Arthritis has been part of my life for years.

Like a lot of chronic problems, it didn’t happen all at once. There wasn’t one morning when I woke up and suddenly couldn’t walk.

It was gradual.

A little more pain.

A little more difficulty walking.

A limp.

Then a cane.

And eventually, a walker.

I have arthritis in both hips, but my right hip is by far the worst.

The simplest way my doctors have described the right one is:

Bone on bone.

There’s essentially no longer the cushioning there that a healthy hip joint should have. With osteoarthritis, the cartilage in the joint progressively wears away, and in severe cases that can eventually result in bone rubbing against bone. 

I can tell you from experience:

It hurts exactly as pleasant as it sounds.

It Didn’t Start With a Walker

That’s probably the part of this story that’s easiest to forget.

I didn’t go from walking normally to using a walker overnight.

For a long time, I just dealt with the pain.

Then I started limping.

You compensate.

You change how you walk.

You figure out which movements hurt and which ones don’t.

Without really thinking about it, your entire way of moving starts changing.

Eventually, the limp wasn’t enough.

I moved to a cane.

The cane helped for a while, but as the arthritis continued progressing, there came a point where I needed more support.

Now I use a walker or rollator.

Looking backward, I can almost chart the progression of my arthritis by what I needed to get around:

Walking → Limping → Cane → Walker

That’s not a progression I ever expected to make.

What Does “Bone on Bone” Actually Mean?

The hip is a ball-and-socket joint.

Normally, cartilage covers the surfaces of the bones and allows the joint to move smoothly.

With osteoarthritis, that cartilage deteriorates over time. As it becomes increasingly damaged, movement can become painful and stiff. When the cartilage is severely worn away, bone can essentially rub against bone. 

That’s where my right hip has ended up.

My left hip has arthritis too.

It isn’t good.

It’s just that compared with the right one, the left hip sometimes seems like the good hip.

That’s a pretty low bar.

I’ve Tried to Avoid Getting Here

It isn’t as though my first response to hip pain was:

“Okay, let’s replace the thing.”

I’ve tried different approaches over the years hoping to control the pain and keep functioning.

One of them was radiofrequency nerve ablation.

The idea was to target nerves involved in transmitting the pain signals.

I tried it.

It didn’t provide the lasting relief I was hoping for.

I also tried stem cell injections.

Again, I was hoping it might provide some relief and allow me to keep going without surgery.

It didn’t work for me either.

That’s an important distinction.

I’m not saying those treatments will or won’t work for somebody else. I’m only describing my experience.

For me, neither one changed where this was eventually heading.

Arthritis Changes More Than Your Hip

Pain is the obvious part.

But one thing I don’t think people appreciate until they’ve experienced severe arthritis is how much it changes everyday life.

Walking through a grocery store becomes difficult.

Walking through a large store can become impossible.

Standing for too long hurts.

Sitting in the wrong chair hurts.

Getting comfortable at night can be difficult.

Sometimes even finding a position where the hip isn’t screaming at me becomes a challenge.

Then there’s something else.

You start planning your life around distance.

Where am I parking?

How far is the entrance?

How much walking is involved once I get inside?

Is there somewhere to sit?

Can I use my walker?

Do I have enough energy to get back to the car?

Those weren’t questions I used to ask.

Now they’re part of leaving the house.

The Walker Helps — But It Also Creates Another Problem

The walker gives me stability.

I need it.

But there’s an interesting complication in my situation.

I also have heart failure.

Using a walker isn’t effortless.

I’m supporting myself with my arms. I’m pushing the walker. I’m walking while moving another piece of equipment along with me.

That requires effort.

And when exertion is already difficult, that additional work matters.

So I have two problems working against each other.

My hip says:

You need the walker.

My heart says:

Why are you making me work harder?

It’s a perfect example of something I’ve written about before:

Chronic illnesses don’t exist in separate little boxes.

What helps one problem can make another problem more difficult to manage.

“Just Walk More” Isn’t Always That Simple

Walking is good for you.

I understand that.

I want to move.

I want to exercise.

I want to rebuild my stamina.

But there’s a big difference between knowing that exercise is beneficial and having a body capable of doing it.

Walking hurts because of my hip.

Using the walker requires additional effort.

Exertion can leave me exhausted.

Sometimes I have to stop and recover after walking a relatively short distance. Especially recently with the nearly passing out episodes.

That doesn’t mean I’ve given up on moving.

It means I’ve had to adjust what movement looks like for me.

And that’s something I wish more people understood about chronic illness.

Sometimes doing your best doesn’t look very impressive from the outside.

Losing Mobility Changes Your Independence

This may be the hardest part.

I’ve always been someone who would just do things myself.

Need something from the store?

Go get it.

Something breaks?

Go to Home Depot, get the part and fix it.

Walk around a grocery store?

I wouldn’t have even considered that an activity.

Now I have to think about all of those things differently.

Fortunately, I’ve found ways around some of it.

I can order things online.

I can use grocery pickup.

I can drive.

I can use my walker when I need to go somewhere.

I’m still doing things.

I’m just doing them differently.

And learning to accept that has probably been as difficult as dealing with the physical pain.

There Is Hopefully an End to This Part of the Story

My right hip has reached the point where the next step is a total hip replacement.

That sounds like a major event.

And it is.

But at this point, I’m looking forward to it.

That’s probably a strange thing to say about having a joint surgically replaced.

But after years of progressively worsening pain, limping, using a cane and eventually needing a walker, the possibility of being able to walk with less pain sounds pretty damn good.

Hip replacement is a recognized option when severe hip osteoarthritis causes significant pain and loss of function despite other treatment approaches. 

I’m realistic about it.

I’m not expecting to wake up after surgery and run a marathon.

Actually, let’s be honest.

I wasn’t running a marathon before the arthritis either.

But I’d love to walk through a grocery store again.

I’d love to walk into Home Depot and get the part I need.

I’d love to take a walk without calculating how far I can make it before I need to stop.

Those sound like little things.

They’re not little things when you lose them.

❤️ Greg’s Take

One of the strange things about chronic illness is that you don’t always notice how much you’ve lost while you’re losing it.

You adapt.

First you limp.

Then you grab a cane.

Then the cane isn’t enough, so you get a walker.

You order your groceries instead of walking through the store.

You order the part online instead of going to Home Depot.

You find another way.

And eventually that new way becomes normal.

My arthritis didn’t take away my mobility in one dramatic moment.

It took it a little bit at a time.

That’s probably what bothers me most when I look back at it.

But I’m still adapting.

I’m still moving.

And hopefully, I’m getting closer to the point where I can start taking some of that mobility back.

I’ve tried treatments that didn’t work.

I’ve lived with the pain.

I’ve progressed from walking normally to a limp, a cane and finally a walker.

Now I’m getting ready for the next step.

A new hip.

I’ve already had the heart plumbing replaced.

Apparently now we’re moving on to the suspension.

At this rate, I’m eventually going to be mostly aftermarket parts.