Yoga

Inside My Injury: How I Ended Up With a Total Hip Replacement at Age 45

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“Lie completely still.”

When an X-ray technician tells me to not transfer for the subsequent 20 minutes, I remind myself of the hundreds of hours I’ve spent in Savasana. Staying nonetheless whereas my left hip is scrutinized by the MRI machine is the straightforward half. While my physique seems calm, beneath my coronary heart and head are screaming and my blood is pumping at such a excessive velocity, I really feel like I might explode.

As the machine clangs, hums, and kilos its radio waves towards my bones, the decay begins to point out itself. While I gained’t know precisely what is occurring with my physique for a couple of days, I assume my left hip knew that it had been actually seen—lastly—and let loose its personal type of sigh of aid.

When I obtain the MRI report, I know there might be just one choice for me: complete hip alternative. One week later, my affable surgeon greets me with the phrases, “So, when do you want to schedule your hip replacement?” I don’t shake, collapse, cry, or freak out. In reality, I assume my hip knew this was the best choice—that it was time to say goodbye to the physique it had supported for 45 years.


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