A project with heart…

What do you think of these fabulous labels, produced by Katrina who runs our local ‘knit and natter’ group?

Hatherleigh Hooker

Made with Love by a Hatherleigh Hooker!

Quite special, aren’t they?  This little label was put to very heartfelt use this week.  My bestest friend, my lovely bridesmaid, has breast cancer. We have known one another since we got stuck in a cupboard together at the age of 7.  Our parents discovered us after a couple of hours, and we emerged unscathed, but friends for life.  I have no idea how to say how much I care, without sounding pathetic.  There’s no unpatronising way to say I want to wrap her up in love and make it better.

I can’t do that – but I did find a little project that might help, and I wanted to share it because I thought there might be some people out there who would find it useful and inspiring.

The heart pillow project was developed by a breast care nurse who wanted to make life post-mastectomy more comfortable for her patients.  It’s a specially designed pillow in the shape of a heart, which patients can place so that the ‘dip’ of the heart is under their arm.  This eases discomfort associated with post-operative swelling and makes life more comfortable in bed, in the car and so on.

Even for a total beginner for me, it wasn’t hard to make.  It takes just two fat quarters, and I used two different patterened fabrics in 100% cotton.

Pretty pretty fabric

Pretty pretty fabric

So here is my effort.  It’s not perfect, but it’s made with all the love in the world:

Heart Pillow!

Heart Pillow!

Have you spotted the deliberate mistake yet?  Yes, I sewed the label on upside-down (doh).

At least it's readable when the pillow is under your arm..

At least it’s readable when the pillow is under your arm..

Heart pillow projects are starting up in lots of places, with the aim of supplying as many breast cancer patients as possible with pillows made with love.  Organising networks of people to make pillows and donate fabric seems to be key to all of this.  I wonder – is this something that UK craft bloggers can help with?  I know there are lots of crafty people out there (much, much craftier than me).

I can’t do the breast cancer Race for Life – hell, I can’t even walk it!  But I can sew (badly) for life.  Could you sew a pillow every once in a while?  If you’d like to help me think about how we can work on this together, let me know.

Advertisements

6 month check-up – all good!

On 1st Feb 2013, it was 6 months and 1 day since Mr Witt sawed and chiselled his expert way through my pelvis and pinned me back together during my RPAO.  And of course, the only way to celebrate this is with an X-ray at UCLH (apparently my second home).  One of the most exciting parts of this adventure was travelling on the London Underground – I haven’t been mobile enough to do that for years! Now I can cope with just one crutch, to support my left (unoperated) hip.

And the good news is, everything on the surface is healed (see below for non-gruesome scar pic) and on the X-ray everything looks fine!  One of Mr Witt’s registrars showed me just how much more coverage my hip socket has following the operation – no wonder I’m getting less pain on that side when I walk these days!  There is one fracture which had to be shifted so far that it’s unlikely the two sides will unite fully – and apparently this is quite common and not a problem as it’s a non-weight-bearing part of the pelvis.  But the hip is officially fixed.  Woop!

We discussed one niggle that has been frustrating me for the last few weeks – when I try to do certain yoga poses (bridges, clamshell exercises), I get an intense pain low down in my pelvis, kind of between my butt and my pubic bone (nice).  It’s impossible to point out without looking extremely rude, so that was kind of embarassing.  Anyway, it’s so sore that I have to stop whatever I’m doing, and it takes several days to recover again – during which time it hurts when I walk, go up stairs, do my physiotherapy, turn over in bed  – well, during everything.

Mr Witt and his team told me that this is reasonably common and can be caused by a tiny stress fracture in the pelvis – but on a non-weight-bearing part which is why I can’t feel it when I walk around (unless it’s after I attempt said bridges, clamshells etc). They inspected my X-rays thoroughly and found no evidence of a fracture, and so they’ve put it down to a muscle (probably hamstring) which is rubbing or catching on one of the fractured sites.    They gave me more hamstring stretches to do, and told me that if it doesn’t improve in 6-8 weeks, they can give me a cortisone injection under sedation, to ease it.  This is something that happens quite often post-PAO, and apparently cortisone tends to sort it out for good.

So, that leaves Hip Number 2 – the left one!  Mr Witt put me on the waiting list for my LPAO at the same appointment, so I just have to cross my fingers I won’t have to wait too long.  I suspect August will be an interesting month for the second year running.

In the meantime, here is a picture of my scar, on its 6-month birthday.

IMG_1443

Stripes – I’ve earned a few..

