After 18 Months From Surgery I Feel At Long Last I Am Back In Shape

Well Folks!!
I thought I'd give you an update on my health following my total hip replacement in February 2010.  So it is 2 years next February since I went under the knife, electric saw, chisel, hammer, electric drill, nails, glue and goodness knows what else.  I have covered all this in previous posts, including the Deep Vein Thrombosis and treatment I experienced shortly after the operation - all now long gone and behind me..

I did recover very well and quickly, to an extent, but I did not realise fully that a complete recovery would take a lot longer than I would like to admit, being a rather impatient individual.  Folks, it is a big operation and the surgery knocks the body about something rotten - particularly affecting the lower legs and feet.  It is strange that even the leg not operated on seemed to swell just as much as the one which experienced the actual surgery.  Very strange.


So why am I writing about all this now?

Well, I have felt very well for over a year now and have regained my strength and stamina, thus enabling me to undertake quite strenuous activity, like in the summer when I worked on some major garden projects.

 Gosh! What a brute this equipment is - it sliced through concrete like butter!  I shall write all about these projects in due course.  I doubt whether they used this monster on my hip but there were plenty of power tools used from the Black and Decker range, I am sure.

So after about 9 months I was very able to undertake hard physical work but very recently I think for the first time my legs and feet seem to have returned to their normal size.  I can now wear my normal shoes but in particular I am delighted to report that I am able to get my feet into my favourite gardening Wellington Boots.  Of course you may be wondering why on Earth would I want to wear those awful "passion killers" and not something more becoming and striking like tight black Cowboy Boots.

 Hmmm! I see what you mean!!

  
For a start if I did wear tight black Cowboy Boots  most people around here would consider me stark raving bonkers. My point simply is I am delighted to have normal sized feet again and my green Wellington Boots are proof that this has occurred.  Also, equally pleasing, is that my black Ambulance Boots fit me once again but alas not for Ambulance duty since I am retired from the service.

Several bloggers did ask if I would add a Video YouTube of a Total Hip Replacement so you can see what a hammering I actually received.  I did try to find a video showing all the surgical procedures but this one was the best I could find.  My apologies for the picture being blocked out by the theatre staff sometimes.

"Was it worth it?", you may be wondering.  "Overwhelmingly, yes! The pain has gone, I have full mobility, It feels as though I have never had a problem and I feel great, but most of all I can wear my green Wellington Boots again.  If ANYONE out there is worried about the surgery and experiencing severe Arthritic pain like I did, then please go ahead and get it done!  You will get your life back, but it will take 18 months, plus, to fully recover.

So here is the YouTube,  Watch it if you dare LOL, and think of poor Eddie under the knife.  The chap, Greg, seemed to have had worse Arthritis than I had but I was well and truly confined to a walking stick.  Imagine it!! An Ambulanceman with a walking stick!! No wonder I could not carry on with it.





Soon I shall return to my Painting and Decorating stories with a few Ambulance stories thrown in as and when I think of them.

Meanwhile The Sunday Roast is still on hold until I can devote more time to the column.  I am very grateful to those friends who have offered assistance and I shall be contacting you in due course.  Thank you again.

Your Hip is 'hip' Eddie

Well, I've just had my hospital examination to mark the first anniversary of my total hip replacement operation.
I had another X-ray that day which shows that the replacement hip joint is perfectly aligned and still firmly set into the femur and pelvis.  I had my camera with me this time and the lady consultant who I have seen several times allowed me to take a couple of shots from her computer screen.

See the screws holding the socket joint cup in place on the pelvis?  Imagine them rasping out that little lot and using all the power tools in the Black and Decker range! And notice the way they chopped off the head of the femur and rammed the the ball joint spike into the bone after pumping in some cement.  It does not hurt at all now apart from sometimes in damp weather, but only for the first few steps.

