December: Another Beginning, Still in the Middle
I’ve decided not to pretend this is a clean beginning. I’m stepping into the same pair of surgeries again — starting fresh on the left — but my right side is still mending, still teaching me, still very much part of this season.
So I’m marking the left side as Week 0, but I’m carrying the ongoing right-side timeline with me. Eventually, I may let the numbers go altogether. But for now, these little anchors help me find my place in a process that rarely feels linear.
Daily-ish Updates
- Week 17 of Right Hip Healing (Week 0 for the Left - surgery tomorrow) • December 1-7
- Beginning Again | Days 0-1 of Left Hip Healing • December 8-9
- A Softer Day, A Steadier Body | Day 2 of Left Hip Healing • December 10
- A Few Days of Ease and Edges | Days 3-4 of Left Hip Healing • December 11-12
- Gathering Energy, Letting It Be Enough | Days 5-6 of Left Hip Healing • December 13-14
- Beginning the Next Climb (PAO Surgery Day)| Day 7 - Left Hip Surgery #2 • December 15
- A Quieter Kind of Strength (PAO Surgery + Early Recovery) | Days 7-9 for my left hip • December 15-17
- Letting Things Land | Days 9-14 for my left hip • December 17-22
- Finding My Way Back to Steady | Days 15-17 of left hip recovery • December 23-25
- Listening for Capacity | Days 18–20 of left hip recovery • December 26–28
- Learning the Cost of a Little Too Much | Days 20-22 of left hip recovery • December 28-30
- On the Horizon
December has already felt full — preparations, travel, small joys, familiar heaviness, and the strange emotional overlap of healing one side of my body while preparing to start the process all over again on the other. Being in Denver for these surgeries around the holidays is its own mix of tender, comforting, and surreal. And yet, surrounded by family, close friends, and so much support, I feel steadier heading into tomorrow.
December 1–3 — Preparing the Nest
The first few days of December were all about getting ready — not just packing for Denver, but preparing the house for the return home after surgery. We deep-cleaned, rearranged the living spaces, and finally set up the new entertainment center and the self-cleaning litter box (a small but real victory). A few more upgrades — new rugs, cookware — are scheduled to arrive while we’re away. It felt good to make home feel ready to hold me again. My body has changed so much in the last year, I also ordered some new clothes for this new and ever-evolving body. They’ll be arriving at my mom’s while we are in Denver.
December 4 — Travel Day & A Sweet Reunion
We wrapped up the packing, headed to the airport, and arrived in Denver where Calvin picked me up — such a comfort. The evening was warm and easy: catching up, laughing, just being together with Mom and Calvin. It set the tone for the week in a way I didn’t know I needed.
December 5 — Patrick Arrives + A Celebration Dinner
Patrick and the pups rolled into town, and that alone made the whole day brighter. That night we had a celebration dinner with my legal team and our close family friends — a mix of gratitude, relief, indulgence, and good food. We were all a little zombified the next morning, but it was worth it. The next day unfolded slowly, intentionally, quietly.
December 6 — A Full Rest Day
Nothing dramatic, nothing productive — just rest. Exactly what we all needed.
December 7 — The Day Before Surgery
The last day before surgery was unexpectedly full in the best way. My best friend stopped by with big, exciting news to celebrate. Then one of my mom’s longtime best friends came over. The day felt big-hearted, grounding, and distracting — a little heavy around the edges, but in a way that made space for gratitude.
Somewhere in all of that visiting and laughter and warmth, it hit me: I’m going in again tomorrow.
Gratitude in a Heavy Season
I haven’t seen my brother since March, and getting time with him this week — around the holidays, especially — has been really special. The end of the year can feel heavy anyway, and combining that with surgeries, anniversaries, and everything my body has been through… it’s a lot.
But there is so much to be grateful for: family close by, friends who are like family, sunshine in the windows, sports on TV, pets curled at my feet, support pouring in from every direction.
It doesn’t make the fear disappear — but it makes the path feel softer.
