Are You Ready?

Before I see Dr. Ranawat, I get another set of x-rays taken at Lenox Hill Hospital.  They tell me to sign in which I do, and await my turn.  45 minutes later, and 15 minutes before my scheduled appointment with Dr. Ranawat, I finally--and obsequiously--ask why patients who arrive after me are seen first.  Uncharacteristically, I am determined to be as pleasant as possible throughout this process as I am convinced that impatience will only alienate my caregivers.  Profuse apologies follow from the woman whom I've alerted but I get the sense that my back-of-the-bus treatment may have something to do with the doctor I'm seeing, who clearly is "slumming" by practicing only 1-day a week at Lenox Hill instead of the Hospital for Special Surgery which won't accept my insurance.  Nevertheless, she efficiently enters my insurance information before I am ushered into the x-ray room by a technician who seems more thorough than the one at Riverside Orthopedics.  My x-rays have been transmitted to the office of Dr. Ranawat by the time he sees me, after a short wait, and after I have completed a comprehensive paper survey about the medical and quality-of-life reasons for my visit.

A fellow enters the sunny examination room and conducts several tests of my knee and hip strength.  He is joined by another fellow who will be observing my appointment with Dr. Ranawat.  It's beginning to seem a bit like a party.  Dr. Ranawat finally enters, and asks me to walk a distance of 20 feet. He remarks how I favor my left side to the fellows and announces that my symptoms and my x-ray suggest I'm a candidate for total hip replacement surgery if I'm ready for it.  I am.

For the next 10 minutes I aggressively question Dr. Ranawat about the procedure.  He answers matter-of-factly and sends one of the fellows off in search of visual aids.  He tells me that he'll be installing a plastic ball joint in my femur and a ceramic cup holder on my pelvis.  My bone will grow around the rough surfaces on both to keep them in place over the long haul.  I think I detect a smile when he answers affirmatively after I ask him--half in jest--if he will be using a hammer and a hacksaw.  This reassures me because the procedure, like the 2 successful cataract operations I already have undergone, seems like something that practice makes perfect.

Despite Dr. Ranawat's reassuring self-confidence, I detect a note of defensiveness when I mention an alternative procedure I heard about from an FDNY physician.  He informs me it was implicated in a recent recall of titanium prosthetic devices that I may have read about in the newspaper and assures me his method is tried and true.  We briefly discuss the implications for someone my age of the prostheses' s projected 15-20 year shelf life and agree that it's better to take action based on my current symptoms and what we know now.  Dr. Ranawat is as blithe as Dr. Kassipidis in his assurances that I will be able to recover at the Rusk Center if I'm unable to climb the stairs to my apartment upon release from the hospital.

A cancellation allows me to schedule my surgery for December 17, almost 6 months to the day after my first diagnosis.  My spirits improve immediately.

As soon as I get home, I Google Dr. Ranawat and discover that his father is a distinguished orthopedic surgeon, his brother practices sports medicine and that he has been honored for his service in the U.S. Marines.  Medicine is a real family affair for these guys.  I'm not easily impressed, especially by physicians, but this time I am.  I'm also grateful to Dr. Martensen for the referral.  It does appear that I will be in very good hands.