Welcome back to The Hip Replacement Podcast. This week is the second of a series of five. So, this episode is part two of a five-part series based on the five themes from my book, New Steel. And New Steel I'm holding up here. If you're watching on YouTube, you can obviously see it. But New Steel is the story of being diagnosed with osteoarthritis and avascular necrosis. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? Avascular necrosis.
Anyway, it's that story, being diagnosed with those and then going through two hip replacement surgeries and the recovery process and eventually doing two IRONMAN triathlons. But again, this series is not about triathlon or being an athlete.
This is for hip replacement patients.
This series is about what hip replacement patients and people facing big life challenges need the most, which are hope, support, perspective on what's going on, a little humor, and the reminder that you are not alone when life gets crazy or scary, which hip replacement can definitely be a little bit of both.
In the last episode, in the first episode of the series, we talked about the idea that there is life after a hip replacement, and that life can be as great as you want it to be. Today, we're talking about fear, the fear of hip replacement surgery and the fear of the future.
And I want to start by saying something very clearly. I want to be clear on this.
If you are scared before a hip replacement surgery, you are not weak. You are not a scaredy-cat. You are not a coward. You are not being overly dramatic. You are not overreacting and you are definitely not the only one who's ever been scared of the hip replacement surgery or life after it.
If you're scared, it means you're human.
Because there is something very deeply strange about voluntarily showing up to a hospital, usually very early in the morning, so a surgical team can cut into your body, remove bone, and install new artificial parts.
If that doesn't scare you, I'm not sure you're thinking about it the right way.
And I don't know how many times the surgeon tried to reassure me and say things like, "Oh, we do this all the time." Well, you know what? Great for them. I don't do this all the time. This is not a regular occurrence for me. I don't do six of these a day.
I don't do this all the time. This is not just a regular Tuesday for me.
Excuse me, Mr. or Mrs. surgeon. This is a major life event for me. Everyone else was really nonchalant about it. From the surgeon to the people who took me into the hospital to the nurses to all the doctors to the anesthesiologists. It's like there was nothing, like they were so not emotional about it. They were like, "Matter of fact, oh yeah, we're going to do eight of these today and you're number one. So quit whining and get on that table right there."
Well, I'm not taking it from that perspective. I'm taking it from the patient where I don't want this to happen to me. I don't want to be here. I wish there were any other way out of this. But because there's not, I'm here.
And before my hip replacement, before my first hip replacement, I was terrified.
And I mean terrified. Not mildly concerned, not a little nervous, not a little put off by having this inconvenience.
I was actually lying on that gurnie in that pre-op area thinking, how did I get here?
I was in my 30s. I'd been athletic. I'd done martial arts. I'd swam. Is that a word? Swam. I used to swim, cycled, golf, lifted weights, and now I was lying on a hospital bed waiting for someone to slice my hip open and replace it. It felt unreal. To say I was scared would be an understatement.
And there are moments in life where your brain keeps trying to reject reality.
Like, no, no, no. This must not be happening to me. This must be someone else's appointment. There must be some mistake. This has to be a scheduling error.
Maybe I'm just there by mistake. Nope.
I was there. That was my reality. Scared or not, I had to do it.
I tried a lot of other treatments, but I had to be there. And I was scared. And there I was. The IV was in my arm. The medications were coming. The staff was moving around. The surgery was definitely coming.
And my fear was loud. It just wasn't a little quiet like, oh, you know, I'm a little bit concerned about this. Hell no. I was scared. I was scared of not waking up. I was scared of something going wrong. I was scared of the surgery itself.
I was scared of the recovery. I was scared of what life would look like afterward.
I was scared of never being the same.
And maybe that's the fear, the granddaddy of fears under all the other fears. What if I'm never the same?
What if I can't live my life? And that's a deep and heavy concern and fear for many people, maybe all the people.
Hip replacement is not just a medical procedure. It's an identity earthquake. It rattles you to your core.
It's not like a cavity. You go into the dentist and have a cavity replaced and you're out a little bit later and then a week after that, you know, the filling might feel weird for a week, but after that you don't notice. It's not like that at all.
So, it's the hip replacement surgery. It's an identity earthquake. Especially if you've been active, especially if you think of yourself as strong, especially if you think of yourself as young. Especially if you think of yourself as alive and want to do things with your life.
You might be thinking that this is not supposed to happen to me. I should not need this. Why me?
I should be able to fix this some other way.
And that's where fear and denial can work together against you.
I spent a long time trying to avoid surgery. I really did. I was doing everything I possibly could to avoid it.
I got multiple opinions. I tried physical therapy. I tried acupuncture. I tried stem cells. I tried PRP injections.
Some of those things helped temporarily, but eventually I had to face the truth, face the music, so to speak, that the hip was not going to magically repair itself.
Who knows? Maybe 50 years from now, maybe there will be something where everyone avoids a hip replacement surgery, but we're not there yet.
And my pain was getting worse and my life was getting smaller. And the question changed for me.
The issue of fear changed for me. It was no longer this.
It was no longer am I scared of surgery. Of course, I was scared of the surgery.
The better question, the more serious question became, am I more willing to live with this pain and limitation than I am to face the fear of surgery? And that question changed everything.
Am I more willing to live with this pain and limitation than I am to face the fear of surgery?
And I had other factors in my life and maybe you do too which really changed the equation. The fear of the surgery wasn't the only issue in the room anymore. There was also for me there was also love. There was also family. There was also responsibility. There was the future.
My wife was pregnant with our first child and I could barely walk.
And I started imagining what life would be like if I did not have the surgery and try to fix the pain in my mobility or lack thereof.
