Welcome back to The Hip Replacement Podcast. This is the third episode in a five-part series based on the five themes from my book, New Steel.
And if you're watching on YouTube, you can obviously see the book that I'm holding up, New Steel. And New Steel is the story of being diagnosed with osteoarthritis and avascular necrosis, going through two hip replacement surgeries over 18 months and the recovery process and ultimately doing two IRONMAN triathlons years later.
Not six weeks later, not two months later, not a year later, not two years later, but years five, six, yeah, six, seven years later.
But again, this series is not about telling you how to go chase some extreme endurance event. It's more than that.
This series is about and this book is about encouragement.
It's about the emotional side of hip replacement. It's about getting through hard things. It's about realizing you're not alone.
And today's theme, the third in our five-part series, is one of the most important recovery lessons I know.
Recovery is built one small win at a time.
That may not sound dramatic.
Nobody's making an action movie called One Small Win.
But if they did, I mean, that would be kind of cool, I guess. But if they did make such a movie, it would probably involve, if it were relating to hip replacement surgery, it would probably involve a walker, a recliner, a physical therapy band, and probably the lead actor would be someone trying to put socks on after surgery, a few days or a few weeks after surgery.
Maybe almost like watching paint dry unless you've actually gone through that process, gone through that experience.
That's like a slow motion suspense.
That's real lowgrade danger. And these are all small things in life, putting socks on, but that's a small win. That's a win. And small wins matter.
In fact, small wins may be the whole game.
When people think about hip replacement surgery, they often imagine some big moment, that magical day they feel normal again, whatever that means, if that's possible.
The day they walk without pain, the day they return to golf or yoga, the day they take that trip that been on their bucket list, the day they stop actually they stop thinking about their hip all the time. And those moments are wonderful for sure, but that's not where recovery begins.
Recovery begins much earlier and it's much smaller and it's almost not noticeable.
It begins with waking up after surgery. It begins with moving your feet in bed.
It begins when sitting up even if you get help. It begins with standing that first time.
It begins with standing over that walker and taking those first few careful steps.
It begins with going to the restroom the first time after surgery, which I it seems monumental. It's so small. It's part of everyday life now.
But after surgery, boy, that's monumental.
And that first day after surgery, these small wins, it's just you, the walker, the hospital socks, and a very clear desire to make it from your bed in the hospital or surgical center to the toilet.
After my first hip replacement, I remember how strange it felt to just stand up, stand on that new hip. It was I was real tentative about putting weight on it as if the whole thing would come crumbling down, but it didn't.
And you know what? It actually reminded me a lot of taking those first few steps or just standing after hip replacement surgery and you know using the walker, it felt like learning to ride a bike for the first time.
There was pressure, there was caution, there was uncertainty, there was a little bit of danger.
So yeah, so hip standing up the first time after your hip replacement surgery is a lot like getting on that bike the first time when you're a little kid.
And after the surgery, my body knew something major had happened. I mean, I knew in my mind obviously, but just standing there, I knew something just didn't feel right.
And I was trying to understand this new version of myself and hoping it would get better.
I laid in my hospital bed for a few hours. I ate I got up, went to the restroom, to the toilet, and then I ate something. And then just a few hours later, even if it was that long, the physical therapist came in the same day obviously, and asked if I was ready to go for a walk. And I remember thinking, "Are you crazy already?
Can we maybe at least let the glue dry in this hip? Maybe." But that was part of the process.
Small movement, careful movement, supported movement, and each little step, you know, venturing away from the bed helped build confidence.
And that's what I want people to understand in this episode that the recovery is not just physical, it's mental and emotional, too. You're not only healing tissue, you're rebuilding trust and you're learning that your body can move again.
Your body obviously has to learn how to move again, but you have to realize that you're learning that the new hip can support you.
You're learning that discomfort doesn't always mean danger.
It may just mean you're going to be uncomfortable for a little while.
You're learning how to live with your body again. And that's simply going to take time.
People try to rush it, but it's going to take time. A lot more time than you think it does.
And because it takes time, one of the biggest traps in recovery is comparison.
Comparing yourself to someone else.
You hear about someone who is walking two miles after a week or two.
You hear about someone who returned to work quickly.
You hear about someone who stopped using a walking aid before you did.
You hear about someone who had almost no pain and suddenly your brain wants to indict you for not being as fast as someone else.
Why am I not there yet? What am I doing wrong? Is my recovery bad? Am I behind?
What's wrong with me?
Let me say this to be as clear as possible. Your recovery is your recovery, nobody else's.
That doesn't mean you should ignore problems or avoid asking the surgeon or your medical team questions. If something feels wrong, ask. Say something. If pain is increasing, ask.
Make sure you stay on top of your meds.
By the way, if you're worried about something, ask.
Ask your surgeon. Ask the doctors. Ask the medical team. But don't turn someone else's timeline, which may actually be a big mistake on their part, into a weapon against yourself.
You can't recover on someone else's timeline.
People recover differently. Different ages, different fitness levels going in, different weights, different ages, different surgical procedures, different medical histories, different levels of damage before surgery, different levels of muscle weakness, different pain tolerance, different home support, different sleep, different surgeons, different complications, different expectations, different everything.
