Front Porch: Achy, breakey joints seek company

Those three little special words have been whispered in my ear.

No, not those. These – “hip replacement surgery.”

They’ve been hovering around the edges of my discomfort for some time now, and I’ve kept them at bay with physical therapy and cortisone shots. But I knew they were coming, and, frankly, I’m surprised they didn’t move from casual discussion to looming imperative sooner.

As I consider these last couple of sentences, I’m reminded of a discussion I had a couple of decades ago with one of my cousins. We pretty much vowed that we would never become the kind of old ladies who begin every conversation with a recitation of maladies, old and new, nor would our conditions and the changes within them dominate the conversation even when they became a general part of our telephone updates. So unbecoming.

Silly us.

Sometimes it kind of blocks out the sun when one of the ailments or the general decrepitude we’ve been running a race against, actually catches up to us and makes significant changes in life as we know it. And, hence, it’s almost impossible for conversations not to take a dive into the bedevilment that has grabbed hold with ferocity.

And, boy, do our conditions change more often and with more significant effect once we pass age 70. That’s just how it goes. But what does help is the sisterhood with those who have trod or are likely to tread the same path. New mothers like to exchange experiences with other new mothers. We old mothers have our own sorority. We all need allies. And there’s nothing like a little commiseration, insight and occasional gallows humor at times like these.

I really thought my knees would be the first joints to get a makeover. Nearly 20 years ago, my left knee started acting up. Suffice to say an arthroscopic adventure and cortisone shots for a few years have gotten me to a kind-of-OK place.

During that voyage, naturally, my right knee also started to bark. Then right shoulder, left hip, right hip, left shoulder. OK, stuff hurts. Stuff limits certain activities. But I’ve managed to work, live a good life and trundle on over to where I needed to be, albeit at one of my only two speeds – slow and very slow.

Conversations with medical professionals about replacement of whichever joint got too bad first began maybe 15 years ago, but I thought I’d try other things first. I even added hemp oil capsules for pain management when that became legal. Takes the sharp pain out of my knees, but it doesn’t seem to affect any other joints.

So here I am now, limping along, literally. My balance was trashed a long time ago, so I don’t even count that. Sharp hip pain on the left. Cannot easily extend my left leg when I walk without a knee-buckling reaction, so I take kind of tiny steps. I roll into my car and lift my left leg up and into it (not a thing of beauty to behold). Pain when sleeping.

But I’m still gardening (bending at the waist, as kneeling is no longer an option), making meals for my husband and myself, hauling pine needles up from the lower yard, shopping, carrying groceries, taking laundry up and downstairs (stairs being done in the fashion of a 2-year-old), having long phone visits with my sons, jotting words down for publication, visiting in-person with one friend at a time out on the deck (safely distanced) and getting on with living the older life that the fates have brought me. But as a good friend once said, that beats the alternative.

So it’s now time, finally, to heed those three little words. I await notification of my date with a new hip and prepare to begin the pre-op drill. We went through the drill last fall when my husband had total shoulder replacement, so we know what’s in store.

If those of you who have gotten this far into my want-to-hear-about-my-hip story, you, clearly, must have older people in your life or are one yourself. Thank you for listening with your eyes. Sometimes we older folks need to chat about our aches and pains, and it’s nice when there’s a sympathetic or at least a patient listener.

And I hope that there are kind people who do the same for you when you have the need.

I shall be chatting with my cousin this weekend. We’ll begin with an update on her eyes and neck issues. I’ll tell her about the hip thing coming, and I’m sure we’ll both smile about that conversation we had a long time ago about these discussions that we thought we’d never get caught dead having.

But we’re not dead yet, so we’re having them. And we’ll probably laugh about it, which is not unbecoming at all.