Walking Miracle

I was 64 years old with severe groin and hip pain. I wondered if I could continue working in my profession because of my health concerns. Although I had lost 35 pounds by following the FA program and had been abstinent for nine months, neither the weight loss nor the physical therapy was solving my pain and mobility problems. The pain had become so unbearable that I could not walk at all without a walker, and I often had to stand at FA meetings. The pain was so distracting at work and in meetings that I was often in tears.

Shortly after my sixty-fifth birthday, I consulted a physician concerning the pain and my decreased mobility. After a series of X-rays, physical therapy, and analysis, I was diagnosed with severe osteoarthritis in both hips that would require bilateral hip replacement surgery. Because of my “normal” weight, I was a candidate to have both hips replaced in one surgery. Understandably, I had fear about the procedure, anesthesia, hospital food, and maintaining my abstinence. I had fear of the future. But I had no choice about the surgery, so I had to accept and trust the process. I did this by praying and using the tools we read at every FA meeting.

Immediately following surgery, I was admitted to a rehabilitation hospital for two months of extensive physical therapy, rest, and hospital food. I had to sleep on my back with ice packs and pumps for circulation on both legs for what seemed like weeks. I was uncomfortable. My digestion stopped for nearly ten days, and I could not eat solid food for several days. The longer I was in the hospital, the more powerless I felt and the more fearful I became.

The most difficult thing about this two-month stay was the hospital food. I requested the food on my food plan but I could not get what I needed from the hospital. An FA fellow brought in my scale and some food that I kept in my room. Twice, the food my FA fellows brought was thrown away by hospital staff, and I temporarily panicked. My sponsor reminded me that I would not starve. My hospital floor did not have a scale for weighing myself. I was powerless. I asked for help. My sponsor and her sponsor were supportive and brought food. Fellows called and came to my room to support my recovery. I committed my food by phone to my sponsor, who worked with me on the hospital food.

I joined a phone AWOL while I was hospitalized. I relied on the fellowship of the program and my Higher Power for help. During this time, my surgeon, the nurses, and the rehabilitation staff were impressed with the speed at which I was recovering. They were also curious about my food program. My sponsor reminded me to use my quiet time while I was in the hospital. I had plenty of opportunities for quiet time, especially at night.

This month is the third anniversary of that surgery. I now walk normally and without any pain. I have a full range of movement in both hips and legs. I am fully recovered. I am abstinent. I have returned to my professional career full time. I am 68 years old and feel better than I have in years. I am in a right-sized body. I realize the blessings of being able to stand, prepare and weigh my food, and eat in a lovely environment instead of sitting on the edge of a bed with a tray in a hospital. I continue to happily and peacefully live alone, mow the lawn, paint, sand and stain my deck, and maintain my home. I attend three committed in-person meetings a week. I sponsor and I am sponsored. I joyfully hold service positions in all my committed meetings and encourage others to do the same. I completed the phone AWOL that I started in the hospital, and am about to begin my first in-person AWOL. I am grateful. I am committed to the Steps, to recovery, and to the FA program.

What seemed like a hardship actually allowed me to come out the other side more healed — physically, emotionally, and spiritually — and stronger in my abstinence and in my program. Yes, there were the unknowns and bumps in the road about certain things, and there still are. Life happens. But there was and continues to be a silver lining. I am truly grateful.