I’m quite proud of it – it’s fading to a pretty silvery colour, and sits right along the natural crease in my hip joint.  It’s invisible under my knickers or a bikini.  And it’s only about 4 inches long.  The little screw bumps above the incision are not really visible in this picture, but I’m rather fond of them too.  It’s nice to have a reminder of the operation that is helping me walk again.  Almost like people get tattoos to mark important times in their life.  Tattoos aren’t my thing, but I like to think I’ve earned this particular stripe!

PAO recovery week 11: Sciatica sucks

I haven’t been posting too much this week – my Way of the Dress blogging routine has been completely upset by the recent setback in my recovery. A week ago, I discussed it with my GP who decided a new X-ray would be sensible. I ended up waiting in A&E whilst three different orthopaedic doctors reviewed the new X-ray and compared it with one from my 6 week check up, which had been sent down from UCLH. This was necessary because the X-ray showed lots of fractures, but the doctors couldn’t tell which ones had happened during the PAO and which ones might be new – how reassuring!

In the end the consensus was that there were no fresh fractures, but Mr Witt has agreed to review the X-rays to be sure. In the meantime, my physiotherapist’s best bet is that my central nervous system has been aggravated by the trauma of the surgery and is reacting to the increasing levels of activity and weight bearing by responding more strongly to pain. This is why the pain moves down my leg from my hip – it’s traveling along the sciatic nerve. I’ve been banned from physio and told to go back to using two crutches. Grrr – I’m so frustrated!

In the meantime, here are some sciatica-busting moves I’ve found useful…

1) Bouncing gently on a gym ball to keep my core engaged and stop my back muscles from getting weaker

2) The ‘tennis ball’ sciatica treatment as recommended by many Hip Women!

Lie on your back with your knees bent. Place a tennis ball under the small of your back and using your hips, manoeuvre it slowly around your sacroiliac joints until you find a tender spot. Then relax against the tennis ball and you’ll start to feel the pain dissipate a little.

3) Very gentle hamstring stretches: the sciatic nerve runs down the hamstring so by stretching the hamstring you can release pressure on this nerve. I was taught one gentle exercise that I can do whilst sitting:

Sit on the front edge of a dining chair, with your heels on the floor but keeping your knees relatively straight. Holding onto the edge of the chair, lean forward from your pelvis, keeping your back straight. You should feel a stretch at the back of your legs. When the stretch becomes more comfortable, lean forward a little more and hold for up to 20 seconds. You can do this one leg at a time if it’s more comfortable – just keep one leg bent at the knee, and stretch the other one.

4) Lots of yoga ‘cat’ poses, moving into ‘downward dog’ when I feel able to.

Like this:

…and not like this!

Don’t try this at home – or with your cat.

Downward dog – I can do it JUST LIKE THIS. Ahem. Photo from http://www.yogajournal.com

5) Saving the best till last – this exercise was the most helpful in reducing my pain levels.

Lie on your back with knees bent, and let your knees fall gently to one side, then lift them back to centre. Let them fall to the other side, then back to centre. Repeat until horrible nauseating pain has gone away.

Reclining twist – from http://www.diveintampabay.com

After a week or two of awful pain, I’m now on reduced levels of painkillers and starting to walk around the house without crutches – although with a little less confidence than before. My next physio appointment is tomorrow so hopefully I’ll be starting a more comprehensive rehabilitation programme again soon. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, and sending a BIIIG thank you to the hip women who helped me through a wretched couple of weeks. Being happy with wonky hips would be a lot harder without you!

PAO Recovery Week 10: A Setback.

Dammit – things were going so well!  Until a week or so ago, I was making great progress.  As I wrote in my previous PAO update, I was beginning to do some weight bearing physiotherapy , trying to move away from crutches, and generally enjoying being in much less pain and much more mobile.  So much so, that I think I got too confident and…oops.

*Sniff*

I was trying to do some one legged bridges (raising myself up on my operated leg) and it felt sore.  Well, I thought to myself, physiotherapy exercises do hurt.  Every physiotherapy exercise I’ve ever been given has hurt when I first tried it.  So I did a few more.  And that night, when I went to bed, I noticed a soreness down the side / back of my right thigh.  It hurt when I bear weight through my leg, when I squat, when I sit down, when I stand up – and over the next few days, it didn’t get any better.

