an extension of my journals, except I would invite others to read what I wrote. From the About section of the blog, Why I Write:
First, I consider myself a journalist, not the fact-checking, who, what, where, and when kind of reporter – but the gut-checking – why did this, or why is this happening to me or others and what can I learn from the experience – activist-essayist and memoirist. I keep journals, write memoirs and personal narratives as a record of my journey and exploration inward, allowing me to excavate and externalize aspects of my essence and experience, bringing them out of the shadows and into the light. Journaling and writing personal narratives is the process of first becoming aware, accepting and embracing what I have uncovered, followed by the charting of a new course.
I also wanted to be light-hearted too, to not always take myself too seriously, to find the playfulness in words and metaphors. I invited readers to join me in the interplay and comment if they wished. Here’s the Welcome:
Thank you for visiting Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! I hope you are here to linger awhile, to read, ponder and play with the ideas and stories presented here, perhaps even leave a comment. Some of the stories are poetic, others musings, essays, or rants about the culture or the politics of the day, many are memories or snapshots of my journey growing up in the Midwest, beginning in the 1950s. I invite your comments and even appreciate a little snarkiness. I simply ask visitors to be respectful, as if you were invited into my home, and I promise to do the same.
The Backstory (or Should I Say Hip Story?)
For people who are following me on social media, or my blog, you already know most of the backstory, but let me catch-up people reading for the first time. A little over six weeks ago, I had hip-replacement surgery. I also just turned 73-years-old. I’ve lived alone 16 years, since my most recent 15-year committed relationship ended. I’m the eldest of six children, making me the ‘responsible’ one. I’m independent, often stubbornly, and I have a history of difficulty accepting help, especially when I’m sick and need help the most. You get the picture!
It Takes a Village
For a number of years, I suffered from osteoarthritis, a family genetic predisposition exacerbated by my age, weight, lack of exercise, and sedentary life style. I worked in the sales, marketing, and public relations account management and business development industries for my most of my working life. All desk jobs. I still work half-time, now at my avocation this last chapter of my life, as a person in recovery and an LGBTQ+ AODA Advocate, again, mostly sitting at my desk.
The past 10 years, or longer, I began having pain in my knee and leg, radiating from my hip, causing me to limp. I had knee x-rays which indicated I had mild osteoarthritis, and was not a candidate for a knee replacement like my brother who had both replaced.
I limped around a few more years, gradually giving up things that gave my life pleasure, camping, hiking, bicycling, the Farmer’s Market, and the Wisconsin Film Festival which required lots of walking to the venues and standing in long lines. The quality of my life was diminished. I avoided stairs, P.T. helped for a while, and soon I began at the recommendation of my osteoarthritis team, using a cane.
Eventually, I asked my primary care doctor if I could get a handicap parking hangar for my car to make it easier for me to do the self-care tasks like grocery shopping. She said yes, however encouraged me not to become reliant on it. The doctor, just to make sure things had not worsened, ordered another round of knee x-rays, plus hip x-rays. Oh, My!
When the x-rays came back for my hip, it was clear I had been suffering from bone-on-bone pain in my left hip. All the cartilage was gone in the joint, plus I had a bone spur. When I had my initial appointment with the orthopedic surgeon, his first response was, “It’s bad!”
Bone-on-bone, no cartilage and a bone spur.
Months before, I participated in an osteoarthritis program which included P.T., a nutritionist and weight loss program, an orthopedic P.A. and a psychologist coach to help me address my resistance to exercise. I lost 20 lbs. and the orthopedic surgeon thought I was a candidate for a complete posterior hip-replacement. The surgery was scheduled for December 8th.
As a person with a fair amount of project management experience, I approached the upcoming surgery and recovery like a project I could manage and control. What I soon realized was this was something I couldn’t do alone. I would need to rely on help, before, during, and after surgery.
I created a team of bio and chosen family, who when they learned about my hip-replacement, all quickly stepped up to help however they could, and do whatever I needed. I was grateful, but it required me to be vulnerable, to trust others, and to let go of control and share it with the people who love me. Not my strong suit.
Asking for Help
Hat tip to Hillary Clinton for the title of her book, and the sentiments and lessons I learned from this experience. Soon, I began making pre-surgery, day of, and post-surgery to-do lists and identify the individuals who offered to help and match them to the task(s) for which they were best-suited. Now, it required a lot of work on my part to let go of control, to be vulnerable beyond my comfort zone, to trust, and to accept their help. I clearly had a lot of work to do. I also needed to manage my anxiety and fear.
First, it began with my Health & Legal Power of Attorney documents, my Will, disposition of my body, and distribution of my assets in the event there were complications during surgery. I had procrastinated about this task, but now the moment was here. I had already asked my sister Tami to be my legal representative, and my sister Kelly the backup. We refer to ourselves as The Tag Team Sisters as we cared for our sister Roz, mother, and sister Cindy before they died and our elderly father to help him remain independent and continue to live alone in the family home.
