The Pre-Surgery Anxieties That No One Talks About

Although I was excited for all the good that would come from the surgeries, I have to admit that I found myself mourning my bad hips.

Is that weird? Yes, probably. Is it normal? Yes, probably. Let me explain. 

Let’s go back to one month before my first surgery. The hips were causing so much pain and I knew I had to get these surgeries. In the back of my mind though, I was already missing my old bones. It drove me crazy to find myself in those thoughts. “What is wrong with me?” I’m a journal-girl so I opened up my journal in the attempt to process. 

I found that there were three root causes:

1. Fear. I was terrified of the surgeries. Not just the normal, “What if it’s unsuccessful?” or “What if I won’t wake back up after the anesthesia?” (I had those too…) But I had nightmares every night of my leg falling off. Total horror movie scenes relaying in my mind. I’d wake up in tears or in a sweat. 
2. Autonomy. I didn’t feel like the hips would be “mine”. I felt like I was renting bones. One of the most basic human comforts is that we own our skin, bones, and muscles. We decide how to care for them. We spend money to indulge them with skin care routines, vitamins, and exercise. With metal rods holding my torso and legs together, I didn’t feel like they would be mine. I also had a difficult time processing that when I die one day (hopefully 75 years from now), I won’t die with the same body that I was born with.
3. Shame. I was ashamed of my own body. In the cultural wave of self-love, I felt like a huge failure. Sure, sometimes I had the typical struggles like feeling fat or hating a zit on my face but to have two joints in my body completely non-functional? Mortifying. I was only 24 at the time. I knew I had so much life ahead of me yet my bones gave up? It’s not like a self-help book or new cleanser could fix this. I want kids one day and I knew when I take them to a pool, I’ll have two 6-inch scars and two 2-inch scars popping out of my swimsuit. Will they be embarrassed?

So, there’s that. The vulnerability from my journal. No one really talks about this. We suffer in silence ashamed that we’re alone. Well, you’re not alone. After identifying these, I decided to figure it out. I spent a lot of time trying to overcome these anxieties.

Here’s what I discovered:

1. Education > Fear. I started to educate myself more about these surgeries through YouTube, medical journals, and Dr. Google. I learned how these total hip replacements (THR) actually work. I also talked with my surgeon and PT team openly. Of course, with any surgery, complications can happen but the likelihood of my leg just falling off was very, very slim. 🙂 I also challenged myself to find perspective. I could choose to worry about almost everything in my life. Every time I get in the car, I could get in an accident. Every time I go to a restaurant, I could get food poisoning. Do I worry about that every time though? No. Ultimately, I had to trust that my surgeon knew what he was doing. He performs these surgeries multiple times a week. It might be unknown to me, but these THR’s would be normal office days for him. This is why it’s so important to trust your surgeon. 
2. Take it > Autonomy. It wasn’t until 6 weeks after my Right THR that I felt like the hip was mine. I asked my surgeon if I could go for a run. Running has always been my best stress reliever. While on the run, I found myself emotional. The hip was gliding, pain-free, with my body. It was actually carrying most of the weight that the left hip couldn’t (I hadn’t had my left hip done yet). That single run was where I officially “adopted” it as my own. That experience made it effortless to “adopt” my Left hip replacement. Although recovery takes a while, it’s empowering to know that the replacements help you get your life back. They help you reclaim your body from the pain. It’s not the same body I was born with. I’m okay with that now. It’s a healthy body that can allow me to live my life to the fullest.
3. Confidence > Shame. As soon as I got out of my first THR, the shame slipped away. Yes, my bones needed help. The rest of my body though? It fought. My arms held me over the walker as I took baby steps during recovery. My mind found positivity and hope when the nights were hard. And those new hips? They worked with my body to heal. I wear those scars proudly now. I actually stopped putting scar cream over them because I’m so proud of the strength they symbolize. And yes, my future kids’ mom will have huge scars. I’ll raise them to see the strength in each centimeter. 

If you find yourself with similar fears, you’re not alone. You don’t need to be silent about these fears. Talk with your loved ones and/or your medical team to find validation and comfort through truth.