Hip Hip Hooray!

 Nothing makes you feel quite as old as having hip replacement surgery at the age of 41. You see, I was always taught that sport is good for you, it's healthy. Well, I'm not going to lie to you, after 2 hip operations, 2 knee operations, numerous broken fingers, both eyelids stitched and glued, both eyebrows split and stitched, a torn rotator cuff, advanced arthritis, 2 hernia's and a wash-list of cuts, fractures, contusions, scrapes and bruises, I'm starting to waver slightly...

Sure, if I weigh up the pros and cons it's not a total disaster. Not on the withdrawal from Kabul scale, or the "hey I know, let's leave the EU!" magnitude, but I wouldn't necessarily call it a romping victory either. The Germans have a saying, 'Sport ist Mord', translated as, sport is murder. That seems more fitting, although possibly a little too extreme in the opposite direction. 

So I'm currently in my fourth week of hip replacement recovery and beside the benefits of being able to lie on the sofa watching telly, scratching your nuts for an extended period of time, while your family brings you food, drink and anything else you might desire, it does somewhat feel like COVID isolation extra time. So not the edge of your seat, World Cup super over between New Zealand and England at the Oval extra time, but more like football extra time after a mind numbing 90 minute goalless draw between Moldova and Andorra.  

I'm not the most patient person at the best of times but this has tested me to my limits. It started with the 4 days in hospital. No visitors allowed. Covid. Luckily I was prepared. I had a military style charging rotation system for my phone, iPad and laptop so as never to run out of juice and miss episode 3 of some obscure Spanish true crime series scraped from the bottom of a barrel in the Netflix dungeon.

Another unfortunate side effect of the immobility is the Mount Everest of calorie surplus you shovel into your mouth every day, while barely hitting 1200 steps/limps. Just before the operation, if I looked really hard and squinted a little bit I swear I could see my six pack making a comeback. 4 weeks after the operation and I can just about see the tip of my penis. I keep telling myself that once I'm back up and running I will reverse the trend and be beach body fit by the summer of 2022. But let's be honest, there's more chance of me finishing Netflix (and that bag of minstrels) than ever seeing that six pack again...

Anyway, I've got 20 years with this new bionic baby so I'm determined to show him a good time and make the most of it. Hip Hip Hooray!


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