Earlier the lady consultant remarked when she saw me walking, "Hey, look at you move - that's perfect!"  And I had just walked a brisk three miles from where I parked the car.
She said, "Does the other hip give you any trouble?"
I said, "No, why?"
She said, "The joint is nearly worn out!  I can't undersatnd why it doesn't hurt you - see the gap of missing cartilage between the ball and the socket."

She went on to say that the X-ray is only two dimensional and may not have picked up that there may still be quite a lot of cartilage there on a different plane.  She said, "Obviously it is not troubling you and we are very pleased with your operated hip, so we are discharging you. If you have any problems we can do the other one for you." 

We always enjoyed our chats and she was fascinated by me donating 92 pints of blood and managing a donation just 9 months after the operation. Apparently the risk of dislocation has fallen to below 1% so I can ease up a bit on restricting movement.  After the consultation I shook her hand and said I would also like to thank the surgeon, the chief consultant, personally for giving my life back to me.  She knocked on his door and he did not have a patient with him so I did thank him and he was delighted that I did so.

Regarding the X-ray photo. Originally it was one photo but to save my modesty I cropped out the central part LOL. The full version is available on prescription only and please make out generous cheques to Eddie Bluelights LOL

On to other things - I am still having a partial break in BlogLand and from the Sunday Roast but I hope to return soon.

Meanwhile I received an email from someone called Paul asking me if I would consider selling my blog. No way Paul, it is part of me.  Not for sale!  Has anyone else had that request?

Finally, I saw an interesting maths conundrum recently which works for people born from 1900 - 1999.
Take the last two digits of the year which you were born and add these to your age next birthday.  The answer is always 111.  How about that for a piece of useless information! LOL

Sorry Folks - My Infected Leg Means No Roast This Weekend

I must apologise that this week I am not able to post a Sunday Roast.

I have a badly infected leg, the non operated leg on which I had my hip replacement. That seems OK, I am pleased to say. Consequently I am not fit enough to get a roast ready. I think something bit me in the garden and liked the taste of Eddie's blood. However, I did not detect the flapping of vampire's wings.

Seriously I have been prescribed a powerful antibiotic, flucloxacillin, which I hope does the trick.
I went to bed early last night and slept for 12 hours and I woke up feeling very groggy with a fever like headache and with a hot leg. Funny, until recently my legs were exceptionally strong. But now I feel completely drained and my head tells me I have been overdoing things with the kitchen/house renovations for the last 4-5 weeks when I am not yet fully recovered from my operation. Still, "She who must be obeyed" and all that! LOL

My son is on holiday in Cornwall and I did his paper round this morning. Normally I would think nothing of it, but golly did I struggle with it. Jackie was talking on her blog about mail boxes and I mentioned that here in England we have a letterbox in the front door of our houses. Boy, do these kids deserve danger money!! Some people are considerate and post a notice on the front door, "Beware of the dog!" However, some don't! Dogs fall into two categories, firstly those who bark like hell, this giving timely warning that they want to bite off your fingers. However, there are crafty dogs who seem to want a silent meal - I posted the paper through a few doors and was greeted by a monster canine specimen intent on eating the paper and my hand. After the paper round I went to bed and slept for 4 hours and I shall have another early night tonight.

The last time I saw a "Beware of The Dog" notice beneath it was another warning, "Survivors will be prosecuted!" So the poor postman would have a choice of being eaten alive by a ravenous canine or being 'banged up' in the local cop shop.

Returning to the subject of The Sunday Roast I was delighted with the reception and the number of comments on Ocean Girl's roast. It makes the whole thing worth while when it elicits a response like that. However I have noticed in general interest is waning and I am wondering whether you would like me to continue with it, or have any suggestions to stimulate interest. Also whilst writing I am extremely low on roasts in the pipeline and many are taking an age to complete them. Some do not reply at all to my invitations and of course some decline. That's OK, at least I know where I stand with those.

