At this time last month, I was preparing to undergo hip replacement surgery.  One month later, I’m pleased to report that the surgery was an awesome success!

I went home two days after my surgery, two days ahead of schedule.  I was walking without a cane in five days and without a limp in ten. And although I still get a bit sore after walking up a long flight of stairs or working out, the pain is far less than it was before I went under the knife.

At my post-op check-up, one of my doctors shared that I was his first patient to ever had go home on the second day following an afternoon surgery.  It didn’t surprise him that I was already walking unassisted and had driven myself to the appointment.  “Fastest recovery I’ve ever seen!” he said, smiling.

So how did I do it?  What allowed me to recover so quickly?  Surviving cancer boot camp!

Before deciding to undergo the surgery, I formed a hypothesis: Next to getting poked and prodded and having to endure chemotherapy week after week, year after year, even major surgery like a hip replacement would be a piece of cake!

I wasn’t cocky about it or overconfident; it was simply a theory.

And I was right!

Of course it didn’t all happen by magic.

Six weeks before surgery, I created a set of exercises I thought would help me recover more quickly.  I walked until I couldn’t take another step.  I worked to strengthen my arms and shoulders for support.  I pushed through the pain and did a lot of leg presses and extensions to try to tone and strengthen my withered right leg.

“I don’t have to take it easy on my hip now,” I thought.  “They’re replacing it anyway!

After taking oxycodone for extensive bone damage caused by my myeloma before it was brought under control six years ago, I had a good feeling which pain meds might work best, how much to take, and when.

Taking hydromorphone (Dilaudid) by pain pump was awesome!  What a Godsend!  But working closely with my nurse, I decided to stop cold turkey and allowed her to pull my IV the afternoon following my surgery.  “You can’t go home hooked up to an IV!” she exclaimed.

I laughed when my doctors told me that they were prescribing Percocet orally for my pain once I was off hydromorphone.  After all, Percocet is merely oxycodone and acetaminophen (Tylenol) all wrapped up in one large, white tablet.  They prescribed 10 mg every four to six hours.  Experience told me I would be high as a kite if I did that, so I cut my dose in half from the start.

Sure there was some discomfort.  But I was lucid and able to write and get up to shower or walk the halls without worrying about keeling over.

Physical therapy wasn’t fun, but I always felt much better after my in-home sessions, three times a week for two weeks.  I did my exercises every day.  I elevated my leg and iced it constantly.  I got plenty of sleep, which is unusual for me.  I looked at it all as a challenge and relished my small, daily victories.

Cancer boot camp?  Yes, Sergeant!

Thanks to my six-year ordeal with myeloma, I understand how to manage pain medications.  I was already living and working through pain.

As expected, this surgical pain was manageable.  And the best part?  There was an end game.  The pain wouldn’t stick around forever like all the rest.

After a few days, my hip didn’t hurt any more than it had before the surgery.  And after two weeks, it felt a lot better.

And my workouts?  I had been forcing myself to work hard to try and maintain muscle mass ever since dexamethasone had begun breaking down my muscle six years ago.  I was motivated, knowing that a hip free of pain would allow me to build up the muscles in my right leg.  I would soon be able to take long walks with Pattie and our dog Finnegan again.  I could get in and out of the car without wincing in pain — even after taking pain meds.

We convince ourselves that Revlimid ^[1] (lenalidomide) or Velcade ^[2] (bortezomib) – even dexamethasone ^[3] (Decadron) – isn’t so bad.  “Not as bad as the chemotherapy my wife went through for her ovarian cancer,” I often tell myself.  An autolougous stem cell transplant?  “Well that’s a lot easier than undergoing an allogeneic (donor) transplant!”

We have to tell ourselves these things.  Otherwise we would fall to the floor, curl up in a fetal position, and cry.

Recruits can drop out of military boot camp.  But we can’t.  What choice do we have?  It reminds me of the old song by the Eagles, Hotel California.  “You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave!”

Hip replacement surgery?  For me, it was tolerable.  It was easier than undergoing chemo or, worse yet, a stem cell transplant in any way, shape, or form!

Thanks to cancer boot camp, I was more than up to the challenge, both mentally and physically.  After all, it wasn’t cancer.

Feel good and keep smiling!