Tag Team Sisters, Tami & Kelly
With the help of a new attorney, all the documents were completed. Grateful. Next, I asked my friend, chosen family, and Pod Squad member, Leanne to be ‘my person’ to take me on the day of surgery and be present and contact my sister Tami afterwards to let her know how it went. Leanne had been my person for colonoscopies and cataract surgeries, driving in snowstorms and taking me to follow-up appointments. She was both trustworthy and reliable, a stress-free companion.
Tracy, an ex-girlfriend and chosen family member, joined Leanne at the hospital and would be the person to take me home when I was discharged and stay with me the first couple of days to make sure I could navigate my apartment and care for myself (with help!). The bonus is that Tracy is a Physical Therapist and she would be my driver until I was able to drive on my own, accompany me to P.T. and follow-up doctor appointments as a second pair of ears, and help me with P.T. and keep me accountable.
Tracy & Linda
I had many friends and family, plus coworkers, who volunteered to deliver groceries, prepare food, run errands, etc. A number of friends and family checked-in with me on a regular basis, let me whine when I need to, or share my progress, and so much more. It takes a village.
Lessons Learned
Gratefully, the surgery was successful, I was discharged the next day with a number of prescriptions, supplements, assistive devices like a walker, grabber and tools to help me dress myself and exercises and instructions for self-care. I had met with a P.T. an O.T., pharmacist, and social worker before I was released to return home.
My return home was the phase of my hip-replacement I was least prepared for in that it had been decades since I had major surgery. I had gastro-intestinal issues, nausea, lack of appetite, and difficulty sleeping. I needed the pain medication the first couple of weeks, yet as a person in recovery, I did not want to become reliant on them.
The major issue which I was unprepared for was my home did not have the appropriate seating or sleeping arrangements. My sofa, love seat, and two small leather arm chairs were all too low for me to sit in and get up from even with help. That left one chair, my desk chair, which after a couple of hours was no longer comfortable.
It was a Goldilocks problem. My bed was too high for me to get up on and Tracy helped me remove the foam cushion top. I’d alternate between sitting at my desk chair for as long as I could tolerate, usually two or three hours, to laying down in bed, elevating my legs which was important and sleeping for an hour or two. This became my routine.
What I was unprepared for and had no input, was when members of my chosen family, and Pod Squad, generously pitched in money so I could purchase a recliner for my home, after a friend picked up the two small leather arm chairs to make room in my small living room. I had researched an affordable $300 recliner and my friends said that they wanted to give me options for something that will be comfortable, well-made, and will last awhile. I have a difficult time accepting such generous gifts and believing I deserve them. I was moved to tears.
New recliner & quilt
I applied their generous gifts, my father’s Christmas and birthday money, plus my budgeted amount and after online research and in-person test drives, found my contemporary, apartment-scaled, leather electric power recliner. Grateful. If that wasn’t enough, crafting, artistic, quilting friends made me a beautiful lap-sized quilt and pillow to use with the recliner. Yes, I repeat, It takes a village.
Chosen & Bio Family Friday the 13th Birthday Celebration
I began isolating in October prior to my hip-replacement except for work and to-dos like grocery shopping and the pharmacy to avoid contracting COVID which would postpone the surgery for months. Except for my care team, both medical and personal, I did not spend time with loved ones in person. For the holidays, I did gift drop-offs and remained in the car and visited with friends outdoors.
My birthday was in January on Friday the 13th and I was ready to venture out in the world again. I was born on Friday the 13th so it was both a rare and special occurrence. I invited eight of my closest circle of chosen and bio family to join me for dinner. These were people who all helped and supported me before, during, and after surgery.
Chosen & bio family
Some of these people did not know each other well or held beliefs or opinions that kept them more distant from each other. Before my surgery I thought, if there were complications and I didn’t make it, I didn’t want the people who I loved most to gather and not know each other in the same way I knew and loved each of them.
Telling stories
I asked everyone not to bring gifts to my birthday dinner, their gift was their presence, plus I had already received so many gifts from them, of their time, support, skills, love, AND the recliner and quilt. After polling everyone, we decided on Johnny’s Italian Steakhouse for our celebration dinner. I couldn’t afford buying everyone dinner, so each person would be responsible for their own meal. For me, this dinner was not simply a birthday celebration, instead it was also a celebration of the people I love most in life who could travel to Madison. I gave each guest a box of Gail Ambrosius Dark Chocolate and a thank you card.
As a storyteller, I shared stories about how I knew each person and our shared experiences. My chosen and bio family took turns sharing an adjective that described me, more gifts than I ever expected to receive. I watched the people I love animatedly and exuberantly interact with each other. The evening filled my heart and spirit.
Gratitude is an insufficient word to describe how loved I felt ― how loved I am ― how much I love. It takes a village: lessons learned. A thank you too to the Orthopedic Surgical Team, UW East Madison Hospital, and P.T. Staff.
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!
Dispatch from the Hideout: Hip-A-Dee-Do-Dah!
Letter to Loved Ones (Just in Case)
Dispatch from the Hideout: Letter to Loved Ones
Dispatch from the Hideout: Quarantine Bubble Edition
Dispatch from the Hideout: Pod Squad 2.0
With a Little Help from My Friends