Close
Tomorrow begins the left side of this journey — the same surgeries, the same protocol, and yet a completely new experience inside a body that’s already tired and still healing. I’m scared, hopeful, ready, not ready at all. But I’m held. And that’s enough for tonight.
Beginning Again
Sunday was mostly restful on the surface, but underneath it all lived the familiar pre-surgery tension — that low hum of stress, anticipation, and emotional bracing. And then, in spectacularly unfair timing, Patrick was sick all night. We all ate the same food and no one else got sick, so who knows what happened there. I felt so bad for him, but in a strange way, it was also nice to have company in the “I don’t feel great either” arena. On Tuesday, we settled into movies and soccer, keeping things soft and simple — a little reciprocal recovery style after a rough couple of days for both of us.
On Monday, Mom and I headed out for the Boulder trek. Because surgery got pushed back, we didn’t have to arrive until 10. We checked in, went through prep, and then waited until around 2 pm before I finally went back to the OR. We were home by 6:30 — such a long, surreal day — but also surprisingly comforting. So many of the nurses and staff were familiar from the right side, and that sense of continuity made everything feel safer, warmer, and less overwhelming.
The surgeon said everything went smoothly and almost identically to the right: a successful labrum repair, femoroplasty to reshape the femoral head, and thankfully no surprises. I’m back to the no-bending-past-90-degrees restriction and can’t lift my leg on my own. Those adjustments always take recalibration, but having been through this once already, I feel more prepared.
And I have to say it: I’m really proud of my right hip.
She’s doing such a fab job holding steady, strong enough now to support the left as she begins this brand-new chapter. There’s something strangely beautiful — almost tender — about one side carrying the other for a while.
The first night after surgery was rough. Pain, anxious mind, the whole cocktail. Eventually I decided to take tramadol on top of the oxy and muscle relaxer, and that helped quiet things enough to rest. Patrick’s mom lent me her old ice machine, and honestly, it might be my favorite medical device this round. I wore it all night with a 20-on/30-off timer, which made the pain so much more manageable. I only slept about 3.5 hours — insomnia after surgery isn’t new for me, but it’s still frustrating. Honestly I’ve struggled with insomnia quite a bit these last three plus years.
The CPM machine is being delivered later today. I’ll start with four hours a day and likely shift to sleeping in it once the next surgery is done. Familiar rhythms returning.
The dogs have been perfect company — sweet, snuggly emotional support creatures who make everything softer. Calvin left yesterday, and although his visit was short, it meant a lot. I love that we’re siblings who wish for more time even when we know we’ll get a big stretch together in the spring.
Friends have been reaching out, wanting to visit over the next few days. I’m grateful, and I’ll take everything one step at a time — trusting the balance of rest and connection to take shape as it needs to.
Some beginnings feel familiar, but they’re still beginnings.
Here I am again — supported, tired, hopeful, and learning as I go.
We were all so exhausted from the past few days that we went to bed early on Tuesday. I slept in the CPM machine again, and it actually went fine — and more importantly, I slept. A real, good night’s rest. Patrick woke up feeling close to normal too, and the whole house felt brighter because of it. It was one of those mornings where everyone’s energy was suddenly cheery and buoyant.
One of my sweet friends came by for a visit and brought treats from the Italian market. It was such a lovely, grounding visit — the kind of simple time with lifelong friends that just fills my heart. She left around noon, and we immediately climbed back into bed for more rest. I’m learning, again and again, how healing it is to be seen and loved in ordinary ways.
“Nurse Patrick” is officially back on duty — spoiling us with fajitas for dinner, and probably a movie to round out the night. We’re trying to soak up as much living room time as possible before Monday’s PAO. I’m expecting that one to be far more uncomfortable, so I’m savoring these gentler days while I have them.
I’m actually feeling pretty good overall — taking slow laps around the house, moving well, and settling into the rhythm of this early recovery. I ordered new crutches (Mobilegs, recommended by my surgeon’s office) and they make a huge difference. Small upgrades become big comforts in weeks like this.