How would I help my wife? How could I take care of my baby girl? How could I be the husband and father I wanted to be?
And with those other things being considered, I became more afraid of not having the surgery and thus not being able to be the father and husband that I wanted to be than I was afraid of the actual surgery. And that is when something shifted.
The fear of the surgery didn't disappear. Let's be honest about that. I was still terrified. The fear was still there, but it was no longer in charge.
It wasn't the controlling fear anymore.
It wasn't the controlling emotion anymore. That's the key. A different more important fear became more important. Obviously, it just became more critical, more of the priority.
Maybe you have other things going on in your life and that fear of the surgery takes a backseat to whatever else is going on in your life.
So despite the fear, you move forward with the surgery. Courage is not the absence of fear.
Courage is deciding that something else matters more and moving forward despite the fear.
And for you that something else may be different.
Maybe it's being able to walk with your spouse.
Maybe it's getting back to work. Maybe it's being able to travel.
Maybe it's playing with your children or grandchildren.
Maybe it's keeping your independence and being able to take care of yourself.
Maybe it's sleeping through the night with pain. Maybe it's just wanting your life back.
Whatever your reason is, it's important.
So, hold on to it because the fear can get really loud and try to take over your thoughts.
So, you need some other reason to move forward, to go through that fear.
And the fear will try to keep your mind busy. What if something goes wrong? What if recovery is hard? What if I can't do what I used to do? What if I regret this?
Those are all real questions and you should discuss your medical concerns with the surgeon and healthcare team. Get answers. Get informed. Ask the questions. Understand the different types of procedures.
Don't just assume that when you go to one doctor that that's the only way there is because it's not.
Every surgeon has their own way of doing things, their own process, the materials that they use. And if you go to a different surgeon and ask questions, you're going to get different answers.
Ask questions to understand the recovery, understand what you can do to prepare.
But after you gather all this information, you may still feel afraid.
That doesn't mean something's wrong. It means you're standing on the edge of a major decision.
And major decisions often come with shaking hands and uncertainty and fear.
One of the things that helped me to address the fear was realizing that I had more control than I first thought.
I could choose my surgeon. I could ask questions. I could learn about different surgical approaches. I could understand the materials. I could prepare my home.
I could have the surgery on my schedule.
I could commit to doing the physical therapy.
I could decide to participate actively in my recovery. I could do all the things to help myself.
And all of those things matter.
I realized I had more control over the process than I originally thought. And it gave me a little bit of a smidge, not a lot, just a smidge of confidence. Because fear loves helplessness.
Fear grows when you feel like everything is happening to you.
But when you start taking action, even small action, fear loses some of its grip, some of its teeth. You may still be scared, but now you're scared and prepared. And that's a better combination than just being scared alone.
So, if you're preparing for surgery and you feel afraid, here's what I suggest you do.
First of all, admit it.
You don't have to perform toughness. You don't have to put up a facade of being the person who's not afraid. You can say to yourself, "Hey, I'm scared. This feels big. This is heavy. I don't know exactly what to expect."
Second thing I do, get informed. Write down your questions.
Ask the surgeon. Ask your physical therapist.
Talk to people who have gone through it and through that specific procedure.
Listen to this podcast. That's excellent. Find support where you can and realistic support. Not from people who are saying, "Oh, this is easy. You're going to love it. It's going to be way easier than you thought. You'll be back up on your feet in no time."
That's not exactly support. That's a lot of fluff.
Third thing I would do, identify your reason for the surgery. Not just to eliminate pain. There's got to be something more than that. Why are you doing this? What do you want out of the surgery?
What part of your life are you fighting for?
And if that's a stronger reason, if that's a good enough reason to move forward, that will overcome the fear that you have. Not eliminate it, but it'll give you a little bit of power.
Fourth thing, remember that fear gets a voice, but it doesn't get to be the loudest or the final voice.
Fear can sit in the meeting. Fear can sit in your head.
Fear can raise its hand and say, "Excuse me, I have concerns here."
And you can say, "Fine. Fear noted. I hear your concerns. I know that you're here. But fear doesn't get to run the whole company. Fear doesn't get to run you. You get to run you. Your values do.
Your future does. Your desire for a better life does."
I want to say something to the person who is already past surgery but still afraid.
Maybe you're afraid to walk without a walker.
Maybe you're afraid to trust the new hip. Maybe you're afraid of falling.
Maybe you're afraid every new ache and pain means something is wrong.
That's all normal, too. Recovery has its own fears.
You're learning to trust your body again. You're learning to feel, to accept what's going on. And the trust takes time. You have to be patient with yourself.
Get and use the support you need. Follow your medical guidance and remember to do the work.
You have a lot of control over the outcome here.
If you just go in for surgery and then go home about your life and do a little bit of walking, that's probably not going to cut it. If you want to feel great later on, the success of your outcome depends a lot on what you do after the surgery.
Remember to also celebrate the moments when you realize you were afraid at one point, but you move forward anyway.
That's how confidence returns. Not all in once, but one brave moment at a time.
One brave decision at a time. You can do this.
We all have that fear. We're all in this together.
If you identify the reasons why you want to move forward with the surgery, it will make that fear a little bit smaller and give you the confidence you need to move forward and know you're making the right decision.
This is the second episode in our five-part series based on the themes from my book, New Steel. Remember fear is normal but does not get to be the loudest or the final or the only voice you have.
In the next episode, we'll talk about recovery and why it's built one small win at a time. Thanks so much for tuning in to The Hip Replacement Podcast. Until next time, I wish you the best recovery possible. Take care.
