Alright friends, I have to admit, I've been holding out on you. I've been keeping this bit of juicy gossip under my hat for some time now, but I really can't keep a secret any longer. It's time for me to share some big big big big news... I'm having a hip replacement! In less… Continue reading A Shiny New Hip
I can't tell you how many times I've heard "you're too young to have hip problems!" in my life. People are so very predictable. I'm not sure where this notion originated that hip problems are only for the elderly. People can have all types of problems. We all have problems. Problems, problems, problems all day… Continue reading On Being an Adult with a “Childhood Disease”
Of course, the casts didn't work. My hip never re-grew into a nice, smooth ball and socket, like the doctors intended. Even the leg braces they put me into after the casts didn't work. Those highly uncomfortable plastic and metal leg braces strapped around my thighs, which I wore faithfully for two years, which made… Continue reading I’m a little angry right now.
Anyone who has ever been in a plaster cast for any length of time knows that the day you finally get to have your cast removed is, in that moment, the BEST day of your life. It's something that you MORE than look forward to; it's practically a re-birth. I was in a body cast… Continue reading The tale of two body casts
The second level of Shriner's Hospital was the inpatient floor, where children from all over the world came to call home while they were being evaluated or treated for various physical disabilities. Between the ages of seven and twelve, I stayed there overnight more times than I can count. The memories bring up a lot… Continue reading The Second Floor
I remember the long drives back and forth to the hospital. Slumped in the back seat, watching the power lines dance by, pole by pole, through the window of my parents’ station wagon. The endless swoops of wire, punctuated periodically by trees, birds, and traffic lights. I flipped the tape in my Sony Walkman and… Continue reading The First Floor
Sometimes it's best to start at the beginning. I was a child of the 80's. My earliest memories are filtered with a reddish sepia hue; faces smiling, hands reaching out to pick me up, and being surrounded always by toys, dolls, and musical instruments. The sweet sounds of my dad's guitar playing and my mom's… Continue reading Before Perthes