Today felt lighter — a small gift before the harder climb ahead.
Day 3 — Small Joys, Good News, and Big Appetite
I slept amazingly well — started the night in the CPM around 9 pm and somehow stayed asleep in it straight through until 4 am. Easily the best rest I’ve had this round.
Patrick woke up on a mission: bakery adventures. He came home with the best sourdough any of us have ever tasted and a croissant-style pastry filled with goat cheese and blueberries. Unreal. It felt like the perfect start to the day.
I got my shower and removed my bandages — everything looks really good so far, which was a relief and a boost.
My pre-surgery appointment for Monday’s PAO was also the best experience I’ve had there yet. A few highlights:
They’re starting me on a new non-opioid pain medication (Journavx) — recently approved, and my surgeon’s PA seemed genuinely excited about it. We are too. It doesn’t guarantee I won’t need other meds, but adding this to the regimen gives me hope for less opioid dependence and an easier transition off them.
Everyone seemed genuinely excited for me to be close to done with the big surgeries. That energy felt good.
The afternoon was slow and cozy — Stranger Things, resting, and lots of peace. The evening turned into a full basketball watch party: happy Bucks game, Nuggets up big, all the fun. Then somehow we stayed up late watching Survivor and didn’t even realize it was 11 pm.
A long day, but a good one.
Day 4 — Edgier Edges, Familiar Frustrations
Planning my evening cleanse…
Last night was rough again. I slept from about 11 to 3:30, then got out of the CPM because both legs and hips were hurting. My mind was spinning, sleep was patchy at best, and I was mostly awake until 7.
Morning coffee and puppy snuggles helped. Mom brings the dogs in once we’re awake (they’ve been sleeping with her to protect me overnight), and those little morning cuddle sessions are everything.
I thought I’d nap when Patrick took the dogs on a long walk, but the nap never happened. The whole morning and early afternoon ended up being pure rest — Stranger Things, quiet time, not much else — until around 3.
At that point I realized I needed to deal with constipation before Monday’s PAO. Last round I did a big cleanse Saturday before surgery, but this time I decided to start today. Not ideal, not fun, but necessary.
We’re watching Survivor now, hoping things… start moving.
Surgery check-in is at 9 am Monday, with an 11:30 start time. It’s getting very real again.
Some days stitch together ease and discomfort in equal measure — both are part of the path. Holding steady, gathering strength for the next big climb.
Saturday
Another night of poor sleep. I felt pretty awake starting around 3 am, but still managed about 5.5 hours total. Luckily, the cleanse didn’t disrupt my sleep the way I feared it might — though my body still feels a bit clogged up. Heartburn, bloating, constipation… the glamorous side of recovery continues.
I got up, got ready, and took my laps around the house wearing my very cute thigh-high TED hose. Small routines help.
I talked with a friend on the phone, and it reminded me how much I want to do more of that during this recovery phase. Last time I got pretty reclusive, and I think that made things harder on me than they needed to be.
Patrick took the dogs on a walk while Mom and I hung out together. It feels so good to be here — nostalgic, comfortable, familiar in all the best ways.
Friends stopped by later in the day, which was really lovely. Then I spent several hours resting in bed, deep into a Stranger Things binge (always open to show recommendations!). Dinner was Jerusalem takeout — yum — followed by basketball on TV. A full, gentle day.
Sunday
Sleep was even worse somehow — about 4.5 hours. What is going on, body?
The day itself was softer. More friends visited, and Patrick brought home bagels from a local bakery, which felt like a small joy. Most of the day was spent preparing for surgery: organizing the room, showering, packing bags, making sure everything is where it needs to be, and lots of rest.
We watched the Broncos, Survivor, and then called it an early night.
One bright spot I’m holding onto: my nose seems to be doing okay so far without antibiotics. I finished them on 12/5, and that’s been a big worry in the back of my mind. So far, so good.
