My toughest year

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

As some people who have worked with me previously know, I had to have both my hips replaced last year. If they don't know then they clearly do not listen to me as I talk about it enough!

As i touched upon in my last blog, the first operation was successful, apart from the bit of drill that snapped off during the surgery which you can see on the right hand side of the x-ray, but I have been assured that it is totally fine in there. I was back to work after 5 weeks which might of been a bit early as I was told to take 2 months off. But there is only so much daytime television that you can watch and you know its time to go get out back into the world when you start knowing the estimated prices of antiques!

So, after a few weeks back at work, I received a letter giving me the date of my second operation. I was actually exited about this one as I know knew what to expect, and I could take the rest of the year off and go back to work in January and be completely fine, albeit the aches where I'm starting to build up strength. 

So when the date came round, I had my hospital bag packed and ready. I was having it done in a private hospital this time so i was especially looking forward to having my own room. So I'm waiting in my room, my surgeon comes in and tells me I'm last on the list so it would be a bit of a wait but luckily I had a tv to keep me occupied this time, and my favourite antique show was on! BONUS!

I eventually get called out by the nurses to say its time, so we go down to the theatre. I have to go through the procedure of an epidural to paralyse me from the waist down, which involves a few pretty uncomfortable injections in my back. Once that is all done I'm wheeled through, I have a quick joke with my surgeon about trying not to snap off any bits of drill this time, we both have a little chuckle and then i'm put to sleep.

So I wake up in recovery, and I feel very relaxed, probably due to the pain killers and I am wheeled up to my room to begin my recovery. This time around it felt very sore, I remember the first night after my first op and yeh that was sore, but this seemed a bit different. After a couple of days my surgeon comes in to see me, I tell him about what I'm feeling and he says its normal and the surgery was a success. No drill bits this time. So I take his word for it. After 3 nights I'm allowed home.

My first night at home was a difficult one, not only did I have this discomfort going on, but my bladder was out of control and spent most of the night with my bits and bobs in a milk jug! In the morning I wake up and the pain has reached a new level and my leg was huge. I express my distress to my parents, who I was staying with, but maybe they thought I was looking too much into it and maybe it was feeling like the last one did but I was thinking about it too much. I get up to go to the toilet on my crutched and I cannot get back to my bedroom, my leg had swollen up so much that I couldn't bend it from the knee to walk and I couldn't swing my leg around because of the pain by my hip. We called the emergency services and I described what I was feeling and they sent an ambulance to come and get me. I was taken to the hospital in Portsmouth, not my nice private one in southampton, and taken through to a and e where I would wait for a few hours before being taken up to a ward where I would stay over night.

The next day I want for an ultra sound scan. I was so out of it on pain killers I wasn't sure what the doctor was saying but I do remember her calling on 2 other doctors to take a look which was a bit worrying. They went out of the room for a talk and then had me taken back up to the ward.

A few hours after, my sister and nephew had come to pay me a visit. It was always great seeing my nephew as he always made me laugh. My sister and I were having a chat whilst I was eating a sandwich, I can't remember what it was about but we were laughing. Suddenly my laughter began to cease, my leg was starting to become more painful and more painful still, I dropped my sandwich and just screamed out in pain, in felt like my leg was about to burst. My sister rushed my nephew out of the ward and my dad had just arrived to see all this going on. He was doing his best to calm me down but I was in sheer panic, they described my heart rate a tachycardic, Ive watch enough of holby city to know that isn't a good word. They doctors that had come to view my scan were suddenly stood in front of me and by this time I was almost paralysed by the morphine I had been given. A nurse came in and told me they were taking me down to surgery and I needed to have a catheter inserted. I refused at first but they hurried me into letting them do it as they said that it was urgent that they put it in quickly and get me down to surgery. From this point I do not remember a lot, just a small bit of being on the operating table, seeing the x-ray of my hips, and then being put to sleep.

The worst part of this part was seeing the distress on my parents face, especially as they thought I was over reacting to the pain I was feeling at home to the point we actually had an argument. The toughest image I remember is seeing my dad in tears and my mum clasping my hand as they wheeled me down to theatre. Probably the only parts I remember between the start of the pain and being put to sleep.

