The closest I’ve ever come to doing a pole dance was in Mexico. No, I was fully clothed, exploring a quaint historical town when I ran into the guy wire for a pole, caught it under my arm, swung around and fell to the ground. Don’t you just hate sun glare! Immediately my upper arm was swollen and deeply bruised and my body was racked. The following day I ended up in the ER of a Mexican hospital and after x-rays thought I understood that I had a serious chronic condition. Never one to let not being able to walk well stop me, I continued with my vacation using what I now know as oxycodone to relieve the pain in my hips.
A year and a half later, after my daughters wedding in Jamaica I was forced by severe hip pain to have an MRI. My first meeting with the orthopedic specialist went like this: The doctor walked into the room and introduced himself, then turned to the computer showing the MRI. When he turned back to me he said, “Which hip do you want replaced first”? Huh? Bone on bone he explained.
I have 2 vehicles. A cute 2 door Honda Civic and an older Ford Ranger 4×4 pick-up. After my right hip was replaced and my sister, who took care of me had gone, I journeyed to the garage. Well no, my hip did not want to bend and lift into that little car, but with lots of squiggling I was able to get into the pick-up. At five foot two, even a small pick-up is a hike up. My next foray out to get groceries, I had a small plastic one step stool with a belt wrapped around it with me. For about 6 weeks I would open the pick-up door, stand on the stool while holding the belt, slide onto the pick-up seat, pull the stool up into the pick-up with the belt and set the stool on the seat beside me. Reversing the process I would get out. I thought it was funny one day as I was doing this outside of Nordstrom’s.
Interestingly, it was different with my left hip, which preferred the little car but the incisions on both hips hated bucket seats …memory foam cushions to the rescue.