After an uncomfortable hydrotherapy session I decided to take it up with my GP, who sent me to the Accident and Emergency Department for an urgent X-Ray.  Three different orthopaedic doctors compared the X-ray with the previous ones taken at my 6-week checkup, and decided that there were no changes between the two.  This is good news, because it means my adventurousness hasn’t resulted in a fracture.  Blood tests revealed nothing unusual so infection is also ruled out – hooray.   Unfortuately though, it has left me with a series of guesses as to what is causing the problem.  Sciatica?  Bursitis?  Iliotibial band?  I’m not sure.

Ouch…what have I done?

But still – meh.  In terms of pain and mobility levels I have regressed weeks.  I am back on two crutches, need serious amounts of codeine to help me sleep through the pain, and can’t sit, stand, walk or sleep for long. And I’m still at a loss as to what is causing the pain.  It isn’t localised to my joint – in fact the mobility in my hip joint is continuing to improve.   This pain radiates down the back and outside of my thigh, even as far as the outside of my knee.   And because I don’t know what the matter is, I don’t know how to try and fix it.  I’ve been told to lay off the physio and wait to see if things improve without any weight bearing or other kind of aggravation.  Grrrrrr!

Thankfully I have another physio appointment in two days, so I am really hoping for a) some answers and b) some exercises that can help me reduce the pain.  I feel like I’ve retreated back to a codeine-induced zombified haze, and I just don’t want it to be like this any more. Last week, I was getting excited about  returning to work soon, and now I’ve been signed off for at least another four weeks.

Are there any PAO-ers or ‘hip women’ out there who can give me some advice?  Does this sound like anything you experienced or have heard of?  I’d be so grateful if you could help me get rid of this pain and put me back on the track to becoming the bionic woman (minus one-legged bridges, which I may very well never attempt again.  Ever).

Week 9 post-PAO – hydrotherapy rules

9 weeks into my PAO recovery and things are definitely looking up!  I have been working hard at the physio and am now happily doing exercises that I found impossible in week 6 – and more besides.  My physio has been really helpful at finding me new exercises that challenge me (for which read: that hurt like hell). For the first day or two, they are beyond difficult, but gradually I am finding myself getting stronger and stronger.  It’s a small difference which I can’t notice day by day, but when I look back each week, the improvement is undeniable.

My scar is continuing to heal and my mum bought me this stuff:

I am bio-oiling the hell out of myself.

I have no idea if it works, but it smells innocuous and feels nice when I smooth it into the incision and surrounding area.  My GP friend suggested I try it, so I will continue to report back on the healing process.

Some things I can now do:

  1. Stand on my operated leg for  about 5 wobbly seconds
  2. Do a few dips on my operated leg whilst holding onto a chair or whilst using my crutch for balance
  3. Lift my operated leg until it’s perpendicular to my body (when lying down) and hold it there quite happily
  4. Walk around inside the house without a crutch – albeit with a significant limp, and very slowly.  The more I walk, the more noticeable the limp is.  And in the morning and evening it hurts because it all feels so stiff.
  5. Bring my operated leg up and cross my ankle over my other knee so my legs are in a ‘number four ‘position.
  6. Sleep on my operated side for several hours
  7. I had a teeny little practice driving again yesterday – hooray!  I wouldn’t want to drive more than a few miles yet, but it felt good to get behind the wheel and to practice some emergency stops / harsh braking to reassure myself I could do it if necessary.

These are small triumphs that please me every day.  I am less reliant on painkillers but still take paracetomol (and sometimes codeine) before heading off to physio or hydrotherapy.  This week at physio I spent 5 minutes on a bike and discovered that if I worked at it, the limp I have when using one crutch will go away.  At hydrotherapy I was given some very tailored exercises that will help me with the things I still find difficult (reaching to put shoes, socks, jeans, underwear on, lifting my knee up in front of my hip, pushing down with my heel).

The issue with hydro is that people assume it’s a lovely spa treatment and offer up comments like ‘ooh, lucky you!’.  Unfortunately, this isn’t the case – at my hydro session, it feels more like getting into a warm bath with your physio and perhaps one other patient, and splashing about doing exercises that hurt you but which you are assured will aid your recovery.  That said, it is blissful to let the warm water take the strain off my body for a while – and so freeing to be able to walk in chest deep water with no limp and no significant pain.  I am always a bit reluctant to come out of the pool after my time is up, but it is exhausting work!

In general, the tiredness is where I feel I am getting stuck at the moment.  If I go out and I’m out of my comfort zone, I get tired after a couple of hours.  The pain creeps up on me and my brain gets all foggy with tiredness and soreness.  It’s this which makes me feel I’m not ready to go back to work yet.

