My Faith Brought Me Through a Painless Summer 2011

By Helen Conover (sister of Flo Higgins)

How I had both my knees replaced during the summer of 2011.

The exact date was August 9, and I was back at

work within six short weeks. How did all this happen

so easily, I thought, when others were talking of waiting

months for an appointment and researching doctors for days?

I’ve always felt that if a project goes without a lot of trouble,

it is the right thing to do. Through prayer, faith and a positive

attitude much can be accomplished without great effort.

Along with faith goes action through positive vibrations and

prayers from fellow believers, friends and family.

Flo asked for prayers for me; they were given by many

including members and friends of Unity Church by the Shore.

Many people told me they had me in mind during the time I

was in the hospital. We went to a healing group at Unity

Church. My friends and family gathered around physically and

spiritually, giving me strength. I never doubted that the operation

and recovery would be successful. It was a pleasant experience

in rehab. That’s the way God works—through people and faith.

Here is my story: Originally I planned to go to a wedding in

France with a stop in Paris. But as the time closed in, I thought

about how badly my knees hurt all year long. They had bothered

me for years, but now they interfered with my decisions

about walking around the block.

Eventually I cancelled the trip and called my doctor to tell

him I wished to have a double knee replacement this summer.

We had talked about it only once and he said, “But, Helen,

there are some steps to take first.”

“Okay, what are they?” He gave me the name of an orthopedist.

I made an appointment for the next day and went to the

oddly named Pain Center in the Village. (It sounded to me like

a place where you’d go to select your pain type.) His assistant

took X-Rays of my knees; the doctor came in and asked me

how far I could walk without pain. We were about three feet

apart. I said I couldn’t walk over to him without pain. I had

seen the X-Rays and the light showing through the joint connections.

The doctor said that he did not do that kind of work, disappeared

into another office and came back with an appointment

for the next day with a surgeon who operated at the

Hospital for Joint Diseases, on East 17th Street, in New York

City, just across town from my apartment.

The next day I spoke with the surgeon, who hesitated about

agreeing to do the surgery because he said he wasn’t sure I

would be able to recover from an age-related concern, “but

…maybe.” I told him that I was a swimmer, a walker, healthy,

and strong. “I know my body and I know that I could do it.” So

he eventually sent me to the person in charge of appointments,

and I made a date for the operation on August 9th. This would

be my second operation; I’d had my tonsils out at 10 years old.

Now in order to prepare for the recovery, I went to Tinton

Falls as often as I could and took the water aerobics class, then

swam laps and played with the noodles as much as I could to

build up the muscles that are so important in walking.

I had to go to a pre-operation test at the hospital prior to the

date to have a battery of tests. That took eight hours: four hours

of tests and four hours of waiting, including a class about the recovery process.

I went into the hospital at 9:30 a.m. on the 9th, and hardly

remember much. When I woke up, my legs were already being

exercised by a machine that moved them up and down to keep

them limber. I was up by the second day, walking to the bathroom

with a walker, and being doted on by the staff. I remember being

very tired all the time. At the end of the week, I went to the rehab

facility a few floors down. Now I was learning to walk again.

I had a roommate who was a competitive ballroom dancer

who had only one knee done. Our routine went something like

this: Up at 6 a.m. for blood pressure test and pills, visit by doctor/

intern at 7, breakfast at 8, bathroom and wash-up at 9, then get

dressed, a therapist at 10, and work in the gym, learning to climb

the stairs, or get into a car or the bathtub, more working on walking,

back to bed for lunch, a nap, and the next exercise or walk.

By the end of the week we were outside in the beautiful weather,

crossing the street to the park, where we could bask in the sun

and practice a few steps.

The staff was wonderful and kind, therapists were professional

and encouraging, nurses efficient. At the end of the week,

we were all walking to some extent. My roommate and I agreed

that the whole week had been a pleasant experience. When I

arrived home with a friend who picked me up from the hospital,

I was able to walk up the few steps in my lobby using my cane.

To celebrate, we went across the street to lunch