Perspective

When I was 12, my mom took me to our family doctor for a physical.  I had been playing soccer for two years and was starting to have shortness of breath.  My mom wasn't sure if it was because I was a playing a position that required me to rum a lot more or because I had a mild case of asthma.  The doctor had me blow as hard as I could into this tube with a ball in it.  I passed the breathing test with flying colors.  Next the doctor had me lay down on my back to check the mobility of my legs.  I can remember him asking me about soccer; what position did I play, did I like it, what was my team name, etc.  Then he got to my left leg.  The doctor bent my knee in towards my chest then swung it out to the side.  "Is that as far as your leg can move?"  I replied to the affirmative.  The doctor then proceeded to move my leg around more, always pivoting from my hip.  He moved around my right leg too to see the comparison.  "Do you have a hard time walking, Suzie?"  I looked at my mom, frightened at what my answer would mean for me, "Yes".  I hadn't told my parents about my occasional discomfort.  Why?  Because I had watched 2 of my brothers have slipped hip and have to have surgery.  I did NOT want to have surgery so I suffered in silence and hoped that whatever it was that was bothering me would just go away.  After all, I could still walk. 
My doctor ordered x-rays on the spot.  The results were quit a shock to the doctor and his colleagues.  "How does a 12 year old have arthritis in her hip?"  I was sent to a specialist.  Because my brothers and my dad had injuries and surgeries with their legs, our family was already familiar with an orthopedist and I was sent in for an MRI immediately.  The MRI showed that my left hip joint was not formed completely.  What this meant was that the ball of the femur could slip in and out the joint, nothing was keeping it in the joint.  Over time this slipping turned into rubbing and as the arthritis got worse turned into grinding.  My hip joint was going to deteriorate if something wasn't done.  My orthopedist had never seen a case like mine (which was crazy because he was SUPER old).  He asked many other doctors and got their advice as to how to proceed.  What was decided was to open me up, cut the little joint that I had, shift it over to create a joint and then put two pins in to keep everything together.  I had surgery 1 month before my 13th birthday. 
It was a major surgery that took eight hours to perform and required me to be hospitalized for a week.  I was so sick from the anesthesia and the pain killers I was on that I could hardly eat that week in the hospital.  One night I woke up screaming, thinking that someone was cutting me open.  The nurses had to strap me down so I wouldn't hurt myself from thrashing around in my bed.  The next morning I overheard the night nurse tell my mom that I had a hallucination probably from my meds.  The day before I left the hospital I had a physical therapist come into my room with crutches.  I was nervous but excited (I was so sick of being in bed).  I remember quickly taking to the crutches and being so relieved that I could use the toilet again and have the catheter removed.  Next stop, home! 
My doctor informed my mother that I would need to stick with crutches for at least three months while my hip fully recovered.  My mom called my school when we got home, they told my mom that they would not allow me one campus with crutches after such a major surgery.  They said the risk of me falling and injuring myself was too high.  I was devastated.  I missed my friends so much.  I did not want to be stuck at home.  Luckily my brother had just gotten home from his mission a month before and he didn't have a job yet so he was home to keep me company.  The school also sent a teacher to homeschool me every afternoon.  And I had a good friend who lived up the street who would occasionally stop by on the way home from the bus stop.  I defiantly learned how to look for the bright side in situations from this experience. 
Three months passed and I was allowed to ditch the crutches.  BUT the doctor told me I should never do any activity that would put too much pressure on my hip joint.  That meant no running, skipping, jumping which meant no more soccer, football with my brothers, and PE at school.  Another blow to me.  I had four very active brothers and I liked to always try to keep up with them now I would be forced to sit on the sidelines. 
Fast forward a few years.  I was just shy of my 17th birthday.  I started having problems with my hip again.  I would be walking just fine and then suddenly I couldn't walk.  I was in pain a lot.  Back to the doctor we went.  My orthopedist who did my first surgery had retired (I told you he was old) and I went to a new doctor.  After another round of MRIs the doctor concluded that one the pins that was put in my hip a few years earlier was actually in the joint, causing more arthritis and was actually catching on cartilage (the cause of sudden stand stills).  The pins had to come out.  Enough time had passed that the new joint had healed so the pins were no longer necessary.  So 2 months before my mom and were leaving for a trip to Japan to visit my sister and her family, I went into surgery again.  The three hour surgery turned into six.  The pin that was in the joint, reeking havoc, came out pretty easily.  But the other pin broke continuously as the doctor tried extracting it from my body.  They ended up leaving half a pin in my hip and because of the complications my three week recovery turned into eight weeks.  Eight weeks back on crutches, crutching around my high school.  It sucked!  To my mom's great relief, I was released from the crutches the day before we left for Japan. 