I remember going in and out of consciousness upon waking, I don't think I knew too much about where I was. I remember a doctor coming in and telling me that I was in intensive care, the operation was a success and that I would be in there for a few days. At first I thought 'why am I in intensive care', still off my head on morphine. Then I must of fallen asleep again. The next time I wake up, my parents are there, I was so happy to see them. The doctor came back again to see me and see how I was. He then proceeded to explain what had happened. He informed me that I had had an aneurysm, and it had burst in my leg causing what they call compartment syndrome where the leg bleeds internally between the muscle and the muscle facia and the blood was beginning to suffocate the muscles in my leg. He then told me that they had to cut my leg open to release the blood and I was lucky to have made it out of the surgery that had taken 4 and a half hours! Obviously it was scary to hear all this but the morphine dulled my emotion a tad. He then explained that my leg was so swollen, that they couldn't close the wound up and they would try again in a few days to do it. So, now realising the extent of the situation, I look down and see that my leg has been bandaged up from the top of my glute to the top of my knee!

It was a very scary time, and the sights that you see in intensive care are those you will struggle to forget. I remember there was an old man opposite me and I don't think I ever saw him awake, just asleep rigged up to all these machines. His son had come down to see him and as soon as he looked round the curtains, he cried and his legs just gave way. It was harrowing to watch and made the fact that I had to have my bed sheets changed once an hour because my leg was leaking so much, not seem that important in the grand scheme of things.

After 4 days in intensive care, I was taken back to theatre for my second op where they managed to close the top half of my leg and I was then taken to a ward. I still had the bottom half open but now I had some kind of vacuum attached to the bandaging which was sucking out the fluid instead of it leaking everywhere so I was a lot more comfortable. One night I was being rigged up to my 6th blood transfusion as I was expected to go into surgery again in a couple of days to close the second half of my leg. There was a guy opposite me who was always bugging the nurses when they were helping me, asking him to wipe his bum and change his water, I really had to bite my tongue and say nothing, The same night I was having the transfusion, he kept his tv on load until 11.30 when a nurse had to come in and tell him to turn it of, to which he protested and eventually turned it off. A few hours later I was awoken by a beeping, my drip had run out, so the nurses came in to change the blood bag, and the beeping was turning off whilst they adjusted the machine. This guy then proceeded to voice his displeasure about the beeping, and thats putting it lightly. So I absolutely lost my head, told him to shut the F up as this was not a hotel. I was so angry and probably wasn't helping my blood pressure at the time!

So the next day, I have my final op to close my leg. Luckily it was a success and a skin graft was not needed. Then began the journey to try and get out of that hospital as I was sick to death of it, especially the guy opposite me! The day after the op, the physios had come to see me to try and get me out of bed. I was very nervous as all I had done for the past 11 days was lying down in bed and I remember after my first hip operation the first time I got out of bed after just one day, I had never felt so sick in my life!

But to my surprise, I was up on the crutches first time! not feeling sick at all, but very very wobbly. I was determined to have a walk as I knew they'd have to see me walk to consider letting me go home. So I went for the most undignified walk of my life, me on crutches, one physio pushing along my drip, the other carrying my bag full of wee! So we go for a walk and return to the bed where I'm allowed to sit down in the chair next to my bed, not long after my mum arrives and she looks so pleased to see me out of bed. The physios return to see how I'm feeling and explain that will we try the stairs tomorrow, drawing on my experience form the first hip operation, I knew I could do it and knew it was another task i'd have to complete before they can let me go. So I asked them if I could do it now, they seemed very surprised and agree so half an hour later they return for me and take me to a small physio room where there is a small set of stairs. All I have to do is go over them twice and I knew i'd be another step closer to leaving. On the way back to the ward, I ask if I can go to the loo. At this point I had not gone for a number 2 for well over a week!

As I return to the ward, I find my mum and doctor together talking, he seemed very surprised that I had already done the stairs and was moving about so well! There was only one question to ask, 'when can I go home'?. All I had to do now was have the cathater removed and have a wee on my own. I remembered then how painful it was having it put in so was concerned about having it taken out but it wasn't as bad. Next thing I do is ask the nurse for 2 jugs of water and I begin drinking away, knowing I'm at the last hurdle then I can go home. An hour or so later, I finally manage to go to the toilet, it was then the absolute best feeling in the world, but also painful as my bladder had not worked on its own for about 10 days.

But I was given the go ahead to leave!! I was exhausted with relief, and probably the little walks I kept thing myself on whilst I was waiting for the go ahead as I wanted to get up and running. Mostly I wanted to be able to walk comfortably on my crutches so I could go out for coffee with my mum which was my favourite part of the rehabilitation phase.