Tonight I’m starting the new non-opioid pain medication, really hoping it helps take the edge off and maybe — please — helps me sleep a little better.
Rest looks different every day right now — and today, this is enough.
Calvin here!! So happy to report that this big step is officially behind Tracy. She has been sending me silly texts and we’re already laughing, she’s already making jokes about her body having something to say about this new procedure and telling me how good of a nurse Pat is being. You love to hear it!
I can’t wait for Tracy to have her recovery behind her, I know there’s lots of hard work ahead. I’m so excited for her to be gardening and playing volleyball and traveling without her hips constantly nagging, and I’m so grateful for the family and care team and animals she has to help her get through this! Go Tracy, Go!
There’s a heaviness to surgery mornings — and also a quiet calm and resolve. I know this terrain now. I know how to breathe, how to wait, how to move through it. I’m good at this, even if I wish I didn’t have to be.
Strength looks different here — less dramatic, more steady.
Surgery Day
I was awake for anesthesia — I was supposed to be “heavily sedated” but was pretty awake, despite repeatedly saying I didn’t want to be. They reassured me I wouldn’t remember it, which somehow wasn’t reassuring at all… and I do remember it. The nerve block was difficult and uncomfortable; I felt my leg kick, which apparently is the signal they’re in the right place. Then came the epidural. Yuck.
The next thing I remember is waking up in recovery — unbelievably thirsty. I think I was there for about two hours, waiting for transport to my room.
On the way up, I had a funny hallway moment with my surgeon — he was beaming. Truly big cheesin’. He mentioned he hadn’t realized I knew someone whose name I didn’t recognize (🤔), which led to learning that the hospital’s COO knows all about my case. I’ll leave the backstory out of this post, but it was a surreal reminder of how visible this journey has become, in many ways I don’t even know.
Once settled in my room, I had a new nurse who brought some fresh ideas — including an ice pack setup that actually fit well over my leg and hip. Pain ramped up as the night went on, but we landed on a solid plan. There was a nurse change around 7:30, and from there things felt more manageable.
Calvin updated the website for me (🥰 go team), and we watched the Nuggets game — which was electric. Truly the perfect distraction and such a joy to watch. Happy to have our boys break the home streak with that game!
The nurses and support staff were wonderful across the board. I was in the CPM machine from 9 pm to 7 am. I didn’t love it, but honestly it wasn’t much more uncomfortable than lying still — movement really does help grease the wheels.
My veins were… a whole thing. Worse than I ever remember. Ultrasound, IV issues, vein finder failures — it was stressful for a bit, but everything ended up okay. Blood pressure, on the other hand, was great — better than okay. That had been a concern back in August, so I was relieved (and a little surprised) to see it cooperating this time.
The new non-opioid pain med (Journavx) does seem to be helping. Sleep came in pieces — from about midnight to 3 am, then more meds, then lots of interruptions — but I got through the night.
Day 1 After Surgery
By morning, I was up and moving with shocking ease — surprising everyone, including me. More excellent nurses, and both PT and OT were wonderful. I was even able to walk up and down a step easily, which made me absurdly happy.
The surgeon and team were clearly pleased with how things looked. I didn’t get to see the anesthesiology team, but everything on that front seemed to be working as intended.
My bruising surprised the nurses — slightly different than last time, but not wildly so. We also struggled more than I ever remember with finding good veins to use throughout this process. A reminder that this is a highly stressed body that’s been healing repeatedly, temporarily more fragile than usual… and also resilient as hell.
I was discharged around 1:30 pm. We picked up tacos on the way home and ate them in the living room with Mom while watching Survivor — an absolutely perfect re-entry ritual. After a couple of episodes, I climbed into bed and fell asleep fast. I think I was out by 6 pm.
Despite setting alarms every two hours to stay on top of pain meds, I still slept about 9.5 hours that night — including six hours in the CPM machine.