So how can we expect to recover on someone else's timeline if everything else is different?
Even the same person can recover different at different stages of their recovery.
You can have a great week followed by a frustrating week. You can feel stronger one day and tired the next.
You can make a lot of progress and still have soreness.
You can be doing really well and still need a lot of rest and feel achy. That's not failure. That's recovery. And again, it's not linear.
You don't get better every day in the same amount, the same degree.
Recovery speeds up and it slows down. Sometimes it goes backwards. Sometimes it feels like you're going forwards and sometimes it feels like it's going backwards.
One of the concepts I talk about in New Steel is that you're not only recovering from the surgery, but you're also recovering from months or years of moving poorly before surgery. That's important to understand and acknowledge that, oh yeah, by the way, I was really doing damage or I was learning bad behaviors before my surgery.
If you were limping for a long time, your body adapted.
If you avoided certain movements because of pain, your muscles adapted.
If you stopped walking normally, your gate, your cadence changed.
If your activity level, your strength changed. Then surgery happens.
Yeah. The surgery is meant to address the damaged joint.
But now the body has to relearn. The muscles need to wake back up and start firing properly. The movement patterns of the muscles need to improve. The confidence needs to return.
That's why small wins matter so much. No great advancement happens overnight.
You may be waiting for a big checkpoint of, "Oh, I walked a mile or a kilometer or I walked for an hour." But there's hundreds of things that go on before that to get you to that point.
Hundreds of small wins.
A small win might be getting out of a chair more smoothly. It might be walking to the mailbox.
It might be doing your exercises even when they're boring.
And let's be honest, some physical therapy exercises are really boring. And maybe you wonder if this is helping you at all. But they're helpful. That's what they're designed to be. And they're important, but a lot of times not exactly pulse pine pulse pounding adrenaline activities.
But that's where you build a foundation for long-term success. The small wins.
The small successes that you probably don't even notice or consider them wins.
A small win might be sleeping a little bit better. A small win might be needing a little less help.
A small win might be feeling steadier, making it up the stairs.
A small win might be walking with better posture.
A small win might be realizing you just forgot about your hip for the last 10 minutes. And that's a beautiful moment and realization.
When you're in pain for a long time, the hip becomes the star of your life show.
Let's be honest, the hip controls everything. All your decisions revolve around your hip. It gets all the attention.
Every movement is about the hip. Every plan is filtered through what the hip can handle.
So when you reach a point where you forget about it, even briefly, that's a great feeling. That's a sign that your life is expanding again.
Before surgery, your life is kind of contracting. You can do less, but now your life is expanding.
Think of recovery like building a wall, a brick wall.
Not a wall to keep life out, a wall of confidence. Every small win is one brick. The first walk is a brick. The first shower is a brick. The first physical therapy session is a brick. The first time you walk outside is a brick.
The first time you go to a store is a brick.
The first time you drive, if cleared by your doctor, of course, is a brick. The first time you take a longer walk, is a brick. At first, it may not look like much, just some bricks laying around, just a few bricks sitting there. But over time, as you keep stacking these small wins, something solid appears.
Confidence, strength, independence, hope.
And that's how recovery works. Not usually one giant leap, but in repeated small actions.
This is also why consistency matters more than intensity.
You don't need to attack recovery like a maniac.
Some people do and they may be making a big mistake. Follow the medical guidance.
Go slow when you're supposed to go slow.
Rest when you're supposed to rest. Do your exercises. Walk appropriately.
Rest.
Ice if advised. Ask questions. Respect the healing process.
Don't try to build strength when your body's still trying to heal. Over time, you can gradually build.
There's no need to be on a pace as if you're trying to prove something to the world.
You're trying to get your life back in the best quality possible. You're not trying to claim bragging rights.
So today, this week, actually, identify one small win. Not 10, not a giant leap, not a giant goal, just one simple small win.
What is the one thing that you can do today that supports your recovery? Maybe it's taking a short, careful walk.
Maybe it's doing your exercises.
Maybe it's calling your doctor with a question you've been avoiding. Maybe it's asking for help from someone.
Maybe it's resting instead of overdoing it, which a lot of times can seem wrong, but it may be exactly what you need.
Maybe it's simply acknowledging that you're making progress even if it feels really slow because progress is going on and it counts even when it's quiet and small.
I remember a lot of times it didn't feel like anything was going on. I'm going through the motions of doing the physical therapy, of stretching, but I was also resting and sitting around a lot.
And all that stuff built, it all built and helped me heal and help me recover at the right rate.
And one activity, one step, one physical therapy session, one decision, one brick at a time, I built an incredible recovery.
Not a giant leap. One small step or one small brick at a time.
Small consistent steps matter. Not physical steps, but steps towards a recovery.
This has been the third episode in our five-part series based on the themes from my book, New Steel. Remember, recovery is built one small win at a time.
In the next episode, we'll talk about how your setback may become someone else's survival guide and the light they need.
Thanks so much for tuning in to The Hip Replacement Podcast. Until next time, I wish you the best recovery possible.
Take care.