As I grew older my arthritis grew too.  My hip can tell when the weather is about to change.  I went back to the doctor right before I got married.  Had another round of MRIs with yet another orthopedic surgeon.  I was getting married and my husband and I wanted to have children and I didn't know how this was going to be with my hip.  The doctor didn't know either.  He cautioned me that I should be careful with my weight.  More weight on my body meant more strain on my joints.  
Fast forward.  I've carried two sons full term and had them both vaginally, ALL natural with no complications.  My hip held up just fine with the exception of the arthritis deteriorating the joint little by little.  I haven't been able to run for 20 years by doctors orders.  I decided in January of this year that I wanted to run.  I didn't care what my doctor told me.  I figured I was close enough to needing a replacement that it wouldn't matter if I damaged my joint a little more and I needed to do something.  I was sad and depressed after the year I had just endured.  So I went for it.  I ran.  It felt amazing.  I totally understand the "runner high" that people talk about.  I found myself feeling more and more like myself.  Running, coupled with support of my family and friends and a few other resources totally pulled me out of my funk.
One weekend about two months ago my hip hurt so bad that I could hardly move.  I couldn't walk my stairs, I couldn't chase my kids and I was walking around like I had a wooden leg.  I went to a new doctor who told me I needed to stop running and try to put off a joint replacement as long as possible.  His reasoning was that the earlier in life you have a replacement the more likely a person is to have to have it redone later.  He highly recommended pain therapy before surgery starting with a cortisone shot followed by eight weeks of physical therapy to build the muscle around my hip.
When I went in for my cortisone shot (which was done with an x-ray machine to unsure that the cortisone got into my hip joint) I didn't have the best attitude.  To me I would have rather been going in for surgery.  I just wanted to get it over with.  I know that surgery is coming and I know that after my surgery I won't have arthritis in my hip or any of the grinding of the cartilage that I deal with currently.  The x-ray technician was super friendly and of course we got to talking about what happened to me that I was there that day.  I gave him the low down as we were waiting for the doctor and expressed to him my feelings about surgery.  What he said totally changed my perspective.  "I know you're in pain but you can walk.  What if something goes wrong in surgery and you can't walk?  You can walk now."  Wow!  He's right, I thought.  I can walk.  Maybe jumping into surgery isn't the best way to deal with my pain.
Jared and I ran into this really nice lady at the San Diego Safari Park a few months back.  She and her group were riding around in electric carts.  We were laughing and talking to her when she suggested to us that next time we come without the kids, we should rent those carts.  She and her whole group could walk.  They were older, but they could walk.  She said it was just so nice to not have to walk.  As we walked towards the next habitat, Jared and I both agreed that as long as our legs worked, we would use them, happily.  There are so many people who are not as fortunate as us.
The first weekend in May, Jared and I had the opportunity to participate in a very unique run that funded research for those with spinal cord injuries.  I was shocked to hear that there is very little research done in this area.  I decided at the last minute to join my husband on this historic run even though my doctor advised me not to.  I wanted to run for those who can't.  That morning I ran faster and longer then I ever had before and I felt amazing.  After the run, Jared and I hung out to see some interviews that were done with some people who were paralyzed do to a spinal cord injury.  I was brought to tears by one particular video.  This man injured him self when surfing, something he was very passionate about.  And instead of letting his injury define his life and who he was, he went right back out there and with some help, was on his board again.  He talked about making a choice to be happy with the hand he was dealt.  That really hit home with me.  My trials are completely different then this man's but I too want to be happy and I choice to be happy with the hand I was dealt.  I will not let my trials define my life or who I am.  I learn from them and grow to become a stronger person, a better person.  
All it took was a little perspective.