Never in a million years would I have imagined my life without pain after the surgery I had this past Saturday, but thanks be to God - I do.

By Trish Morgan
For the News Tribune
Never in a million years would I have imagined my life without pain after the surgery I had this past Saturday, but thanks be to God - I do.
Last week was packed full of pre-op: xray, CT scan, labs and repeat labs, EKG, nuclear stress test and stopping my current medications routine. The scariest test of all was the one held last Friday - the nuclear stress test.
This test was ordered because my EKG showed some abnormalities compared to the EKG one year ago. The results from this test would determine whether my scheduled surgery would go on as planned.
I won't lie; I was scared. Scared that there could be something wrong with my heart that would postpone this much-needed surgery. As it would turn out, the test confirmed a very strong heart - strong enough to hold up under the rigors of my scheduled surgery.
Saturday was the much-anticipated day - the day when an old arthritic hip would be replaced by a titanium prosthesis. Ruined and rattled with osteoarthritis, my 62-year-old hip would be removed and replaced with a brand-spankin'-new apparatus by a team of orthopedic medical personnel.
My hospital stay at Ruby Memorial in Morgantown was quite uneventful. I recovered nicely, and in my opinion, so much better than I anticipated. For you see, I have been suffering with level nine pain for over two years...yes, two years. Two years with such torturous, unbearable pain. The pain was so unrelenting, and frankly, it was hard to imagine a life without it.
So here I sit - catching up with my messages, emails, Facebook notifications and posts - and not feeling those familiar pains resonating through the right leg. No more catches in my giddy-up, no more burning, stabbing pains deep in my groin, and no more piriformis syndrome and sciatica from morning until night. The marvels of medical advancements.
I had two knee replacements in 2015 - six months apart - and that recovery was just rough. Painful, physical therapy for 12 weeks, and that awful middle-of-the-night pain that would wake me up crying with it. Oh, how I remember! But, with this surgery? Nothing even close.
My feelings right now? I am so grateful...grateful for the hundreds of folks who added me to their church prayer lists. Grateful that WVU has such an accomplished level of certified personnel to address patients' needs. Grateful to God almighty - who watches over the tiniest of sparrows and the most unworthy of us all.
By Christmas, it is very possible that I will have graduated from walker, to cane, and then to no walking assistance. Those are goals worth working toward - well within reach, my friends. Time to get back in the groove.
Until next week...