I was also pleased that my determination won and I was out of that hospital much earlier than anticipated. I don't think the other people on my ward could quite grasp it, all they had seen of m for 10 days was me either asleep, being rigged up to drips and having blood transfusions, more sleep, my leg wide op and being wheeled off to surgery for operations. Then all of a sudden my first time out of bed after all that time and i'm off home. I was amazing to watch the reaction from the other guys because they also then requested to the nurses that they wanted to see the physios and were starting to get out of bed also and have a wonder around. Maybe in some may I inspired them a bit, not being a big head or anything but I think everyone in that situation can be motivated by the smallest thing and maybe I was a small motivation.

It was certainly an experience. and one I use to better my life to this day.

This will all be explained in my next write up: my greatest year.

Phil Page

WHY?!?!

The importance of WHY!

Why do you want this? Why do you get up in the morning?

Why is the big word behind any reason to do anything in your life, not just in fitness.

Over the years of being a personal trainer, I have encountered clients who have a WHY and those who do not have a WHY. This word is so important behind the goal setting process.

Want to lose weight? WHY?

Want look good in your little black dress? WHY?

Want to be healthy and fit? WHY?

Last year was one of the most distressing of my life. I had to have both my hips replaced. Before it happened I was very down as I knew I would have to give up the things I loved the most. Football, Running, Strength training, Lunges and squats!! Ok not too disappointed about the last two on the list there but you get the picture.

Before I had the first hip done in July last year, I was already setting myself a goal. That goal was to get back to work for the start of sept. Why? Because I knew I would be having another hip replacement 4 months after and I wanted to work as much as I could as often as I could to get as much money behind me as I could.

So, I had the surgery and with my goal in mind, it made me focus on my rehabilitation and where I had the WHY in mind, I knew I couldn’t be lazy and skip a day of rehab as it would put me back.

Sure enough I hit my target, I got back to work after 5 weeks and by the start of September and worked non-stop up until the second hip in November. Again I set myself the same target of returning to work by the 1st of January. But such is life, it didn’t quite go to plan this time. I was rushed back to hospital for emergency surgery as I had an aneurysm that had burst in my thigh, my leg was filling with blood and suffocating the muscle. I was extremely fortunate not to have lost my leg and I was very lucky to make it out of the surgery at all due to blood loss. I woke up in intensive care with my leg still open, requiring to more surgeries to close the leg.

What now?!?! My plan had been shattered by an absolute disaster. During the 10 days I was in hospital, I began to plot my next move. How was I going to get myself out of this mess? It wasn’t clear at first, but I began my rehab like I had done before and just kept busy with that whilst thinking about what was now achievable. A friend of mine who runs a sports coaching company offered me the chance to get some work in with him for 2 hours a day in January and said I could do it on my crutches. BANG! There was the first small target set, get strong enough to work with my friend.

After a couple of weeks, I began to feel a lot stronger and felt like it was time to push on, next target was getting back to personal training. Where I had been off for almost 3 months now, I had lost most of my client base as they had found their own routines, which is understandable. This gave me the opportunity to start a fresh and move to a new gym which made sense financially whilst I built up my client base from scratch. February was the target! WHY? Because I had a holiday in Las Vegas booked with my dad in April to celebrate our 30th and 60th birthdays and I needed to pay for it!

So it is now mid-September, Vegas was amazing! My target this year was to have 4 holidays! WHY? because I didn’t have any last year due to obvious reasons and wanted this year to be a year to remember! I will be going on that forth holiday next week when I go to Benidorm with my best friend to celebrate his 30th birthday.

Fitness wise I defiantly lost my motivation, all I’ve ever trained for I football and it was now absent from my life. I found myself just going through the motions in the gym and not really putting everything I could into my sessions and even taking 3-4 days off training at a time. So fast forward to today! I have signed up to a boxing match which will be in aid of cancer research on the 12th of November! WHY?? Because I want to do something completely out of my comfort zone, something that none of my friends have ever done and it’s for a good cause. I have also done it for me, to give me the boost back that I needed in my training, knowing that I can’t skip a session with 8 weeks to go until the fight or I’ll get my head slapped off. I’m extremely nervous but also very excited as I feel this has given me a new lease of life after everything I went through last year.

Having that why built into your goal setting progress, gives your goal a purpose, a reason to do it, and you know you will not get there unless you do what is needed of you.

After I complete this goal, what is next?? And more importantly, WHY???

What is your WHY??