Bill White: hip and knee replacements restored my quality of life

Jul 25, 2023

I wrote a short story one time called “The Body Surfer,” about a guy who drove to Stone Harbor, New Jersey, and tried body surfing in February, for reasons too boring to recount here.

Here’s how I explained his thoughts on body surfing, which not surprisingly, coincide with my own.

“His dad had taught him how to do it, standing by his side in the surf when the boy was barely tall enough to keep his head above water. ‘Don’t do a lot of flailing around like some of these idiots do,’ he explained. ‘Wait until the wave is cresting, push off and lean into it. Economy of motion. Best feeling in the world when you catch it just right.’ ”

I prefer keeping my head under water to riding head-out like a turtle. It enhances my feeling that I’m part of the wave, not just a passenger.

Our family spent two weeks in Stone Harbor early every summer, and I often gauged my enjoyment of a beach day on how successful my wave rides were. My dad felt the same way. We often rode them together until his last few years.

My wife and I visited the Oregon Coast some years ago, and I insisted on trying my hand at body surfing in the Pacific there, even though the water was so cold that almost no one got in the water beyond their ankles. They thought I was crazy.

(An ear examination years later revealed I have a moderate case of “surfer’s ear,” bony protrusions in the external ear canal caused by chronic cold-water exposure.)

More than once, my wife has pointed out that my obsession would be more appropriate for a little kid than a middle-aged – and now, geezer-esque – man.

She just doesn’t know what she’s missing.

Unfortunately, my body eventually began rebelling at this and other physical activities. Between degenerative arthritis in both hips and a knee damaged by sports injuries and arthritis — not to mention an arthritic lower back — I reached the point where a round of golf left me hunched over and barely able to walk. In fact, walking any distance became a struggle.

Even the least physical activity I could imagine — sleeping in bed — became such a painful trial that I took to sleeping in my La-Z-Boy recliner, the only place where the pain didn’t keep me awake.

I knew my knee was a mess, but I didn’t realize my hips were the biggest problem until X-rays showed they needed to be replaced.

I decided to plunge into the solution, undergoing replacements of both hips and my left knee within eight months from September 2021 to May 2022.

This was an extremely aggressive approach. It’s a bad sign when staff in the orthopedic hospital come to know you by name.

But it changed my life. Once I was sufficiently healed from my second hip surgery, I was able to sleep comfortably in bed again after a year in the La-Z-Boy. I found myself standing straighter. I could walk fine after playing golf. I could play on the floor with my young grandsons again – and get up easily afterward.

For all these reasons, I’ve become a big advocate for hip or knee replacements when people are suffering as I was. Whatever you think about life in the 21st century, there’s no denying that medical advances such as more routine replacement surgeries are offering us the chance to stay active much longer. I’m so grateful.

One of the most lamented casualties of my ailments was body surfing. Leading up to the surgeries, I could barely stand in the surf, let alone ride in it and expect to get up again. Post-surgery last year, I still didn’t have enough confidence in my recovery to brave it during our week in Ocean City.

But when we returned last week, I decided I was ready to body surf again.

Unfortunately, the waves were underwhelming. Worse, my timing was gone. On the rare occasions where my grandsons let me get off on my own, I kept missing the waves I tried to ride, always too early or too late.

I had pretty much given up by our last day on the beach. But when the family announced it was packing up for the day, I sneaked away for one last dip.

It was near high tide, and although the surf was rougher than it had been all week, they were breaking too far out. I ducked under a few waves to wash off the sand I’d accumulated digging castles and scooping up sand crabs. Then, just as I was ready to start trudging away, I saw a big one coming.

I bounced out to the right position. I watched as the wave began to crest — and leaned into it.

And I was off, as one with that beautiful wave as it carried me almost all the way to the beach.

I rose to my knees. To my feet. Easily. Beaming.

I’m back. Can’t wait until next year.

Bill White can be reached at [email protected]. His Twitter handle is whitebil.

Sign up for email newsletters