Rehipped in the U.S.

This blog is to update the surgery situation in a bit more detail for anyone who is interested.

First – why the U.S. and not Portugal? Well, I did see an orthopedic surgeon who specializes in hip replacement at CUF Institute, and I liked him a lot. I am sure he would have done a good job. However, two factors made me decide to go back to the U.S.

1. My son is in the U.S. and would be available to take care of me. As it turned out, this was a very wise decision, because for a few weeks I definitely needed help, and he provided it. Not going to give a lot of details, suffice to say I could not have done it without him. All praise and thanks to Eli!
2. I had real concerns about internal communication at CUF. There are many examples, but just to give one: even though all my various medications had been prescribed by a CUF doctor, I had to take photos of my med packages showing name and dosage, and email to the surgeon. He did not have access to that information. When I thought about being in the hospital, with language challenges, and staff not having access to my records … I just wasn’t comfortable with that situation. I have conditions that require I not take certain medications, and I don’t want to fool with that, because the results could be catastrophic.

So those were my two big reasons. I also found that my Portuguese insurance didn’t cover any home post-operative care, and my share of the entire thing would approach €1,000, plus whatever any home care would cost. Now, of course, if I didn’t maintain Medicare in the U.S., with a good gap policy, I would be looking at way, way more than that. But I do maintain that insurance, and I am very glad that I made that decision.

OK, so, made that decision. In early November, I hauled a heavy suitcase down to Lisbon by train. I was walking with a cane, and since my hip had gotten much worse in recent months, there was no way I was going to be able to haul that huge thing up and down the train stairs. From past experience, I counted on some kind Portuguese man helping me out. In the event, people did help me, but they were all young women! In Oriente Station in Lisbon, somehow my watch, which has been running on the same battery since 2018, fell off my wrist. The escalator was broken and I was having to walk much further to access the elevator … I just couldn’t muster the energy to look for it in the giant, kinda shabby, very crowded station. Goodbye reliable Timex watch …

Lisbon was nice, had dinner with a friend, stayed in a good but not overly expensive hotel by the airport recommended by another friend, and took a direct flight to Newark. It wasn’t bad at all. Newark was hysterical, I had a wheelchair attendant with a LOT of strong opinions, which she expressed without reservation. When my bag had to go through a scanner for Customs, she was very unhappy. At the other end some fish products being examined from luggage originating in India elicited some very pithy comments. It was pretty funny.

Once back in Durham, I spent some time seeing friends and getting ready for the big day – November 22nd. I had to drink two disgusting Gatorade-type thingies at 4:00 am, wash with some weird antiseptic, and run a gauntlet of check-in procedures, but all went smoothly. At around 9:00 am, I was wheeled into the operating room. My last memory is going down the corridor, though the doctor’s notes reveal I was “conversant” as they were administering the spinal anesthetic. Zero memory of that! I woke up in the recovery room in a lot of pain, and the nurse quickly administered a lot of narcotics. As it turned out, that was not a good idea as it made me very nauseated for the next day. Sigh …

As is the U.S. custom, I was sent home the next day after being cleared by physical therapists and given a list of exercises to do in bed. Then began a rough 3 weeks or so. It really hurt, way more than I anticipated. I think the thing that was roughest was that no one really prepared me for what to expect. Coming from Portugal had something to do with that – I would have seen a physician assistant before the surgery under normal circumstances, but apparently there wasn’t time for that. But somehow I was under the (very mistaken) assumption that I would be dancing around the house within a few days. No. Not like that at all. I took a lot of painkillers but still was very uncomfortable in numerous ways.

However, over time, things got better little by little. I started cutting down on the painkillers, getting out of bed and hobbling around a little, etc. After 3 weeks I had an appointment with the PA at my doctor’s office, he was great (in contrast with the doctor, who had a rather curt and impatient demeanor – guess this is common with surgeons). I had x-rays, discussed my concerns in-depth, and felt a lot better after that. My physical conditions improved a lot from that point forward, and I think there is a correlation. When you know what is going on, when you are well-informed, you relax a little, and you’re better able to focus on healing. That’s how it was for me, anyway.

I’m now 6 weeks out from the surgery. I can stand as long as my feeble back allows (I always knew fixing the hip would not fix the back!), totally off all pain meds, and I can walk without a cane (though when I first stand up it takes a little while to walk normally). I feel I’m well on the way to recovery, which I’m told takes 6-8 weeks (to reach about 80% normal – 6 months to a year to reach 100%), so I guess I’m on schedule.

All good news! I’m missing Porto and wondering about how my place is handling the heavy rains and winds that have been pelting the city. I will be back in early February and looking forward to it. See you then, my Portugal friends!