The First Morning Home
This morning brought a small scare: my nerve block catheter was leaking, which was unnerving. Thankfully, it’s very common. We bandaged it with gauze, and by the time we checked again around 10, it had already stopped leaking. The 24-hour anesthesia nurse line has been incredible — they reviewed photos, reassured us, and even called back to check in. Everything looked normal.
My sister came by with lattes and a pot roast dinner (yum), and it was so wonderful to see her and catch up a bit. I spent some time getting meds and supplies organized, which felt grounding.
I took a short walk through the house and out onto the deck — exhausting, but it felt really good to be upright and moving. Now I’m back to lounging with ice, Stranger Things on in the background.
And here’s the biggest difference I notice this time:
Even with plenty of pain, my nervous system feels calm. That deep unease I felt after previous surgeries just isn’t here. Knowing this is the last major surgery for a while, having the settlement behind me, and feeling genuinely supported — all of it makes things feel brighter.
I feel… sparkly. Tired, sore, healing — and pretty darn good.
After the hardest step, the body learns how to land.
The last few days have been a little messy. Some uncomfortable GI symptoms — especially overnight — made everything feel harder, and there were a few layers of stress I’m not ready to unpack publicly. Still, we decided to power through and drive home Saturday as originally planned. Getting home felt like the right choice, even with not feeling my best. I’m really glad we went for it.
What’s been especially confusing is that I’ve never struggled like this post-surgery before. That doesn’t mean something is wrong — but it does make me pause and wonder. It may not be surgery-related at all. Patrick had a brief, flu-like episode while we were still in Denver, and my PT office mentioned that something similar has been going around here. It’s also possible the IV antibiotics I received in the hospital (as part of managing my nares MRSA) are playing a role. For now, I’m holding all of that lightly — noticing without jumping to conclusions.
Even while not feeling great, I really cherished my last days in Denver with my mom (Thursday through Friday) — watching Survivor, basketball, and Big Fish together, soaking up that familiar, comforting togetherness. Her sweet neighbor even came over to give me a kitchen counter haircut; so fun! Coming home is always bittersweet; I love being with her, and leaving that cocoon of care carries its own tenderness.
The pups were wonderful at her house and seemed to genuinely enjoy “camp grandma,” as we call it. Seeing them settle in so easily there makes everything feel a little lighter.
Our home feels deliciously welcoming — the house sitter did a beautiful job taking care of things, even putting our rugs down, and Patrick’s mom brought a generous spread of food. Landing home has already helped my nervous system settle some. Home feels supportive, even as my body continues to ask for patience. Let the next chapter begin!
I didn’t have GI issues overnight our first night home, which felt promising, though things flared again early Sunday morning and lingered all day. For now, it’s one more thing to move through gently.
I slept nearly ten hours last night, which felt promising, but after getting up and moving around this morning I felt pretty awful and had to lie back down. I was supposed to go in for my PT eval today, but asked to move it to Wednesday instead. I also thought about getting post-op x-rays for the arthroscopy, but that didn’t happen either. Another full day of rest was clearly needed.
I did manage a shower — which felt wonderful — redid my PAO dressing, and removed my arthroscopy sutures (they seemed ready to come out). Beyond that, the day has been about resting, watching a show, listening to my book, and organizing things in small bursts when I feel up for it. So far I’ve only managed a smoothie and some bone broth; food feels queasy to even think about, part nausea and part difficulty swallowing. I’ve been able to keep up with my meds, which feels like a win.
I’m here now — resting, observing, letting things unfold at their own pace. Healing isn’t tidy, but I’m learning how to stay with it.
For now, I’m listening — and letting the days teach me what they can.
Tuesday — Validation and Small Order
By Tuesday, my body still felt very nauseous and weak. Pain was high, but I was getting back into a steadier medication rhythm. Emotionally, I felt drained — trying to stay calm and collected while also finding my way back into being home.
One grounding bright spot: putting away new house items and seeing things land where they belong. Small order matters right now. And there’s the excitement and celebration I feel in being able to upgrade things around the house when I haven’t been able to afford it in 3+ years. Nesting is a special cherished practice for me.
