Hip me baby, one more time
Getting hip
Well, it finally happened. I’m now officially hip.
I had total hip replacement surgery on my right hip on March 31. The surgery lasted six hours. Apparently, while I was coming out of anesthesia, one of the nurses mentioned that I was heading to room 2, and my sister says I started singing “Kiss Off” by the Violent Femmes 😂.
I take one, one, one ‘cause you left me
And two, two, two for my family …
It takes an entire support team to endure surgery. I have so much gratitude and appreciation for my support system. My Poppop, who checks in every day. My mom, who went to Delaware a weekend early for all my pre-op appointments and pushed me in a wheelchair through Longwood Gardens. My mom, sister, and partner Faith, who were waiting for me the entire time in the waiting room during the operation. My mom and Faith, who helped calm me down in the pre-op area. Faith, who slept on an uncomfortable cot next to me every night in the hospital and woke up every time I was screaming and crying in pain to be there with me — I love you so much. Hannah, who had her own hip replaced nearly 10 years ago, who’s been through it all before me, who’s been guiding me through my intense nervous energy in the lead up to surgery — I’m so glad to have such an amazing sister. Cousins from both sides of my family who came to visit me in the hospital and brought me such joy. My dad and stepmom, who flew from Israel to stay for a week to help me recover and drive me to PT. Thank you to my family, friends, and coworkers who checked in on me with phone calls, texts, Facebook messages, sent flowers and soup — it all means so much.
Upper left: Wandered around Longwood Gardens, PA with mom two days before surgery. Upper middle: A day after surgery, feeling pretty rough. Upper right: First time going outside after surgery. Faith wheeled me all over the hospital to find an open courtyard where we could get some fresh air, and Mom and Hannah joined us. Center left: Nemours has therapy dogs who visit patients. This doodle named Monk climbed up on my bed, laid his head on my arm, and made me so happy my pulse rate monitor started beeping. Center middle: First time going up stairs in the PT gym. It was difficult, painful, slow, and fulfilling. Center right: A few days later at the PT gym, I tried out the parallel bars just for fun. It was a cool way to practice relearning how to walk again. Lower left: Fall risk bracelet with my walker in the background. Lower middle: Reeses was so happy to see me when I got home — all the pets were. He didn’t leave my side for days, such a good protector. Lower right: After my first post-op PT session out of the hospital, we went out to celebrate Hannah’s birthday at a Mexican restaurant. Happy 31st birthday to the best sister ever!
I had a whole team making sure I was safe and cared for during and after surgery. Huge shout out to all the doctors, nurses, PT/OT, and other staff at Nemours Children’s Hospital — it’s truly a one of a kind place and the specialist hospital for skeletal dysplasia. Many of these doctors have seen me for decades. And another shout out to the Ronald McDonald House Charities (RMHC) of Greater Delaware, which provides accommodation, food, and care to families of patients for free. The entire House and its volunteers do an incredible job, especially for the young kids undergoing medical procedures.
I stayed in the hospital for several days to recover. The nights were the worst — waking up in a ton of pain. Sometimes even all the meds didn’t make a dent in the pain. The days got a little easier as they went by — I practiced using a walker and a quad cane, using a leg lifter, using the bathroom, and going up stairs in the PT gym.
I was discharged once PT and my doctors felt I was stable enough to head home. The two-hour drive home was not easy. Living in a D.C. duplex is not an ideal place to recover from hip surgery, that’s for sure. But it’s where I live, so every flight of stairs is truly its own version of PT.
I’m still very much in the midst of recovery. Going under anesthesia, having your body cut open, your hip abductor muscles sliced, your bad hip taken out and replaced with a shiny new plastic and ceramic one — all of that takes quite a toll on the body. I’m relearning to walk. I’m relearning to not overcompensate with my left hip. I’ll be going to PT twice a week for months. It’s been a long, painful road. But I’m so glad to be surrounded by love and support and to know I’m getting there, small step by small step.
As a dad joke connoisseur, you can see I’ve already made several hipster jokes. Don’t break a leg, or a hip; my hips no longer lie (Shakira Shakira); hip me baby, one more time; I’m bionic now. But I absolutely welcome your cringiest hippest puns and jokes. So please hip me up with them to help me through my entire recovery!
An anthology of contemporary medical poems
Speaking of medical procedures, I’m honored to be published again by Grey Matter: A Narrative Medicine Poetry Journal, the poetry journal of the Narrative Medicine program at the University of Arizona College of Medicine-Phoenix.
This is such an essential lit mag, with the dream of elevating voices of disabled writers and the lived experiences of disability and its many intersections with medicine. Share Grey Matter with disabled, neurodivergent, chronic pain/chronic illness writers. They accept work from all members of the healthcare community, including patients, family members, and the general public. Submit here!
At the end of this month, they’re launching Grey Matter: An Anthology of Contemporary Medical Poems. Two of my poems on PTSD and anxiety are appearing in the anthology. My poem “a diagnosis I” spells out PTSD at the start of each stanza, a sort of twist on an acrostic. And “a diagnosis VIII” shares that scientists have found that trauma alters the very structure of our DNA.
Join the launch party on April 30 at 6:00 p.m. AZ time/9:00 p.m. EST to celebrate the new anthology. Scan the QR code on the flier below for the or follow this link.
Amplifying Disabled Voices
I’m also so honored to be a guest judge for Day Eight and the Mid-Atlantic Review’s special section on Amplifying Disabled Voices. The other esteemed judges are Gregory Luce and Christopher Heuer.
We’re thrilled to be showcasing the diverse experiences and perspectives of poets who identify as disabled and/or neurodivergent. Check back soon to read poems that explore the multifaceted realities of disability.
In poetry and peace,
Marlena