I’ve also noticed that I’m continuing to have some very mild hair loss.  It started during week 2 post-op.  Every time I brush or wash my hair, I lose about a handful’s worth (scrunched up) of strands from the root.  I also shed strands of hair over the carpets, etc (nice).  I’m not too worried about this – I have a lot of hair, and I’ve heard this can happen after major surgery or a physical trauma.    To be honest, there are so many people who lose all their hair through chemotherapy, etc, that I can’t really get upset about this.

On the plus side, I’m getting quite fond of my new ‘dinosaur spines’, as I’m calling the screw bumps just above the incision.  They are starting to become more obvious – you can see in this picture.  They do press into tight clothing like jeans, but wearing dresses is proving to be an easy alternative for now.

‘Dinosaur spines’ – I actually quite like them. I am weird.

The screws will be taken out with the ones from next year’s LPAO, probably in 2014.  That seems like a looong time away, so perhaps it’s a good thing I’m happy with them.  They make me feel like a bionic woman!  Watch this space for future feats of athleticism…I’ll just have a quite nap first!

PAO surgery and recovery – week 3

PAO Recovery Days 14 – 21

This is where the recovery starts to get interesting.  During this week, my mobility and stamina noticeably increase.  I don’t need an afternoon nap every single day. My ability to complete the physiotherapy exercises and stretches really improves.  I am sore and stiff, but I find that I can lie more comfortably, sit for longer, and when sitting, reach for things like the telephone or a glass of water without feeling an uncomfortable pull in my hip.  Hooray!

Some of my friends drop in at random points during this week, and we sit and chat for a couple of hours.  The normality is heavenly.  I learn to pace myself – I spend the morning in bed, and get up in the afternoon, or vice versa.    My appetite is returning, as is my ability to read and hold a plot line in my head.  I become a little more confident on crutches, and putting my right foot down at the ‘wrong moment’ becomes less of a drama and more of an annoyance.

This week I begin to wonder when I can start physio.  I start to feel that I can complete the exercises given to me in hospital competently enough to progress to..what?  I chase up my physiotherapy department at my local hospital – but grrr, despite having been sent a copy of a referral letter from UCLH, they are clueless.   ‘We’ll call you back’, they say.  They don’t.  This is really frustrating.  I decide just to up the repetitions and frequency of the physio exercises I have been doing so far, until I get an appointment.

On the frustration front, I start to wonder if I am progressing as quickly as some other PAO-ers.  I read blogs where other people have felt like going miles on their crutches by week 3 – not me.  I can just about manage to get to the end of the driveway and back – and this feels like a big step for me!  I need a big lie down afterwards.  Reading about the experiences of lots of other ‘hip women’ on their eponymous Yahoo Group gives me a lot of confidence and helps me to realise that my recovery is actually pretty good – not the fastest, but by no means the slowest!  I try to bear in mind the smiley physiotherapist girls from UCLH who kept reminding me that PAO-ers are by nature a rather competitive bunch, and that I don’t need to make a race out of this.  A PAO is a tough operation, but I can’t help it!  I am so eager to reduce the pain and improve my mobility – or at least, have the energy to deal with the mobility that’s left.

Here’s a weird thing that really helped me push through the pain barrier that prevented me moving from lying in bed to sitting on the sofa.  You think sitting on the sofa doesn’t need stamina?  Believe me, I needed lots of it in week 3.  Anyway, one of my friends suggested I try an Xbox game to relieve boredom and take my mind off being still all the time.  They recommended a game called Skyrim.  Hmm, I thought, it looks a bit dungeons and dragons-y.  This is not normally my thing.

Skyrim – it’s not what you think. Well it is, actually, but you might like it anyway..

But hey – I can’t move, I can’t go anywhere, and I’m too tired to knit or concentrate on small print in a book.  Surprisingly, this game was the most absorbing thing I found to do.  I’m no game expert – in fact, it took me ages to work out how to prevent my little elf character from running into walls, but once that was done, I had a lovely time collecting flowers, making potions and generally faffing about.  The game is supposed to be about killing dragons, and carrying out quests, but I think I’ll save that for later.

Dragon problems? Nothing compared to a PAO, honest..

My youngest (step)daughter (8) is most disappointed in my lack of dragon fighting ability.  ‘HipOptimist’, she says.  ‘Look over there.  A dragon!  Kill it!  With your big axe!’

‘Nahhh’, I say.  ‘Why don’t I just catch this beautiful blue butterfly instead?  Look, isn’t it pretty?