To finish I noticed in the newspaper that Brussels has decreed that here in England we can no longer sell or buy eggs by the dozen. We must sell and buy them by the kilo. This is 'nuts' and I am fed up with Brussels telling us what to do, like what shape our bananas should be, and what size our potatoes should be. (Eddie shows his teeth on this, can you see?). Personally I think we should come out of Europe altogether and become the 51st State of America. You would then get your history back and have an honorary Queen. Our cultures are much closer that in Europe who we have been fighting for centuries. Also just look at how weak the Euro is! Poor old Germany is being dragged down and down by all these weak countries joining the EEC and here in Britain we pay handsomely for the privilege. Keep this up and Europe will never climb out of recession. These Brussels bureaucrats should be concentrating on dealing with international crime and particularly all the fraudsters who personally I think should be hung, drawn and quartered.

This was a bit longer than I intended but nothing compared to the work involved in getting a roast together. I will have one ready for next week.

Discharged From Hospital and Convalescing

"How Do I Get Me Pants and Trousers On, Love?"

Little did I know I was soon to answer my own question by cleverly adapting The Hokey Cokey dance.

I was back home and I found this task to be the most difficult operation since my hip replacement because I was not able to bend down far enough to reach my left foot without a major risk of hip dislocation. Two other things I could not do either - wash my feet and wash my hair and so Mrs Bluelights helped me out with these.

Hair washing was akin my wife aiming a powerful jet of water from the shower straight into my ears. which I always hate! I cannot wait to be able to do it myself the old way, under the shower.

Then I pioneered putting on pants and trousers and was inspired by the Hokey Cokey dance for some reason.

"You put your left leg in, your right leg in, in out in out and shake it all about!"
I used the curved end of the walking stick to hook the trousers and at floor level, aimed my improving left foot into a trouser hole and, just like catching a fish, bingo, "Got ya!" I knew I had a 50% chance of getting the correct leg into the correct trouser, thus ensuring I was facing the right way round enabling me to walking forwards not backwards eventually. I proceeded to hoist my 'quarry' up my leg, wriggling my foot as the dance says, "Shaking all about!", to assist movement upwards. Then the same for the right leg and with luck I had my trousers on the correct way round. Several dummy runs caused me to place two legs down one trouser, on one occasion a foot appeared out of the zip fly and I did get them on the wrong way round sometimes - but I soon perfected the technique with a 95% success rate. I shall spare your blushes about how I managed to get my underpants on but needless to say I pioneered and equally ingenious and danger free technique and I am pleased to be here, alive and able to tell the tale.

Before all this and back at the hospital, it was day three and I saw Ed the physio who showed me a set of 10 exercises designed to strengthen my legs and buttock muscles. (Don't laugh! - I'll allow you a respectful grin. I will not show you a photo because I might make a complete arse of myself LOL.) I managed to do all the exercises quite easily and was able to do the maximum 20 repeats straight away. Ed said I would in all probability be discharged that afternoon. I remarked to him and his next patient on the ward, an elderly gent who had been hospitalised for over a week, that Ed would make ballet dancers out of us yet!

During my stay I found out I could email from a local device and I was able to send and receive emails from a few of my blogging friends. This lifted me a bit further. All this time I did feel as though I had been in a fight with Mike Tyson but I was relatively pain free which was wonderful. Visitors were amazed at how well I looked but in reality I was much weaker than normal and well below par.

I was indeed discharged that day after saying my goodbyes and in a way I was quite sad to leave. They had looked after me very well and I totally respected them all, as indeed I always do to all the nursing and hospital staff I meet everywhere. I was wheeled to the departure lounge and there I saw two Ambulance Men I knew who worked for another Ambulance Service. They were amused and surprised to see me as a patient for a change. A friend of the family, an ex-nurse, who worked at the hospital had visited me earlier and she said she would take me home, so there was no need for Mrs Bluelights to drive all the way to the hospital.

After a few days at home I was aware that my left leg was swelling unnaturally and when the district nurse visited she was a little alarmed to see I had developed an infection at the base of the wound. I felt lousy and a course of antibiotics was prescribed. Fortunately, these did a wonderful job and after a few days we knew they were effective.

