It is hard for me to believe, even as I write these words, that nearly five months ago I had a second hip replacement. After reflecting back on the experience and re-reading my journal I was reminded of the feelings and personal progress I encountered both leading up to the surgery and after.
I share my story with the intention to provide insight so you may have the opportunity to gain a richer understanding of what it can be like to face a major surgery… and in turn be able to support your clients during this critical time. This is an account of my personal experience so please do keep in mind that every person experiences surgery differently, both emotionally and physically. Going through this surgery a second time has made me aware, yet again, of how valuable Pilates is in maintaining levels of strength, flexibility and an especially strong powerhouse during both the pre-hab and re-hab phases of recovery.
It was October 2007 and I had started Bikram yoga again, finally feeling ready to return to yoga since my first hip replacement in April 2003. I was so happy to be back in the hot room, sweating with everyone else and practicing yoga once again. One day during the standing series, I noticed that I was collapsed a little in my standing leg and not able to lift out of my hip as the abductor muscles had become fatigued after only about ten seconds. I persisted and thought the muscles would get stronger over time, after all, I told myself, I had been away from these held postures for a while and it would inevitably take time to get back to where I once was.
Several classes later with no improvement, a little ache in my hip began to develop. I noticed it felt weak when I had been practicing on the mat during side kick series and it ached after working on the chair. I knew that this hip was arthritic and had dysplasia, but it had been asymptomatic. “Could this really be happening?” I wondered, or will it just subside on its own?
During this time I was rehearsing new MVe Chair workouts for an upcoming DVD shoot in January, preparing for an MVe Trainer Camp and staying in shape for a long planned ski trip with my family. However that little ache was getting more of my attention until I was not able to ignore it anymore. I discovered that cross-country skiing actually made it feel better so I grew hopeful that it was healing. Then one night in early January I got out of bed and instantly my leg buckled under me. Denial time was over and in that moment, I knew I was headed for another hip replacement.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. We were launching our new MVe Reformer program with DVD shoot and Trainer Camp in a few weeks and I had important conferences to attend in March, April and May. Needless to say, I was bummed out. Why was this happening now?
As an active person in good shape, I felt like my body was letting me down. Could all those years of running and high impact aerobics be catching up with me? I tried to make sense of it all and in the back of my mind held onto the belief that it would disappear and everything would be back to normal. I wondered, “What have I been doing wrong? “What’s causing this?” But cognitively I knew I was born with shallow hip sockets, coupled with the damage created by the volume and intensity of impact activities in earlier years, but somehow this awareness didn’t alleviate my feelings of sadness and self blame.
I had to find a new way to relate to both my physical body and myself – and not only to make it through the upcoming DVD shoot and Trainer Camp – but also in order to face the reality of my almost certain predictable future. I was so excited about the launch of the new MVe program and the Peak team had worked zealously to prepare for the big launch. On the set of the DVD shoot and during the Trainer Camp it was interesting trying to figure out how to stand for hours, exercise and smile – all while making it look easy. I kept my mind focused on each task as it came, step by step, committed to giving my best. The shoot went smoothly and the Trainer Camp was a smashing success – the best the team has ever put on. Everyone on the team felt exhilarated by the positive energy during the camp and looked ahead to introducing the new program to the world. For me, I felt both thrilled and worried. By the end of that week, both dreading the inevitable and accepting the truth, I picked up the phone to call my surgeon.
After my initial appointments, regardless of how complete the communication was, I still had unanswered questions, which he said he could not answer until he was actually performing the surgery. I needed to accept two key facts: he was the expert and I needed to trust him. Period. I had to trust not only his expertise but also my body’s ability to heal and recover. The thought of never being able to ski or do any of the activities I love again loomed in the back of my mind. I had to accept the possibility of something going wrong at any point during the procedure – including the remote chance of not waking up from the anesthesia. I found I had a “committee” meeting in my head playing out every possible scenario. On the surface I was functioning normally, but inside I felt vulnerable, scared and fragile.
Surgery would be on March 14 and I hoped I would be healed enough by summer to present at the IDEA World Conference in July. I had eight weeks to get myself prepared. It was a very long eight weeks!
I kept myself as active as possible knowing the value of being strong entering surgery so I continued with Pilates, pool exercise, biking and cross country skiing on the weekends. The intensity and duration of these activities of course dwindled but I managed to do something each day. Pain is no fun, especially for active people. It hurt to walk, it hurt to not walk. It throbbed at night lying still in bed, with the memories of the first surgery still floating around in my mind. “Okay,” I told myself, “If I must do it again, I must – so stop whining!” However, the gnawing in the pit of my stomach didn’t subside and my inner dialogue went on like this until the day came. I felt vulnerable, anxious, angry and afraid of the pain I was about to face.
Surgery day finally came and I was as ready as I could be. At this point I wanted to get this show on the road! Before I knew it, it was my turn, and the next thing I remember was waking up. The pain was under control and the next day the physical therapist came in to start exercises and get me to stand up! The program consisted of iso quads, iso glutes, ankle flexion/extension, knee slides, hip abduction/adduction, seated knee lift and standing up. I was allowed to walk supported by a walker or crutches. I was to do this three times a day. It started slow and I had to assist my leg at first but amazingly enough, I could do more each day.
During the first few weeks I gave myself permission to slow down and take my time getting around, fondly referring to it as the time of “living in slow motion.” Since bones are in an early healing phase for the first six weeks, it was important to let them have the time they needed for that initial healing. I did begin a very modified mat program after the first week, which included the Hundred with feet on the floor, partial roll up and supported knee folds. I worked slowly but progressed quickly.
The physical therapist came three times a week for the first six weeks but never suggested any core exercises, only focused on the operated leg. I found that odd since we recognize the importance of working the body holistically. I remained faithful to the Pilates mat routine and progressed through my recovery remarkably well. Every day I could do more, walk better, and go up and down the stairs faster.
Today, I am thankfully moving around like my old self. I am hiking, biking, kayaking and practicing Pilates faithfully. Once again I am grateful for what Pilates has done for me, especially through this period of my life. I have grown from the experience as both a teacher and as a person having gained a renewed appreciation for not only the power of Pilates but for the lessons learned of trust, patience, compassion and acceptance. Thank you, Pilates.
- Clare Dunphy, Peak Pilates Master Trainer