My post-op appointment was a relief. The provider confirmed that what I’ve been dealing with is very likely a GI virus and not surgery-related. That validation helped more than I expected — it let me exhale a bit and stop wondering if something was fundamentally off.
We also went over exactly what my left hip had done: arthroscopy with labral repair, femoroplasty, ligamentum teres debridement, and capsular plication. Yes, I had to look up those terms :) It does sound like more than what was done on my right side, which helps contextualize why my body feels as worked-over as it does.
Wednesday — Support Arrives
Wednesday brought improvement on the GI front — thankfully — though my body pain was noticeably higher. As pain increased, my nervous system felt more activated, and fear crept in alongside it. Or, vice versa. My nervous system has been working overtime — not just because of pain, but because of emotional strain I’m holding privately. So, some of the tension I’m moving through isn’t physical, and it’s been asking for gentleness too. Nervous system and pain are deeply intertwined, I’m convinced.
I had my early-morning PT eval, and it felt so good to see that team again. I was startlingly shaky, with low blood pressure and a high pulse — likely lingering dehydration — which was unnerving. Still, overall the appointment went well and was so much easier than after my right hip surgery in August. This time, we all know what we’re doing.
A huge bright spot: a dear friend came over to give me IV fluids. Miraculously, she had zero trouble finding a vein — it was like they were happy to see her, which honestly made us all laugh. She stayed to visit for a bit, and her sweet son came too. It was such a comfortable, nourishing kind of support.
The last of our new rugs arrived, and seeing them all in place made me genuinely happy. New cookware is all put away, too. I’m finally able to eat normal food again — our favorite pozole recipe and tamales from a new connection through our neighbor (how fun to support a local mother slangin tamales) — all of this real comfort after days of broth and smoothies.
One funny change I’ve noticed: I suddenly love ice water. I never did before — it hurt my teeth, gave me headaches, or felt hard to swallow. Ever since my night in the hospital for the PAO, I can’t get enough.
I also had to navigate the stress of pain medication refills. After being deep in GI distress for almost a full week, I hadn’t gotten organized enough to anticipate holiday closures — Walgreens hours, provider offices closing, all of it. My original plan had been to transition refills to my local PCP, but it didn’t happen in time. Thankfully, I reached my surgeon’s PA today and he sent everything through: oxy, tramadol, methocarbamol, and Journavx. A huge relief.
I’ve made a conscious decision to prioritize full nights of sleep again. No overnight med alarms — just taking pain meds when I wake naturally (usually at least twice to pee). It’s working. Sleeping through pain when I can feels deeply restorative right now.
Another lesson from my right hip early post-surgery day struggles: lidocaine patches for the win. I’m honestly shocked by how well they help with surgery-related nerve pain.
Christmas, Held Simply
There’s a heaviness to moving through the 4th holiday season in a row where I am very acutely recovering from surgery. And, we have gotten good at holding our space, enjoying the slowness and quiet. We kept Christmas very simple — just Patrick and me. I ordered us a Survivor puzzle pack, which was both fun and surprisingly challenging. We watched the OKC–Spurs game (I’m loving the Spurs more and more, and always happy to see OKC lose), took a long nap, watched Harry Potter, and ate more pozole and tamales.
The Nuggets–Timberwolves game capped the day with an absolutely legendary performance. I love our boys so much — and I love how the team connects me to family and friends, even when I’m stuck on the couch. We stayed up till midnight watching a very close game that went into OT! Thanks to my mid afternoon nap for allowing me to stay up late.
Steady isn’t loud right now — it’s built quietly, with help, rest, and small moments of joy.
Listening for Capacity | Days 18–20 of left hip recovery • December 26–28
Checking Boxes, Feeling the Cost
By Friday, my body felt a little better than it has been, and slow mornings helped keep my nervous system calmer.
A friend came by for a lovely catch-up, and then I headed out to get my x-ray — something I’d been wanting to check off the list. The imaging itself was more physically demanding than I expected. The positions were painful, and it took a full team effort with hospital staff helping me get situated. There was also a lot more walking than I’m used to right now.
