My husband’s hip replacement surgery went very well – it only lasted one hour – and he was released from the hospital after a two-night stay. I not only brought him home, I also brought a cold and compression machine to aid in his healing process and a brand-new walker. I think he made very good progress toward recovery almost immediately, with just a few hiccups along the way.

The first day he was feeling pretty puny, but once he started to take his prescription strength ibuprofen, he was back to his feisty self. So feisty that he abandoned his walker sometime during his first night home – while I was sleeping – and began hobbling around on his own two feet. Needless to say I had to insist on the walker the next morning when I saw him maneuver his unsteady body from one chair to another. The walker enabled him to walk straight and tall at a nice slow pace, and I didn’t have to fear he’d fall and either ruin his new hip or break something else. He then told me he’d use the walker to humor me. While I was sleeping and he was up during the night all bets were off. With that I started calling him a brat.

He also didn’t like wearing the hospital-provided support hose necessary to prevent possible clots in his lower legs. I admit they were a pain to put on, but with the help of a baggie to get them over his toes and little talcum powder sprinkled inside, we got the hang of it. Still he tried in the worst way to get out of it. One morning I couldn’t find them and actually went to the drugstore to buy another pair. When I saw the price tag I decided to go on a search of our home. They couldn’t have walked away on their own.

When I asked Bob where they were he said he had no idea. Then I asked him if he could have possibly put them either in his robe or sweat pants pocket. The next thing I knew he was rummaging around in the trash bin under our kitchen sink, and sure enough he pulled them out. He said he believed he was throwing away a wad of tissues from his sweatpants pocket but had thrown away the stockings instead. He retrieved them out of the trash, and aside from my laughing out loud, all was well. When his home health care provider came that afternoon the stockings were where they belonged – on his lower legs.

Though he was told to wear them during the day for a total of three weeks, he stopped wearing them completely by the beginning of week 3. By then the home health care provider wasn’t coming anymore so Bob was safe carrying on with his delinquent behavior.

My husband also didn’t listen to the admonishment not to go to the dentist. He took himself for his teeth cleaning appointment, and thankfully the hygienist asked if he’d have any surgeries lately. Of course she raised a red flag when Bob admitted he just had hip replacement. As a result he’s been told he is to have no dental work for three months after the surgery.

I realized he was definitely on his way to recovery when he told me he didn’t want me to push him around anymore. He dismissed me as his helper regarding taking his pain meds, getting in and out of the shower, putting on his elastic stockings, and setting him up for his cold therapy. And once he graduated from the walker to a cane, he also exhibited his usual noncompliant behavior. For example, when I asked him if he had his cane with him when he took his required daily walk, he said yes. When I asked him if he used it, he said no.

And now that we’re just past five weeks post op, I’m happy to say that he is essentially back to normal. He’s taking Advil for occasional pain, he’s driving, he walks very well without a walker or a cane, he’s gone back to working out at the gym, and he’s returned to work as a consultant. He also sleeps better at night. For the first three weeks or so, he just couldn’t get comfortable sleeping anywhere – the bed, the couch, the chair.

The only thing he needs to work on is walking longer distances. He’s been told to add a minute for every day since his surgery, and he clearly has done that. However, he wants to be able to walk a mile so he can go back to playing golf. He’s even in a better mood, though he still doesn’t want me telling him what to do relative to his recovery.

Well, his doctors have said to give it six weeks. And at the rate he’s going I suspect he’ll be playing golf in exactly six weeks.