Well I think I have run out of space and shall conclude the story next week and by popular request I will including a You Tube of the enire operation for those who like blood and gore. I am having difficulty finding it right now. I would quite understand anyone who declined my kind offer but for those masochists who revel in imagining it is Eddie as the patient, please be my guest next week LOL.

Also next time, I shall cover some of your encouraging words including a kind observation that my surgeon had recoupled my leg the right way round and not facing backwards, about me soon being able to pole vault, triple jump and ice skate with triple loops - plus my attempts to walk to the local shops, please tune in then.

Why Can Men Run Faster Than Women

Freddie 'Blue Eyes' Bluelights explains why men run faster than women.

First, Ive just heard from the hospital that my total hip replacement operation will be on Saturday 13th February. I shall be in hospital from 3-7 days depending upon how well I recover. Always the optimist I intend to make it 3 days so hopefully I will see you on Wednesday (fleetingly). I shall keep the roasts going by automatic scheduling just in case and look forward to seeing you when I return. I do apologise I have not visited many of you recently - I have felt dreadfully dragged down with this painful hip.

*******

Now to Freddie - notice his blue eyes are beginning to sparkle. This follows on from Freddie's previous lecture entitled, "Why women can multi-task and men can't." If you missed it press HERE.

Last time I ended up by asking, "Why can men run faster than women?"

Was it so he can chase one of these?

Or to run away from one of these?

Or maybe running like hell from one of these? Imagine one of these charging at you from the forest!!Or perhaps fleeing from his mother-in-law? HELP!

The question is divided into two halves. 'How?' and 'Why?' As usual the scientists tackle the 'How' part and totally ignore the 'Why' because they just will not speculate but deal only in fact.

OK let's play along with them and the examine the 'How' part and clear the way for 'Why'.

Now is Freddie the ultimate running machine? Not necessarily but he might be if he were to become super fit, slim and trim, train, have the best coaching, and have a good cardio-vascular system. Clearly our Freddie Bluelights isn't a natural athlete but he is highly knowledgeable on the subject, having a degree at Bedrock University on Behavioural Studies of Men and Women.

In terms of the animal kingdom is any human the ultimate running machine? Evidence shouts a resounding "No!" Leaving aside the Cheetah, even a 3 ton Hippo can beat the current world record 100 metres champion over a short distance, and the 10,000 metres world record holder is utterly hopeless against wild dogs who could easily run him down.

Today in his second talk Freddie examines some recent research on this subject - some true and some wildly inaccurate. As Freddie explains, the main point to remember is a top quality woman athlete can beat 99% of all men across all distances, simply because most men are not athletes. However no woman can beat any male athlete over any distance - yet! Freddie says, yet, because some years ago a theory was put forward that women had made much greater advances than men in terms of reducing times for all events across the entire range of track and field. At the same time men were making only modest improvements because they were already near their optimum potential. Scientists supporting this idea made a fundamental error, assuming that this rapid improvement in women would continue at the same rate. So by the year 2050 women it was put about within scientific circles women would actually beat men in every event, claiming world records by the score. Freddie will explain how silly this argument is.

The answer to 'How' could be that male athletes are more muscular, have less fat and possess a larger heart, and whereas all these are true the main reason is simply the male sex hormone testosterone present in men and absent in women. This is the key because testosterone promotes the production of haemoglobin, the oxygen-carrying protein found inside red blood cells, and testosterone also increases the concentration of red cells in the blood. The key female sex hormone, oestrogen makes them more rounded and curvy but has no such effect. As a result, each litre of male blood contains about 150-160 grams of haemoglobin, compared to only 130-140 grams for females. The bottom line is that each litre of male blood can carry about 11 per cent more oxygen than a similar quantity of female blood. Strangely enough, male world records at distances from 800 metres all the way up to the marathon are also about 11 per cent faster than female world marks. Is that just a coincidence, or does the 11 per cent enhancement of blood oxygen in males produce the 11 per cent improvement in running speeds?

