hip replacement recovery
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Hip chronicles: The bionic woman vs. the athletes
Here’s a little quiz. You will know my correct answers by the end of this post. 1. What does IT stand for? a. information technology b. iliotibial band c. idiot teenager 2. What does TFL stand for? a. texting as a foreign language b. Tahitian Football League c. tensor fascia latae 3. What does GM stand Continue reading
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Musings while medicated…
It’s been over a week since I traded in my last original hip for a new sleeker model. Not that anyone but an airport security officer can tell. I don’t think I weigh any less. I’m still wearing the same size pants. However, for those who have observed my gimpy gait since I got the Continue reading
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Marching into spring…with my rake
Last week the clock said to spring forward, but there is nothing about getting up an hour earlier that gets me springing anywhere. However, an extra hour of daylight in the afternoon was a good enticement to spring home from work, grab a rake, and head out into the garden. I love to rake. It makes Continue reading
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Convalescence, The Invalid Wife, and Emerging Bees
I’m convalescing these days. Convalescence is a great word, although we hardly use it anymore. It conjures up images of sickly people bundled up in thick blankets and wheeled outside for a bit of sun. Or rich sickly people doing the same thing on deck chairs of a cruise ship circa 1923. To my stressed-out co-workers it means I’m taking the winter off. Continue reading
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Hip Chronicles: In Which the Hipster and Hanny Go on an Outing
(If I’m lucky, Hanny won’t read this post. But I’m not that lucky.) In the third week after surgery, it is time for a real outing, but I need a chauffeur. That would be my mom, aka Hanny, who is not old but is a generation older than a daughter with a new hip. The Continue reading
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The Ongoing Adventures of Bionic Hip Mom Mom: Week 2
I need a four-wheel drive walker. The two-wheel drive model that the hospital gave me is literally a drag, especially on outings to the lab for coumadin checks. The rubber thingies on the rear legs scrape along the parking lot, and lifting the walker every step is hurting my back. Plus, it slows me down. I am Continue reading
Slightly Off the Grid 