Loss

Steroid injection is an injection of cortisone into the joint capsule that reduces inflammation and swelling and therefore pain. An interventional radiologist performs this procedure under fluoroscopy meaning they light you up on TV as they place the needle right in your joint. Pain relief comes immediately (supposedly) and should last for at least 3-6 months. I was optimistic as I have had a similar procedure in my shoulder and have not had pain there since.

Dr. S. set me up with his guys at Stanford Medicine Clinic, Drs M & B. Dr. M was still being attended by Dr. B for the procedure. The procedure was simple. They would inject lidocaine in my groin area to numb the site, stick a very long needle into my hip joint, inject steroids or "juice" as I call it, and I would walk out of the room without pain. It was not only easy, but very cool to see my hip on TV.

It should be mentioned that throughout this process, there has been an air of "skepticism". I am 43 years of age. So denial is not only alive and well for me, but for just about everyone around me as well. Most 43 year old women do not have hip arthritis and joint degeneration. However, most women my age did not hurl themselves down mountains for the first half of their lives, break their pelvis in 4 places by hitting a pole at 60 miles per hour and then exacerbate the process by running marathons & triathlons, backpacking through Nepal and Peru with 50lbs on their backs, riding the California death ride and delivering two children. The five years of Co-ed soccer didn't help either. Yes, I'm right footed.

Dr. M: "Your joint space looks pretty good. Aren't you kind of young to have hip arthritis?"

Me: "Yeah, but I've taken every opportunity to abuse my hips including breaking it when I was 20."

Dr. M: "That'll do it."

Me: "Yep."

When I walked out of the radiology suite, I still had a "twinge" of pain, but there was definitely 90% relief of pain. I thought to myself, if I could make this last a couple of months, I could just get one of these every 3 months, and put that whole hip replacement off for at least 5 years or so. When my pain returned 3 weeks later, my optimism turned to mild panic. I asked Dr. S about my options.

The answer came in the form of what I call "the old girl" speech. It was dabbled with phrases like, "at our age" or "consider a job that is more 'administrative' that doesn't require you to be on your feet as much....", and the death sentence, "you may not be able to play soccer, but you can maybe play goalie...." Being a healthcare professional, I understand that these are hard words to "gently" deliver to a regularly active female in the "prime" of her life. I tried not to disrespect Dr. S. with my overdramatized, spoiled, "but-I'm-special", reaction of tears and foot-stomping. Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross outlined the stages of grief in 1969 in her book Death and Dying and I went through each one before Dr. S's eyes.

Denial: "Are you sure it's Arthritis?"

Bargaining: "Maybe you could just TRY to fix it. I just want to play soccer for a few more years..."

Anger: "Doctors!" harrumph.

Depression: [Tears, feelings of hopelessness]

Acceptance: Time to make a plan.

I regressed back to tears on the drive home. Seemed effective given the choices.... I live approximately 3 hours from the Stanford Clinics so I had some time to contemplate my next move. What does every girl do when her life comes to a dramatic, life-deafening halt and slaps her across the face? She calls her best childhood friend. Not me. I called my friend Eva.

(To be continued....)