The leg bone is connected to the...something?

And here we are with yet another exciting post from the land of the Lemon.  I apologize again for a delay in the posts; however, I have cooked up a good excuse this time!  As most of you may know, I recently went under the knife and had my hip replaced.  The formal procedure is called a “total joint replacement”.  Basically, I now have a shiny, new ball and socket hip joint on the right side of my body made up of titanium and ceramics (yes, it sure will be fun going through airport security the rest of my life).

Anyway, I went into work for the first time since my surgery to have lunch with some coworkers and make sure my key still unlocked my office door (I thought for sure it would have turned into a break room or Wheeler would have taken it over or some third thing).  While I was there, Cara reminded me that I should be posting more on my blog since I haven’t been at work.  Well, that would have been a challenge the first few weeks since I was either sleeping or heavily medicated.  I wrote down a bunch of ideas and have no idea what they mean whatsoever.  So instead of trying to interpret my drug induced ramblings, I decided to stick with what I know best which is…um, I have no idea, but it sure as hell isn’t narcotic related.

I’ve had a lot of people asking questions about what happened during the actual procedure, but then they cringe when I start talking about dislocating my hip, bone saws and staples.  So I’ve decided to tell you the entire story of what happens, but in a nicer, friendlier way that hopefully won’t be as cringe-worthy as the actual (uncensored) process.  In this version, I’m going to pretend that you, the readers, are all 5 years old:

 

Well it all starts with the surgeon using a nice, sharp “feather” to “tickle” my leg open.  He will continue to “tickle” my leg and shift muscle around until he can find my bone:

Now, I know what you’re thinking – how can I take such “tickling” without the urgent need to “laugh hysterically”?  Well that, boys and girls, is a great question!  I can take this intense “tickle” because a “funny man” put a needle in the base of my spine which makes me lose feeling from my waist down.  To be extra careful, he also puts a “tickle blocker” (read: nerve blocker) into my leg to also make sure I don’t feel anything from deep within my leg.  Even after all that, they also add lots of “happy juice” into a tube in my arm to make sure I fall asleep.  Even though I may wake up and hear certain “goings on” during the replacement process, this “happy arm juice” will make sure I have no memory of it…aren’t science and chemicals fun kids?

One more thing to add about  all of these fun things sticking/hanging out of me:  they also add another long tube into my leg to help me drain and catch all the access “gummy bears” that will be encountered during the process (NOTE:  We’ve secretly replaced Chris’ blood with “gummy bears”…let’s see if they notice).  This bag will go home with me and I will be responsible for emptying it for several days until it needs to be taken out (I call it “Mr. Thirsty”).

Anyway, on with the story…are you still with me kids?  Because now is where it gets really exciting!  So once I’m asleep, feeling nothing and fully “tickled”, it’s time to separate Mr. Femur from The Happy Pelvis.  Now keep in mind, these two bones are meant to be together forever and they never want to be split from each other…EVER!  So it’s going to take a lot of “persuasion” to get these two lifelong BFFs away from each other.  You know how when your parents want you to do something you don’t want to do like clean your room or get a booster shot or chop off your arm?  Well they will try just about anything to get you to do it including lots of candy, later bedtimes and all the television you can watch, right?  Well that’s sort of what the doctors do to get these two bones apart.  Do you remember that big word kids?  That’s right – persuasion:

Oops, sorry about that boys and girls…I guess there are images even this blog won’t show (really?!).  Instead, please enjoy this tamer picture of a stupid penguin that is about to die:

Penguins sure are silly, dumb animals aren’t they kids?

Once Mr. Femur and The Happy Pelvis are no longer friends, it’s time to take off the head of Mr. Femur.  This is done with a special lollipop that looks a lot like a bone saw:

 

Ever wonder what they do with that leftover Mr. Femur head once they cut it off?  I do too.  I asked about it a lot before this whole thing started, and all they could tell me was, “no, you can’t keep it you weirdo”.  Surgeons sure like to make you feel special don’t they kids?  Well I figured that there are starving doggies in third world countries that would love to have a bone to chew on, so I’d like to think that I am donating to helping those poor doggies enjoy a little happiness in their lives (and we’ll find out next April if that is tax deductible).

So now it’s time to make a large, deep hole down the center of the now shortened Mr. Femur.  This is done with a special drill-like tool called a…wait for it…a DRILL:

Once the hole has been drilled, it’s time use a special hammer to “pop” in the metal rod into our newly drilled hole.  This “pop” hammer looks nothing like this:

But at least it’s good imagery for our story right boys and girls?

So now that we have our hole, we have our hammer and we have our metal rod, the surgeon “gently” and “calmly” hammers the rod into place.  This is an easy task and not a hard, frustrating process whatsoever:

Once the rod is in place, the surgeon uses a GPS satellite to make sure my legs are the same length and then we’re done.  It’s time to close my “tickled” area using staples to help keep everything in place.  Where are the pictures of that?  Well, while the GPS part is pretty cool and the staples were the most cringe-worthy part of the story to most people, I have decided to leave this part short (that and I couldn’t think of anything creative to draw for them…call me lazy).

Now all I have to do is wake up.  To do this, they move me under a giant lamp that they shine in my face to make me think it’s now morning time:

It’s very important to wake up as soon as possible because it’s not good for me to stay asleep for too long.  So if the light just isn’t working, it’s time to use other measures to get my sleepy butt awake:

Once I’m finally awake, it’s time for a tantalizing meal of pretzels and ice chips.  My tummy will be pretty woozy for a while because of all the “happy arm juice” pumping through my system so it’s a good idea to eat so I can have something to throw up later.

And finally, before they send me home (yes, this was outpatient!), it’s time to meet with the surgeon one more time so he can reassure me that everything went according to plan and I should be fine:

And there you have it.  Once all of this, I head home for an afternoon/evening of sleeping, narcotics (morphine, oxycodone, and vicodin), and peeing in a Taco Bell cup because I’m too “happy” to hit the toilet from a standing position and I’m not allowed to sit down.  Sounds exciting right kids?

Maybe next time I’ll share more about what happens after I wake up, the exciting visits I had from the nurses and physical therapist and of course, more adventures down the rabbit hole with my good friends Morphy, Vicodini and The Oxy Twins.

Until then, I leave you with a final picture of Adler trying to steal my cane from me:

He loves this thing and cries when he can’t have it.  I also think he gets a kick out of watching me fall down when he yanks it out from under me.  Kids can really suck the life out of you (and have the potential to really do some physical harm)…remember to pay it forward!

-Cheers!