ESSAY BY HEIDI JOHNSON-WRIGHT
Fast forward 30 years: I am now 45 years old, an
attorney, a disability compliance professional and a wife of 22 years.
My metal
and plastic hips have served me well.
They have seen me through college, law
school, and two decades of employment as a public servant.
They were with me
when I walked down the aisle on my wedding day, when I first rode in an
all-terrain wheelchair down the sands of South
Beach, when I ascended into the air on
the London Eye, when I ventured across the floor of Monument
Valley, and when I explored the Court
of the Lions at the Alhambra.
But in spring 2010, I noticed a problem that just
wouldn’t go away: when I would lie on my right side in bed, I felt a troubling
ache in my left groin.
I tried every trick I knew: heat, ice, rest, stretching.
You name it, I tried it.
And all the while I prayed it was a temporary soft
tissue thing and not a permanent joint problem.
RECOVERY ESSAY CONTINUES TOMORROW -- FEBRUARY 3
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