Patrick and I split tasks to make it go faster — he walked me in to check in and then ran to Walgreens while I handled the imaging. Even so, the whole outing wiped me out. Once home, we rested hard: first in bed catching up on new Stranger Things episodes, then out to the couch for dinner and basketball.
One thing I keep noticing — and feeling proud of — is how different this recovery looks compared to August. I haven’t eaten dinner in bed once since coming home from the PAO. Last time, after my right hip surgeries, I could barely imagine leaving the bed except to use the bathroom. This time, pain is better, my mental state is steadier, and I started things off right by sitting in the living room at my mom’s immediately after discharge. Those early choices are still carrying me.
Pacing the Push
Saturday my body was ouchie and exhausted. I didn’t sleep well (my watch confirms it), and I’m realizing how often my nervous system is actually heightened. I’ve been shaky a lot, slipping into a kind of freeze-and-power-through mode. When I’m like that, even my vision has trouble focusing.
A call with Mom and Calvin was really grounding. I took a shower — which felt wonderful, though it’s funny how much planning and energy it requires now, from med timing to laying everything out in advance. After a nap, we watched the Nuggets game (early games are such a treat while they’re on the road), then finished a fascinating and slightly disturbing movie on Netflix (Eden — wild that it’s a true story).
That night I slept better, and it finally feels like I’m spacing my meds out to every six hours successfully. I also heard back from my PCP, which brought a lot of relief — I’m looking forward to connecting with her soon.
Choosing Support
Since the left hip recovery began, I’ve noticed something a little different in myself: I want more people around. Not constantly, and not in overwhelming ways — but in small, steady doses. Brief visits, familiar faces, moments of connection. It feels regulating in a way I didn’t expect.
That awareness has been shaping how I move through these days. I’m choosing to gently push myself when I have the capacity — not recklessly, but intentionally — because community actually helps my nervous system settle. Being alone for long stretches doesn’t feel as supportive right now, and I’m learning to listen to that without judgment.
A friend and his pup came by this morning, and it was grounding to catch up before the boys headed out for a walk. Later today, another girlfriend is stopping by after a morning on the mountain, and I’m really looking forward to seeing her.
Today I feel more rested than yesterday, though my body is definitely hurting — likely a side effect of spacing the meds out. I’m hoping to spend the day organizing what I need by the bed, unpacking my suitcase from Denver, and working on holiday cards. I’m trying to stay in conversation with my body as I move around — taking breaks, stopping when needed, and asking for help when I can.
We watched Bucks–Bulls highlights in bed this morning with coffee, and I was so happy to see Giannis back. What drama at the end of the game! I loved his response when asked by the media.
Holding More Than Just the Physical
Alongside all of this, I can feel how much emotional strain I’ve been carrying. I’m not ready to unpack it publicly, but it’s very real in my body. Right now, I’m choosing to focus on taking care of myself as best I can — asking for a little more than the bare minimum, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Sometimes that means stretching my independence — like bending the rules to put my own socks on — not because I don’t respect the restrictions, but because I need to feel some agency when I don’t have the capacity to navigate conflict. I’m listening closely, trying to balance care, safety, and self-trust.
Right now, healing looks like learning where my capacity is — and honoring it, even when it’s inconvenient.
Learning the Cost of a Little Too Much | Days 20-22 of left hip recovery • December 28-30
Sunday — Capacity Has Edges
Sunday I learned — again — where my edges are right now. I was feeling decent and decided to organize my things and unpack my suitcase on my own. It was simply too much, and it really took it out of me.
That evening we watched the new Knives Out and had homemade soup and potstickers on the couch. About halfway through, I had to pee and switched into bed so I wouldn’t have to walk all the way back afterward. It sounds silly written out, but it’s exactly where I am — making small choices to conserve energy when I can.
