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Hip Replacement |
We both had pre-surgical episodes with wheelchair
assistance needs. We both had genetic
and familial tendencies towards joint problems, and at least one more.
We both received a post-surgical handicap placard.
I can’t remember if my mother’s was red or blue, because
she continued to have problems and eventually had a knee replaced as well, so
the placard I remember was a blue one.
My post-surgical placard was red, with an expiration date of four
months. I presume the rationale was that
if I were still undergoing formal therapy after four months they would allow me
an extension and if I weren’t, then I should be walking as part of my long-term
recovery.
Neither Mary nor I are great walkers. Me, because I was a thirty year runner and
still proudly wear the gold runner around my neck that I gave myself for
running 10,000 miles. When I could no
longer rum, and realized that the activity was probably aggravating my hip
problem, I found it painful both physically and emotionally to walk. Mary, because she says the house we live in,
with its thirty-four steps from the bottom of our entrance to the top floor
where her study is, constitutes her exercise program. Since she weighs essentially the same as when
I married her more than fifty years ago, who am I to argue?
My defense of that position is a little weaker, not
only because my study is eight steps short of hers, but also because she visits
the washing machine, dryer, and garage refrigerator more often than I do. However, I do go more regularly to my car, parked in that same garage
than she does, so I’m not totally fooling myself.
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red (portable) placard |
My surgical recovery was fantastic and my mobility a
year post-op received compliments from the PA, but I had two of the worst bouts
of gout that I ever had while recovering .
I now take medication and even subscribe to a daily cherry juice regime as
my daughter-in-law suggests for me and her father, but I still have times when
taking the first step is a major accomplishment and pain is a common visitor.
So, when my four months ran out I sought out my
Primary Care Physician and got a six-month extension
As the ninth month of recovery came closer. I caught
hints that Mary found our ease in finding a parking place comfortable and asked
my PCP for another extension. . I joked
that I was afraid if I did not, Mary would find a way to cripple me in my
sleep. He said, “Why don’t you get a blue one like everyone else?”

It has always seemed strange to me that the handicap
parking spots at church fill up every week so quickly. Wouldn’t you think some of those handicapped
would be cured after a time?
When my mother passed away, one of my sons inherited
her car and, as I passed it on, I thought about whether I inherited her
placard. Of course the answer was no, but
I wondered why, since I had her hip replacement in the box with her ashes and
transported that to Arlington where she joined my father, why couldn’t I have
parked in handicap at the cemetery?
I hope you will join me for my next Post. I’ll share with you some changes I have
observed in the Annual Evaluation process since I retired.
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