Seven Weeks Post THR

Okay, peeps.

It’s time for a Coda puppy update!

We are now seven weeks post total hip replacement surgery, and if you want a high level perspective on how involved the recovery has been, lemme just say this: on a scale of 1 to 10, I’d put this process at a…273.

I kid.

(But, also, not.)

But look at our girl. She is stable and gaining strength (and feistiness!) and I have faith this will someday be a very insane thing of the past.

Now. To rewind…

So…for the first 10 days, things were very precarious.

http://delappenings.blogspot.com/2024/09/coda-puppys-thr-surgery.html?m=1

Coda was highly medicated, highly immobilized (by her own body and surgical guidelines), and we were highly on edge about anything and everything that might jeopardize the implant.

It was tremendously difficult to hold her, transport her (outdoors, to use the restroom), prevent her from moving or playing, and don’t even get me started about the difficulty of administering her liquid medications multiple times a day.

It was intense. 

But, in a way, it was a study in contrasts: extreme stress and care, but extreme exhaustion (medically-induced and otherwise) on Coda’s part, so she was sleeping a fair bit. I’d also sort of made myself available, schedule-wise to be her primary and 24/7 caregiver, so I was in-it-to-win-it for that time period.

Welp. Around the 2-3 week mark, things changed, drastically.

At that point, our girl was feeling much less fragile, and much more capable, AND she was building up a tolerance to some of the drowsiness side effects of her medications, so she was ready to be ACTIVE. But not cleared to be!

Worse, still, this was a very pivotal time for Coda’s implant (according to the surgeon), as this was the stage in her recovery when osteo-integrated growth would occur to stabilize the implant, but Coda’s cartilage would be very loose and susceptible to laxation. Uggggggh.

So, basically, every Coda movement, every burst of playfulness, every time we picked her up and she wiggled, or she managed to hop off of something or zoom in a way she shouldn’t…caused us MAJOR stress.

We did our best to wear her out with small outings where we held her the entire time, or walked her very precariously with her sling, but it was tough. And even when the surgeon upped Coda’s medication dosages, nothing was enough to keep her totally calm. This stage involved a lot of finagling and concentrated care.

But we did our best, watched slowly as our girl gained more and more confidence and dare-devil-ness, and…also watched that hair of hers grow back over her incision. :)

We took her on a million exploratory backyard prowls…



Gave her lots of love and low-key play…



And lap naps…



And couch cuddle snoozes…



Until around the 4.5 week mark, when I just couldn’t handle the stress of keeping her caged any longer, because her energy and activity levels had her busting her at the seams.

Around that time, the hubby had to be away for about 48 hours, and that’s when I finally hit my breaking point. I’d even purchased several brain stimulating activities like puzzles and hidden treat toys to try and keep her busy in her cage, but nothing helping in a significant way.

Worse still, she started flat-out refusing her medicine (swiping her paw and flicking it across the kitchen, multiple times), she rattled at her cage, non-stop, to be set free, all the meds in the world weren’t making her sleepy, and…she started having willful, never-ending bathroom accidents, just to boycott the whole situation.

Thats when I just had to let go, and let God.

The hubby and I made an executive decision to release Coda from her confinement, earlier than surgical orders, because the stress—on Coda, and on us—of keeping her contained was both a failure and a massive source of stress and anxiety.

And thus began the next phase of Coda’s recovery, which involved less meds and restrictions, but…MANY MORE prayers.

We kept to surgical orders of no walks, but we let Coda wander the house, and on the occasions she ran from one room to another, or played too fiercely, or jumped (gasp!) we stressed, but just prayed harder.

We only had to make it through about a week of that stress before Coda’s official post-op x-rays and checkup. And holy goodness, did we breathe a massive sigh of relief when we learned her implant was in place and stable, and surrounded by bone growth.

Amen, HALLELUIAH.

About a week later (coinciding with our return from Mohonk) we launched Coda’s Walking Plan, which is a surgeon-dictated regime for Coda’s physical therapy. Lots of short walks to build up her muscle mass and get her to a stronger, more stable place.

And lemme tell you JUST HOW MUCH our girl was thrilled to bits and pieces to be out in the wild again!

I can’t even begin to tell you how freeing it was to make it to this point. :)

Even these short walks felt like a (literal) breath of fresh air after weeks in the weeds of stress and confinement and intensive care.

BUT (there’s always a but)…a few days later, a wrench was thrown in our plans. Suspecting an ear infection, we took Coda to her regular vet (so, not the specialized surgeon), confirmed a double ear infection, and also got the news that…

Coda’s right (surgical side) patella (knee cap) was out of place.

Say, whaaaaaaaaaat??????

I mean, the shock and fear of this was REAL. How the heck did our little nugget manage to have a knee out of place, and without us even knowing??? And a mere 10 days after her prior sedation and post-op x-rays.

I give up. I really give up.

(Only a little.)

The vet set the knee back in place, deemed it a level one (out of four) laxation—so not too severe, yet—and told us to just keep an eye on it.

Unfortunately, this has sent us into a new state of worry. Every hop, skip, or irregular gait makes us question: Is it hip? Is it knee? Is it both??? It’s an insane mind game.

I contacted Coda’s surgeon to submit video of Coda’s current walking style, and to inquire about this new situation, and our instructions are to bring her in within two weeks for a surgical re-check, with a specific loosksie at the knee. The words “we might need to consider stabilization” were put out there, and now, I’m very much sticking my head in the sand.

Bottom line:

We LOVE our girl.

She is an irreplaceable part of our family.

And we’ll continue to give her allllllll the care throughout allllllll her life. Even if I’m really, really hoping we’re knocking out all these hiccups at the very get-go.

When I look back on this time period, I’m aware of how stressful it’s all been, but there’s also a fascinating  out-of-body element to it all.

Kind of like the post I shared about lowering my life expectations of having any free time or a to-do list that’s any less than three thousand times? It’s kind of like that. Extreme care and management of our adorable little pup is just kind of a given at this point.

But I do think it’s wise to sometimes stop and acknowledge the simmering level of stress (mental, financial, physical) that it’s added to our near-boiling pot (another past post).

Luckily, our Coda girl is worth ALL OF IT.

But it’s also a worthwhile endeavor to remind myself that the hubby and I—and even the kiddos, at times—need a mental break from our puppy care and just the helpful admission that it’s a lot.

So, there you have it. Our update, nearly two months post-surgery.

Considering last Fall, we welcomed our girl into the family (lots of new responsibility and stress), and this Fall, we navigated this major surgery and its aftercare, I’d like to kindly request the universe throws us a bone in Fall of 2025. Pretty please????

Okay, more updates over the weekend, peeps!

Over and out.