Well, the best laid plans of mice and men…

I was all set to have a very interesting and fun day. It was April 7th and I was visiting The Plains, Virginia, for my brother in law’s funeral. He was so loved, nearly every friend or relative would be there. It was exciting to begin seeing family members from all over.  I wanted to honor him as well, plus show my sympathy for his siblings and children. But Fate had other plans for me.

I was at a brunch for his relatives at my daughter’s studio there. I was having such a good time, talking to all the guests.

But, suddenly, someone asked me a question from an angle. I pivoted, quickly in another direction, and I lost my balance and fell, like a tree .

It was embarrassing, and it was one of those moments where you think, this can’t be happening. But it was happening. There was no choice but to call the rescue squad. Those EMTs were wonderful. They were very experienced and they got me onto a stretcher off the cement floor with minimal pain.  Yes, there was pain, but it was so quick.

The ambulance drove 15 minutes from The Plains to Haymarket and the hospital there. They got me into the emergency room and onto a bed, again so smoothly. There they x-rayed my hip and told me it was broken. It had to be fixed right away.

I was probably somewhat in shock. I was in pain if I moved a muscle on my left side. But  I  could not believe that this was actually happening. At the same time, I was so disappointed not to see all the guests who were coming to the funeral I had planned to attend that day, and I was  also so mad at myself for doing this. I was in a private room in the ER, for a long time, from almost noon till 7:00 PM

Upstairs, they admitted me to a private room in the actual hospital, and checked me in.  I was able to sleep that night, but barely, with a low dose of morphine at midnight. Taking big drugs makes me sick. The next morning, I was seen by the doctor. Dr. Bartley Hosick is his name. (Great listener, it turns out) He talked to me and told me he was going give me a partial hip replacement. After I heard him say that, I turned to him and I said, “Doctor you are not seeing me at my best. But I want you to know that though I am in fact 84 years old, I am a vital and proactive and engaged 84-year-old. I entertain all the time, I’m involved in many things, and I walk down my driveway 1.6 miles most days and I want to continue to do those things.”

He didn’t comment much on that and I spent the rest of the day getting prepped visiting with friends before the operation which was scheduled for 4 p.m. At around 3:20 pm, I was wheeled down to the operating room where they informed me: “You’re getting a total hip replacement.” I was surprised and questioned it. They said that’s what is scheduled. When the doctor came in to talk to me, he told me that he was going to give me a total hip replacement because he felt that was the best thing for me;  then he turned around, and he said,
“Would you like to know why?”

Of course, I was very curious. And he said, “ I heard you when you told me that you were an active and vital 84 and I thought this would be best.”

I’m so glad I spoke up. The scary thing is, I might’ve just kept quiet, in which case he would’ve given me a partial. I don’t know how bad or different that would’ve been. But it must be better to have a total replacement. When you’re in your 80s, and confronted with hospitals and doctors and protocols of all sorts, you must speak up, or you will be shoved into a pigeonhole for your age. You might feel they are writing you off, being, you know, on the way out.  I may be on the way out, but I’m going there dancing. The operation was short : 45 minutes. I had a spinal, not general anesthesia, which I feel is better. When I woke up, from whatever they gave me that made me sleep through it, my head was clear, and my brain was sharp. They gave me some drug in my IV that made me completely miss the whole operation, including the insertion of the spinal needle.

I was taken back up to my room feeling notably better already. At 9:30 pm, after the 4 pm surgery, they got me up and walked me to the bathroom on a walker on my own two feet.  The next morning, they got me up again– that day was Thursday– and I had been in the hospital two nights. They came to evaluate me to see if I could leave the hospital that very day, or if I had to stay another day, or maybe go from there to a rehab place.  The evaluator came and had me walk around on a walker and walk up some little steps– and I’m not exactly sure what they were evaluating, but whatever it was, they liked what I did. They said I was fantastic. They were surprised that someone my age could handle it so well after just having the hip replacement. So they said, “ You can go home today.”

That is exactly what I did. My daughter, Helen, who had been planning to drive up from Charlottesville to visit me, instead collected me and my belongings. She drove me back to my house in Charlottesville, where some others of my children had come with carryout Thai food. We had a little family dinner.  The first couple of nights home were a little rough,  but I am now writing this on Tuesday, exactly eight days since I broke my hip.

I am feeling so good and so mobile. Sometimes, when I turn around, I forget that I am supposed to be using a walker. I actually could walk already unaided, but I’m being careful, following the doctor’s instructions, so far.

The thing is, when this happened, it was very depressing. It was very disappointing. I was angry with myself, and I know, too, that I AM an older woman. It’s going to take longer than I wish to heal. Some people have serious side effects. I just want to get well. My attitude now is hopeful. But it was not so hopeful the first night before the operation. I thought about my mortality and that I might not make it through the operation. Or worse, that I might be somehow incapacitated during the operation, and come out gravely impaired. That was very scary. I got into a conversation with God about what my future was to be. I told God that I was pretty sure he would do what was best for me, and I was pretty sure that I was okay with that. This was actually a really big deal. I made my peace with God.  Instead of being scared about the operation, I kind of relaxed. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, but, relaxing, I  let it all take place.

Now, today, I feel so much stronger and happier and well and competent and capable. And even though I still have a long recovery ahead of me. I have made such progress in one week, and  I hope to make more every day. I am so grateful to my doctor for listening to me. That was huge!

I think older people have to be very proactive about getting doctors to listen to them. I don’t think that always happens. But if you do get their attention, you can really change the prognosis, and you can change the outcome. So, speak up for yourself. Don’t be afraid, and I hope everybody that I know will stay upright and not have any falls. But if you do, get help immediately.

To everyone I know, young or old. God Bless you all.

Copyright©. 2026 Bonnie B. Matheson