Since oxygen is needed to furnish most of the energy required for endurance running, some scientists have suspected that the 11 per cent oxygen difference is indeed the key factor behind male-female performance variation. So, Freddie, explains no matter how much women have improved in their performances this 11% difference will always hinder them from equalling, let alone surpassing, their male counterparts. Further, since women have the hormone oestrogen, they produce more fat and this can be regarded as dead weight. "Ah!" some people might say, "muscle is heavier than fat and therefore would require more oxygen to get this weight round the track than the extra fat in women."

"Rubbish!" Freddie would argue, "muscles are not dead weight because they aid propulsion."

Incidentally the female hormone oestrogen is responsible also for developing the 30% extra connections in ladies brains so they can multi-task.

So now we come to the interesting 'Why' part of the question, "Why can men run faster than women?" In other words what led to this situation in the first place causing men to secrete more testosterone and women more oestrogen?

Was it God giving Adam and Eve a choice in the Garden Of Eden. Did he say, "Now look folks, do you want a hairy chest, speak with a deep voice, do one thing only at a time but do it well, run faster, talk less, be shy and retiring? Or do you want to speak in a high voice, have a lot less hair, possess a nice curvacious body, have a multi-tasking brain plus the ability to talk the hind leg off a donkey and flutter your eye-lashes?"

Obviously they made their appropriate choices but it was developed further by macro evolution. The full answer of 'How' goes way beyond the remit of this study but it seems to centre on how Freddie's ancestors developed and perhaps females ability to multi-task and not to specialise in just one area may have led to this, causing them to have a lower oxygen uptake and run slower. They did not need to focus on just one thing, like an ape man escaping a T. Rex whilst shouting, "Run like hell chaps - it's every man for himself!"

In a prehistoric sprint race a hairy deep voiced male, oozing testosterone, would be focused on one thing only and that is crossing the finishing line first by hook or by crook. In a prehistoric ladies race the participants might not focus entirely on winning the race. They would want to talk and compare boyfriends whilst running down the track and thinking of what colour to paint their nails, what to cook for dinner, what name to call their unborn children, Nabopolassar or Merodach Baladan or Artaxerxes Longimanus, if they might be boys, or Jezebel, Delilah or Deborah, if they might be girls. Ahh!! Deborah, the Maggie Thatcher of the ancient world with her little husband Barak (or was he Dennis?).

Anyway, had these ladies been hunting rather than just running a race they might, because of their superior multi-tasking ability, incorporate a technique called group dynamics, where they could discuss, chew over and debate how to snare a marauding Big Foot instead of running like hell like the men might.

So if they saw one of these in a forest:

A whole series of these would jump out from behind a tree.

They would say, "Boo!" and scream at the poor unsuspecting Big Foot. Then another, "Boo!", moving in a slightly different direction, then another. The Big Foot would get so mad it would not know which screaming woman to chase, particularly if it was male and could not multi-task. Then all the screaming ladies would all turn round and run away with Big Foot, puffing and snorting in hot pursuit. Then more would appear and eventually they would lead the poor thing into a trap, the floor would give way and he would fall into a deep pit. Then the women would spear it to death, complaining that their husbands seemed quite incapable of working out how to do such a simple task, remarking, "Who needs testosterone when we can do it equally well with oestrogen."

The animal kingdom has latched onto group dynamics because a pride of female lions hunt in unison with several attacking potential victims like an unsuspecting buffalo, urged on by a ravenous male lion from the bushes, who never thinks of lifting a paw to help. Always a couple of lions cover the back door just in case the quarry turns tail and runs backwards, in which case they would attack and kill from the rear. Of course the male lion would then roar madly, assisted by loads of surplus testosterone. Then he would muscle in for the first feed when all the work has been done by his wives. Typical! LOL

So there you have it.

Next time Freddie Bluelights considers the staggering fact that women talk three times as much as men. They say 20,000 words every day of their lives compared to only 7,000 for men. I say only 7,000 but I am very surprised it is as many as this, frankly, yet I am hardly surprised by the other statistic. LOL