At the tender age of 46, our Head of Business Operations, Jon Keating, has been told he needs a hip replacement.
It’s not come as a surprise (more of that in a moment), but it is a little sooner than he thought.
That means Jon has become his very own case study – and in a series of blogs in the coming weeks and months, he is going to share his experiences of the NHS and his learnings about how our sector supports him to prepare for surgery, and more importantly, how it helps him recover and come back as JK mark 2 in 2025.
Read on as Jon explains how he comes to need a new hip and reflects on the first part of his journey that will culminate in surgery between Christmas and new year.
All I want for Christmas is my new front teeth. Nope, let’s change the words of that festive jingle…all I want for Christmas is my new left hip!
Why is that? To give you some context, I suffered something called a slipped epiphysis of the left femur (or in my dad’s simplistic view – your leg tried to fall off 😊) when I was 16. Therefore, I was told when I reached my 40s or 50s I could be susceptible to some complications.
As much as I hoped that wouldn’t come true, sadly it has. I’ve ignored the signs for a while now (as in a couple of years or more), but this year the discomfort has become that acute I finally realised I needed to get looked at.
Cue my first interaction with the NHS.
It was difficult to get a local GP appointment, but after some weeks of waiting I did manage a telephone appointment. In fairness, by looking at my medical history they immediately sent me for X-ray.
I was given a drop-in X-ray appointment with no need to book. I wasn’t aware – or told – that this was only available Monday to Friday. So, having initially turned up on a Saturday morning (before the Saturday sports injuries – from personal experience – started arriving), it meant a trip back the following Monday.
I was in and out of X-ray within about 30 minutes, which was excellent. It then took around two weeks for my results to appear in my NHS app, with a message to book a follow-up with my GP.
However, I couldn’t get a GP appointment for another two weeks, yet I was able to read the radiographer’s report.
To my horror, I had severe OA in both hips, and the report featured many other words that meant nothing to me.
It was going to take two weeks to find out what it all meant. So, as we’re probably all guilty of, I turned to Dr Google. Big mistake! That created more fear than the answers I was seeking.
The real horror for me, was the shock of both hips. I honestly feel little pain or discomfort in the right hip, so it was something of a shock that both were bad.
As our sector is now (bit-by-bit) becoming more connected to academics and healthcare professionals, I was able to call on a few people for some enlightenment, particularly Kris Sorenson, from Keele University, rather than waiting patiently for a fortnight, which is not in my DNA.
It turns out OA is the medical abbreviation for osteoarthritis (every day is a school day).
Anyway, this is how the conversation with Kris went.
“Jon, shall I sugarcoat this for you, or give it to you straight?”
“Straight please, no point in fluffing round the edges.”
“Ok, well your hip joints are pretty x@x@%! In short, you need a hip replacement on both hips, but high priority is the left.”
Holy cr%p! Wowsers! and many other expletives went off in my head.
I finally had my GP appointment – in summary confirming what I already knew. But some pain relief (particularly for sleeping) were prescribed, a physio appointment booked along with a referral to a hip specialist.
I have to credit the system that all these things moved quickly, seeing a physio about a week later and then my NHS referral to The Alexandra Hospital, in Cheadle, a couple of weeks later. Yes, a private hospital easing the NHS burden.
In that vacuum between X-ray report and GP appointment, I spoke to colleagues who encouraged me keep on exercising. I had lots of offers of help and support from exercise professionals (Michelle Childs, Jack Murphy, Kris and others) which has continued since.
Taking on some advice, I stopped running just to avoid some high impact exercise, at least until I had seen a consultant and/or physio – but more on that later. I have to say, my mental health took a hit immediately. Possibility versus reality are very different things to deal with.
Weirdly and maybe it’s a case of my mind doing tricks on me, since having the X-ray the pain has significantly increased. That’s certainly my perception and therefore my reality. The pain and discomfort has gone from bad to worse.
The message from the physio was to keep on doing what you’re doing. And, by the way, we don’t consider running to be high impact. Avoid football and racquet sports etc, where you’re twisting and turning rapidly. A run around the streets or on a treadmill will be fine.
There’s a definite message here for those carrying health conditions or managing pain. Staying active is key.
But what struck me as I waited for the physio was the lack of information about that crucial message. No advertisements, posters or links to exercise classes, local facilities and services that could help. No personal actions that could help manage pain etc. Neither was I asked what I had access to, which I thought was a big omission.
Once at the Alexandra to see a consultant, I was told I had three options:
My response was to ask the expert which option he would choose in my place.
“Well, having looked at your X-ray, you only really have one choice and that’s option three. So, let’s look at dates and get you booked in.”
I could have been booked in for surgery about six weeks later, but I couldn’t commit to this. Instead, a Christmas ‘treat’ awaits me.
What can I do to manage my pain and be as ready for surgery as possible? I enquired.
The reply was to keep doing all the things I am doing but then – mixed messages alert – the consultant advised against running – it’s too high impact!
It’s a strange feeling, I’m not particularly a big running fan but over the last couple of years I have taken to it, and the health benefits from it have been immense. Being told you shouldn’t do something actually makes me miss it and makes me want to go for a run.
Since I’ve stopped I can see from my Garmin watch my VO2 max decreasing, but I guess I’ll get this back in the new year with body parts upgraded.
Where the consultant and physio have been consistent is in promoting Pilates, swimming and cycling. From personal experience, once I’ve done these activities I do get a huge natural pain relief for a while later.
And in a repeat of my physio experience, there no questions, no promotion and no signage about what I could access or what is available locally.
Is this where we as a sector need to be making proactive links? That is, it’s on us to forge these connections and make them happen rather than waiting to be ‘invited’.
I continue to be as active as I can be, sometimes pushing a little bit beyond the pain barrier. Maybe the ex-sports person inside me, still has the ‘no pain, no gain’ attitude circling inside my head. What I do firmly believe is the more I do now, then the speedier recovery will be in the new year.
I can see that there are some areas where patient messaging could be improved, but in truth I cannot complain about the speed with which all of this has happened.
I feel lucky and grateful to be in this position. I’m in such a superb place with such a support network around me to help me through this.
But it does leave me pondering what this would be like for those less fortunate souls, without access to the people, facilities and classes etc that I have at my disposal.
It’s a tough journey with support, so without it, and if I was older, less mobile, more sedentary and many other typical challenges for those people with this common ailment it would be incredibly difficult.
Isn’t this where whole system change can come into its own?
Watch this space as I report a little more about my journey.
