Intense right? As dramatic as it sounds it is true, and I had no idea. I have reached my one year anniversary of my journey with Avascular Necrosis of the hips, and I want to share my experience thus far to spread awareness.
The Night Of
It was past midnight on Monday June 21st. I woke up with excruciating pain deep in my left hip and groin, like a knife was jabbed into me. I laid in bed quietly sobbing, focusing on my breath, waiting for the pain to pass as my boyfriend slept beside me. After an hour of suffering I couldn’t calm down, my cries carried more pain, and fear crept in. I woke my boyfriend up, hoping he’d know what to do, but I refused his ER suggestion. We moved to the couch where he put an ice pack around my hip and held it there while I whimpered for another hour. Once I was a little numb and gained some control over my emotions he held me up as I limped back to bed where I cried myself to sleep. The pain was gone when I woke up that morning. Like nothing had happened. I was left with a lingering lethargy throughout my body and fear in my head, but no pain. I tried to think of what possibly could have happened.
The Journey
I had just come back from a camping trip to Catalina Island that weekend. I slept in a tent without a mat, which I have done before, just not in my 34 year old body. Aging is a real bitch. You don’t even know what your body can’t handle anymore until it’s too late. I also ran drunk on this trip, which isn’t a hobby of mine. My friend left a water bottle at check-in, so I sprinted across uneven terrain to get it before it was taken. I didn’t hurt myself at the time, but I figured the pain had to have stemmed from that and sleeping on the ground. I made a phone appointment with my doctor who sent me to virtual physical therapy. This was pointless and painful, but necessary to get me to my next referral to sports medicine. I stopped going on my morning uphill walks, because it became painful. Eventually I couldn’t walk without limping, and I spent a lot of time in bed self-medicating. It was August when I saw the sports medicine doctor in person, and his bedside manner was far from welcoming. He didn’t seem to think I was injured seriously, but suggested I do an MRI with an ink injection if I wanted to be conservative, which I did obviously. That MRI was at the end of September. I was required to have a driver, because the ink injection can be painful, or uncomfortable. Covid was still roaring at this point, so I asked my mom to make the six hour drive from NorCal to take me. I had friends offer, but my mom has hip issues too (unrelated, but we didn’t know that at the time), and when you don’t feel like yourself, only your mama can make you feel okay.
In the beginning of October I got my hip diagnosis, days before I moved out of the apartment I shared with my ex-boyfriend and into my best friend’s house to rent a room. The sports medicine doctor only saw a labrum tear in my MRI, so he referred me to an orthopedic surgeon. That surgeon, Dr. Shore, called me with my diagnosis, which he was shocked the sports medicine doctor didn’t see: Avascular Necrosis in both hips. “What the fuck is that?!?” Was my first thought.
Dr. Shore said he wanted me to only put half my weight on my left leg, and to use a cane or crutches for the next two months to gauge how fast this disease was progressing and to reduce the edema that had built up. I heard “don’t leave your bed or you will die,” so I put myself on bedrest. The fear that I experienced the first night reared its ugly head at me again. I was in pain and scared of needing a hip replacement at 34! I was single, renting a room, with a disease I had no control over. I was having anxiety attacks, something I have never truly experienced before this time, and I felt claustrophobic in my body, in my room, in my bed, in my mind! I wanted to escape myself. I swore off drinking temporarily in September after breaking up with an alcoholic, and this disease can be brought on by long term excessive drinking (my doctor doesn’t think this is my cause, I’m not so sure), so my familiar escape route was not an option. I turned to cannabis edibles, and I have been such a happy stoner. Edibles at night helped me sleep by calming my anxiety and putting me in such a euphoric state. I felt like everything was going to be okay. It always is, right?
After two months of unofficial bedrest I had an appointment with Dr. Shore for some x-rays to see if my bone had started collapsing. Thank goodness it had not. I was scheduled for surgery in January to repair some damage and buy me some time before needing a hip replacement. I tried so hard to get in before the new year, but Covid wasn’t having it. My surgery ended up being pushed to February 10, 2021. The saving grace was that I was all moved into my new condo, so I could recovery peacefully. Aside from that move, my ass stayed in bed until my surgery date.The day before my surgery, my mom came down from NorCal again. Who else did you expect to get me through this?
The Recovery
The surgery was really intense. Dr. Shore explained what he would be doing, but I don’t speak doctor, so I had to look up everything I had done to me:
1. Arthroscopic Labral Repair
2. Acetabuloplasty
3. Femoroplasty
4. Bone Marrow Aspiration
5. Core Decompression
This all means I had my labrum tear fixed, the dead tissue was removed and replaced with stem cells extracted from my pelvis and cadaver tissue, topped off with a hole drilled through my femoral head to relieve pressure. Fun!
My doctor said the surgery went very well, he was very pleased with himself, and I would not have wanted him to feel any other way. I was instructed to use crutches for six weeks. Little did I know the pain in the ass that would be. I was in bed for three weeks. The day after surgery was the most painful. I remember having to go to the bathroom and not being able to get up. I held my bladder for as long as I could before I tried again, successfully this time. The Norco I was given for pain didn’t do shit, the edibles helped more, but nothing made getting out of bed easier but time. Everyday was a little better. My mom left after ten days. I was able to get around enough over the next three weeks, and was crutch free March 26th.
It has been four months since my surgery. I am done with physical therapy and doctor checkups. At six months I will be clear for high impact exercise. My muscles have atrophied terribly this last year, so as soon as I build more muscle I will be in less pain after long walks and workouts. I am still not drinking alcohol, but I’m eating edibles like I’m still on bedrest. Overall I am very happy with how well the surgery went and how much better I feel. I am trying to take this disease day by day, and not freak myself out by thinking years ahead to the hip replacements I will need. I will say being diagnosed with an incurable hip disease at 34 was definitely a wakeup call for my health. I am working on my diet next. I eat a clean pescatarian diet 70% of the time and pizza and junk food the other 30%, but I know if I cut down on the processed food I will bring down the inflammation and weight so I can really feel my best.
Overall I am so happy I didn’t ignore my hip pain one year ago. Who knows the damage I could have caused. I may have needed a hip replacement now! I am a little bitter, because I feel like I already have an incurable disease (Alopecia), so shouldn’t I have a pass on any others? I know, I know, it can always be worse! I’ll take my bald head, and bloodless hips and be happy! Xo
