The Long Road to Finding Out What’s Wrong With My Hip

I wasn’t really sure whether to write this post.

Not because there isn’t anything to say, but because when it comes to my hip, there is a lot to say. It has been such a long, frustrating, and honestly exhausting journey that trying to sum everything up in one blog post feels almost impossible.

I’m not going to go back through every single thing that has happened over the years because I’ve already written plenty of posts about my hip problems, the pain, the appointments, the setbacks, and everything that has come with it. If you’ve followed along with those posts, you’ll know it has been a bit of a saga, and there’s no real point in me repeating the same story all over again.

Instead, I wanted to write about where things are now, because after all the waiting, uncertainty, and wondering what was actually happening, I finally have an answer.

And more importantly, I finally have a plan.

Back in April, I had a CT scan on my hip. After everything that had happened before that point, it felt like a pretty important moment. The scan was going to hopefully give the doctors a much clearer picture of what was actually going on and explain why I was still dealing with so much pain.

Of course, once the scan was done, there was then the next stage of the process — waiting for the results. And waiting. And waiting.

It’s amazing how slowly time seems to move when you’re waiting for something that could potentially change your life. Every day becomes a case of wondering if today will be the day you get a phone call or a letter with some answers.

The frustrating thing about these situations is that you already know something isn’t right. You know your body, you know what you’re experiencing, and you know that the pain you’re dealing with isn’t normal. But until someone officially tells you what is happening, you’re left stuck in this strange middle ground where you know there is a problem but don’t know what the solution is.

Eventually, a couple of weeks ago, I finally got those results. The answer was osteoarthritis.

Finding out that I had osteoarthritis obviously wasn’t exactly the news I was hoping for. Nobody wants to hear that there is damage happening inside their body, especially when you know that damage is the reason you’ve been struggling for so long. But at the same time, there was also a feeling of relief. After all the uncertainty, all the questions, and all the wondering whether there was something more going on, I finally had an explanation. There was a reason for the pain. There was a reason things had become so difficult.

The scan showed that there is enough bone-on-bone contact in my hip to warrant being put on the waiting list for a hip replacement. A hip replacement. Those are words I never expected to hear at 40 years old.

When you think about someone needing a hip replacement, you usually picture somebody much older. It’s not something I ever imagined would become part of my life while I was still relatively young. I never expected to be having conversations about joint replacements, surgery, and recovery at this stage.

But life doesn’t always follow the plans you make for yourself. Sometimes things happen that you never expected, and you just have to deal with where you are. The strange thing is that, despite the shock of hearing those words, I’m actually quite positive about the decision to go ahead with it.

Of course, the idea of having a major operation is not something anyone takes lightly. There are worries that come with it, and I’m sure I’ll have plenty more thoughts about that when the time gets closer.

But when I really think about it, the alternative is staying exactly where I am now. More years of pain. More years of limiting what I do. More years of having to think carefully about every decision because I’m wondering how much pain I’ll be in afterwards. And honestly, I don’t want that. I want to get back to living.

I want to be able to make plans without immediately thinking about whether I’ll regret it later. I want to be able to go places, do things, and enjoy myself without constantly having that calculation running through my head about how much walking is involved, how long I’ll be standing, or whether I’ll spend the next few days paying for it.

That is probably the biggest thing people don’t always realise about long-term pain. It’s not just the pain itself. It’s how it slowly changes the way you live your life. It makes you hesitate. It makes you avoid things. It makes you think twice about things you would have done without a second thought before. I want the chance to move past that. I want to be able to do things because I want to do them, not because I’ve spent ten minutes working out whether my hip will allow it.

Of course, the downside is that I’m now back in another waiting game. After finally getting the answer, I’m now waiting to find out when the hip replacement will actually happen. I’ve been put on the waiting list, but there is still no date, no definite timeframe, and no idea when that phone call will come. And until that happens, I’m still in the same position I’ve been in for a while. I’m still dealing with daily pain. I’m still having to manage what I do. I’m still having to make decisions based around what my hip can handle rather than what I actually want to do. That’s the frustrating part. Mentally, getting the diagnosis feels like progress. It feels like I’ve finally reached the point where something is going to be done and there is a solution on the horizon. But physically, nothing has changed yet. The pain is still there. The limitations are still there. I’m still having to get through each day and manage things the best I can while waiting for the next step.

It’s a strange feeling being relieved and frustrated at the same time. I’m relieved that I finally know what is happening, but frustrated that the thing that could potentially improve things is still somewhere in the future.

For now, I’m just trying to focus on the positive side of things. After years of not knowing exactly what was wrong, I finally have an answer. I know what the problem is, I know what the solution is, and I know there is hopefully a point ahead where things can start getting better. I don’t know when that will be yet. I don’t know how long I’ll be waiting. But I do know that I’m no longer stuck wondering what is happening.

At 40 years old, I never expected to be preparing for a hip replacement. It definitely wasn’t part of the plan, and it’s not how I imagined this stage of my life would look. But if getting this done means I can get back to doing the things I enjoy without constantly worrying about pain, then it will be worth it. For now, the next part of the journey is simply waiting for that phone call.

Hopefully, it won’t be too long.