A while back, I began to get these sharp pains in my left leg; specifically, pain in the region where the leg joins the torso - which immediately made me think hernia. In 2006, I had a repair on that side and because I'm incredibly foolish in terms of what I do to my body, it seemed likely I had re-injured myself. On the other hand, there were some noticeable differences that caused me to wonder if there was more going on. For instance, and most notably, there was no external evidence as before.

Harnessing the full power of the internet, I began to explore other possibilities.

Access to vast amounts of information is equally good and bad for me. I'm reasonable enough to conclude that because I am an otherwise healthy and active man with no familial history of the big scary stuff, what ever is paining me should be fairly pedestrian. Scrolling the WebMD site, though, can create enough lingering doubt that little beads of cold sweat begin to form while considering the smorgasbord of debilitating and /or deadly conditions.  For instance:

• Avascular Necrosis - the death of bone tissue due to poor blood supply
• Lumbar Spinal Stenosis - narrowing of the spinal canal in the lower back
• Lupus
• Septic Arthritis - an infection of the joint, leading to bone damage and loss

Newly armed with countless minutes of online medical education, I decided to confer with an orthopedic doctor.  Imagine my relief when, after X-ray, the doctor concluded that my discomfort was a result of nothing more than osteoarthritis of the hip. "Whew!"

 Not so fast. It seemed that bone shape and damage had removed most of the cushioning cartilage God put there. Leaving it in the hands of Aleve or Bayer was not going to fix anything. Two years of cortisone shots later, and even those weren't alleviating the pain. On the upside, though, this news caused me to take a serious look at my overall health, beginning with my weight.

 I was about 30 pounds over my ideal weight. For every one pound of additional weight, there is about three pounds additional pressure on weight-bearing limbs and joints. Every step I took slammed 90 pounds on my femoral head and socket. I take a lot of steps per night. It started to suck. 

So I decided to watch my diet (not like a zealot, either. I still ate whatever I wanted - just not as much.) and drink more water. When I was a child, I remember asking my Grandma for Little Debbie cakes when I felt hungry. Often, her response was something like, "You're not hungry. You just think you are. Drink some water." This was an incredibly frustrating answer for a pudgy 8 year old. 

I decided to apply that wisdom to my life and began drinking just over a gallon of water per night. It was true. My body was often just dehydrated and complained about it in the form of hunger pangs. I wasn't hungry, I just thought I was. I started to count some calories and make some better choices, the end result being a loss of 40 pounds in about six months. I became a lean, not-so-mean, middle aged machine. With a limp. 

Finally, the time for choices came. I needed to do something about my hip. While losing weight, shots, and rest helped manage the discomfort, damage and disease were narrowing the options. Ultimately, I chose a resurfacing procedure that does just what it sounds like - removes damaged bone tissue and caps the area with a metal implant. Google the videos for a treat.

 So far, so good. I'm almost three weeks out from surgery now and have made a lot of progress. I'm still struggling a little, but I think it's just me being a little paranoid. I mean, you know, what if this thing "pops out?" More than any physical struggle, my ego is still rebounding. I guess that sounds a bit silly, and I've never thought of myself as an overly prideful person, but nothing humbles like being forced to rely on others. 

Managing things like stairs, and putting on socks, and anything else you can imagine that you need to bend to do...become mountains. I have had to ask my kids to help me with my socks and shoes, moments where I am both grateful that I helped raise beautiful, loving children and ashamed that I can't be stronger right now. I hate they have to see me like this. 

The flip side of this is that we are having a little fun with some of the assistive devices I was issued. The cane has proven to be most useful at both child retrieval and comedic prop. Anslee had made an escape attempt at the store one day when, instinctively, I flipped my cane around and used it like a shepherd's hook to reel her back in. That was awesome. And then, the other two get tickled when I do my "Grumpy Old Man" impression by raising it up over my head and yelling at them to get off my lawn.