My nervous system felt mostly calm, though my hands were shaky and my body twitchy — something I’ve been noticing more lately. One bright spot: it felt so good to get organized, and it was nice to see a friend. My girlfriend didn’t end up coming by, and in hindsight it may have been better to keep the day simpler rather than stack too much connection at once.
Monday — Managing What’s Flared
Monday was harder. My body hurt a lot — especially overnight — and walking to the bathroom felt more difficult. I’ve been waking around 2 am, and then again between 4:30–5:30, with that second wake-up meaning I’m fully awake for about an hour. “Tossing and turning” isn’t quite right — right now I’m either strapped into the CPM or lying flat on my back, barely moving, with a pillow protecting me from the dogs.
I’m getting less than eight hours of sleep, and I know I need that — and honestly, quite a bit more.
My nervous system continues to feel both calm and heightened at the same time.
I saw a local ENT I really like, though the results were a bummer. I had a feeling my nose would continue to be a challenge. She tried suctioning and debriding, especially around crusting, and I appreciated that she’s learning with me — even though this situation is a bit outside her usual wheelhouse as a newer PA.
She did her best, and we’re going to culture some of what she removed, though we expect it to show MRSA again. For now, the plan is:
increase sinus rinses to twice daily
apply mupirocin ointment in my nostrils 3–4x/day
resume the nasal nebulizer as soon as possible given my hip mobility restrictions
update UNM and schedule a more thorough debridement in January
It’s frustrating, but familiar territory — another reminder that healing isn’t always one thing at a time.
By 12:45 pm, I already needed a nap. I journaled for a bit with ice on my hip, snuggled under blankets with the pups, and ended up sleeping about two hours (closer to three including the effort to fall asleep).
Later, I worked on some holiday cards, chatted briefly with my mom, and watched the Nuggets–Heat game — another early one, which I always appreciate.
Patrick made a delicious dinner from a new cookbook I gave him for Christmas — Padma’s All American — chicken adobo, plus pistachio shortbread. It helps when I sleep all day, I guess; he’s clearly enjoying our new cookware. He also took a load to the dump, and it felt good to have a little more breathing room in the garage.
Tuesday Morning — Looking Ahead with Support
This morning brought more good food memories — I immediately wished I could rewind and eat last night’s dinner again, followed by pistachio shortbread and tea. I love how much joy Patrick gets from cooking — such a beautiful creative outlet.
A girlfriend is coming by mid-morning, and I’m really looking forward to hugs and catching up. Another friend is also going to start helping me a little bit each week, which feels like such a gift.
I briefly thought I had a post-op appointment with my PAO team today, but remembered (correctly) that it was pushed out due to the holidays. My incision bandaging is behaving a little differently than last time — the steri-strip closest to the incision seems stuck to the glue — so it may just take longer to come off. I’m glad I have PT today to ask about it.
PT is at 3 pm — not my easiest time of day, but holiday schedules are what they are. Patrick’s mom also gave us her TENS unit, so I’ll ask PT whether they’re comfortable with me using it at home and how to do so safely.
The rest of the day is about care coordination, prescriptions, med organization — and rest. And hopefully finishing the holiday cards.
One thing I keep coming back to is how grateful I am for the deep connection my mom, brother, and I share. We’re texting in our group chat nearly every day, keeping up with one another’s lives. It’s such a gift — and I know how lucky we are to genuinely like each other as much as we love each other.
Right now, healing is less about pushing forward — and more about learning when to pause, accept support, and let the day be enough.
12/30: Begin 2x/week PT and have my PT check the PAO incision site
January: gradually return to regular Taos provider appointments as able (bodywork, therapy, pain specialist, naturopath, energy work and nervous system support)
1/6: L Hip PAO Post-Op Telemed
2/10: Denver for 8 week L Hip PAO Post-Op
2/20-24: Patrick bday trip - Salida
3/9ish: Denver
3/9: Eye Specialist
3/11: L Hip Arthroscopy Post-Op
3/13: T+P possible concert in San Fran
TBD: return to run, impact, and higher intensity exercise