‘DRAGON!’ she yells.  ‘Get your bow and arrow out!  You need to kill the dragon or you’ll never level up!’.

Oh dear.  She is right, isn’t she?   You can tell that the smiley-but-demanding physio terrorists are nothing new to me.  I get this all the time.

I’m not a natural dragon-fighter.  However, I am not a natural sofa-surfer either and well, needs must.  When I’m feeling a bit better, I suspect I might well go back to knitting, gardening and baking.  But if you can’t find something to occupy yourself on the sofa and daytime TV just doesn’t cut it for you, you might find yourself resorting to this.  You have been warned!

PAO surgery and recovery update – week 2

Days 7 – 14

The relief to be home is overwhelming.  It’s not easy to get about though, and to be honest, I don’t think Irish or I realised the extent to which I’d be completely dependent on other people for a while.  I can’t even lift my leg in or out of bed by myself.  The pain radiates from my hip to my groin, and extends into my torso a little.  It is perfectly manageable on codeine and paracetamol (acetaminophen in the US), but I don’t really feel like doing much.  The exhaustion is the most surprising thing – despite having to sleep on my back, I slept all night, and most afternoons too.  The activities I’d normally do on a ‘bad hip day’ – like reading or knitting – are still beyond my concentration.  I’m gutted, because my good friends have leant me so many great books and I had been looking forward to getting stuck into them!  One sanity-saver is a good DVD box set.  We were recommended the Mad Men series and it’s great – gripping, but not so complicated that my dozy brain couldn’t follow the plot.  Even Irish was won over.  On the other hand, maybe I just like it because all those office politics make me feel better about legitimately not being at work!

Mad Men – because a PAO isn’t just another day at the office..

The stairs in our ancient house are pretty steep and unforgiving – so I limit myself to getting up and down them once a day, under full supervision.  I concentrate on the physio exercises I was given in the hospital – and gradually, my mobility starts to return.  It’s very difficult to even try to move my right leg out to the side and back in – but I notice that as the days pass, I can move it further and with less pain, which is very exciting and encouraging.  Once again, I find myself concentrating on the small wins – the day that I manage to hobble to the bathroom at night without waking Irish for help, the day that I decide to hobble outside and sit in the sun for five minutes.

Things to watch out for / not be surprised by:

1) Muscle twitches / weird feelings in your operated leg.  Because the nerves and muscles are healing too, my whole leg felt pretty weird sometimes.  The muscle twitches in my right thigh or glute were occasionally quite painful – and I could do nothing to stop them.    Once, I woke up with the feeling that cold water was dripping onto my right thigh – but when I rubbed my leg, I realised the sensation was just due to damaged nerves.  I am aware of a patch of numbness on my right thigh, from the incision downwards.  It feels pretty strange, but not overly painful.

2) Be careful on your crutches.  The first week I was home, I felt pretty unstable on my feet.  Just putting a crutch down too clumsily could send a bolt of pain into my pelvis, which took a few hours to recover from.  It’s nothing serious to worry about – but be prepared for the odd stumble – it will happen.

3) Be prepared to want / be able to do very little.   I mainly watched TV, cuddled my cat, leafed through magazines and watched endless episodes of Mad Men.

The wolf-whistle hypothesis: thoughts on sex appeal and disability.

Yesterday, I walked to my neighbour’s house.  I’d just reached the end of our driveway and turned to go up hers, when I heard a loud wolf whistle from across the village square.   I was sure it wouldn’t be for me.  I haven’t been wolf-whistled at since I started using walking sticks and crutches.  But when I looked around, I was the only person there and a man, standing opposite me, was staring at me.

Gosh, I thought.  This hasn’t happened for a while.  I’m out of practice. Should I be offended at this wolf-whistle?  Should I wave at this man and smile, or should I stick my nose in the air and carry on the ten metres to my friend’s house?  I started to walk on, and as I turned, I heard the man’s intake of breath and  I realised he’d only just clocked my walking stick.  ‘Oh god!’ he said.  ‘I’m really sorry.  I didn’t know you were..’ his voice trailed off, but he gestured at my limping and my walking stick, leaving the word ‘disabled’ hanging in the air instead.  ‘I wouldn’t have.. I mean, I didn’t want to.. Sorry’.

Clearly, the walking stick indicated to him that I am not quite the goddess he had first envisaged.  I ignored him and carried on to see my friend, but it got me thinking about how difficult it is for people to see beyond the crutches, or the walking stick, or the wheelchair, or whatever.  As soon as that man clocked the walking aid, I was no longer a sexual object, and became an object of – what?  Pity?  Repulsion? Irrelevance?

