Enthusiastically, Dawn

Dear New Hip,

I hope you don’t mind my informal tone, I’m just not sure what to call you. The name Titanium Artifact crossed my mind, or Prosthetic Unit? Or HEY, YOU: New Kid on the Block, or in my pelvis, as the case may be. Either way, we should be on a first name basis, so please state your preference, as I am happy to oblige. I mean, we will be fairly intimate, in light of the close proximity of my Femur and Pelvis… which I do hope you will find to be comfortable accomodations for say, the rest of my life – so we should keep it casual, and loose. Not too loose, though. If you get my drift.

Phew, so this is it. Tomorrow we finally connect. Literally, by the power vested in my surgeon’s well-trained and prayed for precisely guided hands. I do hope and pray we will be getting on brilliantly together. I admit I have great expectations of sharing many adventures with you. How does that sound? I do hope you won’t be like some of your predecessors. I know these from observations, not first hand experience as you will be my first…bionic feature. My only. No offense they seemed to be a bit…well, rigid. I’m not trying to be negative, but I think it’s best to have an open, honest conversation about concerns we might have seeing as we will be close. I’ll start.

I am pretty sure I have a tad bit of PTSD leftover from driving with my grandmother and both of her “new” hips. Those two were a wild pair. I swear they had minds of their own. All due respect. As a passenger in the front seat of her 1972 Pontiac Lemans Sports Coupe I recall approaching more than one scenario where her hip would suddenly seem to, pardon the verbiage choice here, but, rebel seems entirely accurate. As in we are approaching a red light, with cars stopped ahead of us, and my “Gram” as I called her, begins to brake, but no, wait her foot is pushing the gas pedal to the medal and we are barreling towards the glare of red lights ahead of us. All the while she is, praying frantically a familiar prayer that goes like this:

“Shit…shit, shit. SHIT!

Meanwhile, I am in full body brake mode, air-braking with all of my ten-year old body’s strength. Eventually we stop. She accusingly addresses the instigator of our stress, “Damn hip!” with an exasperated but relieved sigh.

But, wait. There’s more. However, perhaps I should not get into my mom’s many hip adventures. Let’s just say hearing her screams in the ER as they adjusted her hip back into place manually- after she stubbornly bent over in the yard to wrestle with a resilient and resistant weed, yeah that experience scarred me for life.

I’d like to think we will have none of these little misadventures, if you please. I’ll make a deal with you. You do your part and be a useful, and good little titanium hip replacement, and I promise to be a good little recipient. I’ll keep you lubed up with movement and I’ll even take off a few pounds…or fifty, if you prefer. I mean, I aim to please after all.

Let’s get on to the good stuff I’d prefer to experience with you. Maybe I can put your mind at ease as well. SO how do these sound to you: Walks along the sea-wall with a chatty friend and her photogenic shepherd in time for sunrise? Or a walk on the beach- I do hope you will be up for that because I really do want to get back to my morning rock hunting (no rocks are abused or killed in this activity) and walks along the shoreline. I hope you will accommodate these activities as I used to be very bendy, before, you know, the bone-on bone, arthritis, blah-blah-blah.

What good was all that squatting and lunging I did in my younger years? And I was no slouch, either. All done with perfect form. Just saying. Of course the flat feet I inherited are not ideal. The 325 lb sumo- style deadlift, well that one is on me. It was a different life I was living in those days.

I’d like to hike a few mountains, if you are up to it, though. In due time. I’m not trying to rush or pressure you, but I have been a bit out of commission for a while and am looking forward to a bit more activity.

Now about your surroundings- your new home. You could do worse, let’s face it. I mean aside of the flat feet, pigeon-toed walk, and soon-to-be former “bad” hip, OK, OK and a few extra pounds! I think you will be quite pleased. I won’t mention the bunion on the right big toe as those metatarsals are super sensitive and easily offended. I think they will appreciate you as much as I do, as they have been getting a bit squished with the wobble walk I have developed during this time of hip dysfunction. All that being said, I will be turning 60 this year, and I do hope you will be committed to lasting as long as I do. We can ride off into the sunset together. Doesn’t that sound romantic?

Well, I do look forward to seeing you …or merging with you soon! Here’s to the adventures we will share- may we be as one!

PS. I really do hope you will be comfy in your new digs. I actually insist!

Enthusiastically, Dawn

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