It’s been a whole year. I’ve been looking back at the post I wrote as soon as I was back in my room after the operation. It’s short, but worth reading for the lovely comments, for which, thank you again. I was so damn chirpy, wasn’t I. I’d built myself up into quite a high, having managed to go, in a week or two, from extreme reluctance to have the operation to a gung-ho state that might be more usually associated with a bungee jumper (that is forbidden to me, by the way, as is parachuting).
The coffee morning was very jolly. I got up late and so didn’t make a cake, so took marmalade instead. Tim has finally got Seville oranges in and I’ll make a batch tomorrow. Sally, our hostess, had made cakes, rock buns, flapjacks and biscuits, so it was as well that I’d not eaten any breakfast in preparation. I don’t usually not eat breakfast, I hasten to add. I’ve gone off porridge a bit for now, so usually have a poached egg on virtuously unbuttered toast. Buttered toast would be nicer, but I’m showing the lack of recent cycling with a gain in weight. I’m wary of cycling if the weather is cold, just now, as I keep getting a blocked feeling in my ears (as I mentioned two or three weeks ago), which then shifts and makes me dizzy. It’s not bad, and it’s the equivalent of blocked sinuses and I know that the doctor will just recommend a decongestant, so I just leave it.
I feel that it’s the anniversary of getting my life back. I’m very grateful. I feel for those people whose implants have not been successful. Manufacturers are always on the look-out for new and better ones, but sometimes they turn out to be potentially unsafe, particularly the all-metal ones. I hope my other hip doesn’t start to go, but there’s no point fussing about it, it will or it won’t. If I get a few active years before the downward lurch to another op, then I’ll be happy. It’s not the new hip, it’s the gradual deterioration that’s the downer – but the main thing is, it’s completely treatable. I’m absolutely fine now, and – well – I’m glad and grateful. I’ll go back for a checkup and another x-ray with Mr C in a few weeks, and I’ll tell him.