It reminds me of fellow hip blogger paper or dysplastic’s post about the way people infer different assumptions from the various mobility aids us ‘hippies’ use.  My experience has so much in common with hers.   At the moment, I’m lucky enough only to need my wheelchair for longer distances (around the supermarket for example, or at the airport or in a museum where lots of walking is involved).  So my wheelchair is currently languishing in a dilapidated barn in the grounds of our house.

Parked – for now..

Poor wheelchair, I should really take better care of it.  I will be needing it a lot more after my operation in (gasp) 9 days time.  But there have been times when I’ve been much more reliant on my spare wheels.  And the experience is never a fun one – although Irish is a great ‘pusher’ and does a mean wheelie!

If they see you in a wheelchair, people don’t wolf whistle.  In fact, they don’t look at you at all.  They try so hard not to look you in the eye.  In my experience, a wheelchair suggests more to observers than a physical disability.   They don’t even want to go there. If a carer is with me, people will talk to them instead (the ‘does she take sugar?’ paradox).  Some especially delightful people will point and snigger.  It’s not their fault.  They’re just lucky not to know any better.

Crutches are a different matter.  I am the owner of some rather lovely purple ergonomic crutches made by Kowsky.  They look quite cool.  It seems that ‘wearing’ crutches does not imply anything about my mental abilities.  Rather, crutches invite conversation. People at the bus stop / in work meetings will say ‘Oh dear! You poor thing! What have you done to yourself?’ and then look frightfully embarrassed when I say ‘Oh, I haven’t done anything, I was just born without proper hip sockets’.  They usually apologise – and I reassure them that they haven’t done anything wrong, that it’s fine, that I’ll be getting them fixed soon.

Why do my crutches say ‘temporary’?

So that leaves my walking stick.  A walking stick is in my view, the most useful mobility aid if you want people to notice you.  Old people use walking sticks.  That means that we associate walking sticks with infirmity, with degeneration.  People get out of my way if they see me using a walking stick (this can be very useful in crowded places actually).  When I use crutches, they assume it’s a temporary injury that doesn’t require quite so much consideration – a broken ankle, a torn hamstring, maybe.  But a stick means permanent physical impairment.  And permanence invites consideration – though not, as I realised yesterday, from wolf-whistlers (perhaps another bonus!).

Interestingly, this is different in the US.  Last year I visited Boston for a work conference, and strangers would come up to me in bookshops, in coffee shops, and openly express curiosity about my ‘cane’.  They wanted to know why I used it, and where I got it from.  They told me I didn’t look like I needed to use a walking aid because I was too young / slim / athletic looking.  I didn’t know how to take that at first.  I felt shy about discussing my mobility or lack thereof with total strangers.  But it felt quite nice not to be invisible.

Walking sticks (actually not ideal beach accessories)

There’s no getting away from the fact though, that walking sticks are excellent style crampers.  Nothing says ‘unsexy’ better.  And weirdly, so-called ‘sexy’ clothes look awful with a stick.  A fitted dress, a low cut top – completely canceled out by hospital issue metal with rubber feet.  It looks at best incongruous, and at worst like I’m trying too hard to be something I can’t be.

‘Don’t worry’ says Irish.  ‘I don’t care.  You’re as sexy as buggery’ (an unfortunate turn of phrase, has Irish).  Ah well. Irish is good at cheering me up.  It’s a good thing I don’t need a walking stick in bed.

the yarn identity

Take a seat, grab some yarn, and tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.

hipoptimist

Being happy in Devon with wonky hips

Twentymumthing

Youngish mum, wearing clothes.

Littlebitsofnice

For the little bits of nice, the small things in life and food that makes you smile

paulineknits

Knitting around Dublin - Updated every Monday

Emi 2 Hips

Life Happens When You Least Expect It... stories of living, loving, and life's adventures

harlingenyogacenter

Just another WordPress.com site

hipnothappening

Brought to you by a reluctant hip blogger.

Destination Thrift

Bargains with no boundaries

NARCISSISTA.ME

Where vanity isn't a dirty word

TheSloppyRisotto

Decent, honest student food (by a decent, honest student)

Sugar and Spice Baking

And all the yummy things we are making…

TheHogBlog

Journey through hip dysplasia - and life stuff

Kristenisms...

...knitting...survival...and the meaning of life.

fortyplusandfrazzled

Life really does go backwards at 40

Cute Overload

Cute Overload :D

%d bloggers like this: