#dislocated hip

[floweralleyblog-blog]

Fear and Me

I wish this battle would finally be over,but that’s not how things played out…again.The fear is here with me, uninvited as usual.My mantra is: If you don’t move, you won’t break.I am alone until tomorrow. I will keep my phone with me, in case I break again.I am bruised from the last reduction.Will it be the last? If I am still, it will.A revision may fix what keeps separating.Everyone is afraid.…

Fear and Me

[rebelsouledheart]

Well then

My hip has been hurting these past few days.

And I’m just like

well hi there, hello there hip.

I haven’t thought about you in such a long time.

You haven’t shouted at me in like forever!

I kinda thought you were aligned.

But my hip gets it. There were other priorities it was allowing me to tend to first.

Our bodies are designed to be kind and that’s a beautiful beautiful thing.

My hip is demanding some attention and attention it will get.

[mrsmanics]

So, I finally had some answers about my hip pain...

[docelly-1]

[for-the-love-of-angst]

TW: BROKEN BONES

1 - 2 - 4

She squatted, biting her lip and swallowing the scream bubbling up and clawing at the back of her throat. She squatted and stood and squatted again with sharp, uneven breaths. Her hip popped, clunking back into its socket.

Kestrel sobbed and stood. She could fix her nose later. That wasn't as important as getting home.

It's a long, slow walk home. Every thought of Wick, of Rhoda, of Minha had vanished - replaced by the agony that sends her knees buckling with every step she dared to take. Her lungs burned with every shallow breath she took, stretching and pulling at her screaming ribs. She wanted to scream but the only energy she had was reserved for pushing herself forward. 

Night buzzes around her, the dim light from the street lamps hitting the cobblestone streets and flickering. The shadows danced and flickered on the almost empty streets and somewhere there's a laugh, deep and rumbling and mirthless. Anyone who passed by her barely spared her a second glance and rushed home to lock their doors and light their candles. Kestrel didn't blame them. It's a shite time to be out and she wouldn't have asked for their help anyway.

Night is an eerie time in Solandis, a time for demons and spirits and goblins to run free and wreak havoc until the sun banished them to the abyss once more.  Even the stars and the moon seemed to hide tonight and despite the pain coursing through every nerve in her body, despite the sweat running down her back and dripping off her face, Kestrel shivered. The darkness was even more oppressive than the summer heat. It threatened to swallow her whole and choke out the remainder of the air left in her aching lungs.

Her chest tightened, eyes darting from shadow to shadow to shadow. 

She'd never been afraid of the dark. She knew the stories of goblins and ghosts were just that - stories, stories and superstitions handed down through the generations - but that didn't stop the fear thrumming through her veins from making a home in her pounding heart. She knew there was nothing out there and any other time, she would have walked through the main streets with an eager confidence, holding her head high and snarling at whatever shadows snarled at her. But tonight she couldn't fight the shadows as they snarled at her, mocked her.

She’s weaponless and weak, hunched over and supported herself on the walls leading to the Wickham Mansion. She’s vulnerable and weak. So fucking weak. She should’ve known better than to let those thugs piss her off. She was stupid for allowing herself to be this vulnerable. She knew better. Lord Wickham would punish her for it. She’s sure of it. 

The stars have chosen to hide tonight and yet she saw them in her line of sight. They shimmered and flashed in a dazzling display of reds and greens and yellows and blues, blurring together and ending in black before bursting forth again with white and repeating the process. She had to keep going. It was far more dangerous to pass out on the street, in the shadows, than it would be to face Lord Wickham’s wrath. There would be no rest for her until she got home and even then she would have to answer for being out later than her allotted time.

[thatcatjoe]

Joe got a bit hurt yesterday. I don't know how, but he dislocated his femur from his hip. He's recovering now, but he's stuck in my room and floor until we don't have to worry about it dislocating again. Hopefully he recovers fine, he's in a bit of pain, but he's still a loving boy.

[for-the-love-of-angst]

1 - 3

Sometimes, Wick was right. That was something Kestrel would never tell him. He would, of course, throw it back in her face and then she'd be forced to spike his drink with habanero peppers. It wasn't that Kestrel didn't like being wrong, she just didn't like Wick - the insufferable know-it-all - to be right. But it happened, once in a blue fucking moon, Kestrel was wrong and that bastard was right.

She wrinkled her nose and groaned as a flash of pain shot through her head. Her nose was still broken. The numbness that had kept her safe from uttering any noises of pain had long faded, replaced by a steady, agony that kept Kestrel pinned to the floor and scratching at the wood. Every tiny, shallow breath she managed to take pulled against her ribs and pricked her lungs. She's not sure how many are broken but it paled in comparison to the heat lightning flashing through her shoulder and hip. Her shoulder hung limp and out of place at her side, throbbing and throbbing. Wave after wave after wave of tortuous agony crashed over her. She shuddered, back arching, fist clenched and stuffed into her mouth to hold back her screams. 

She should get up. She should get home. Minha would worry and that would worry Rhoda. They would kill her if she went home with these injuries. Neither of them would accept the excuse that she thought she could win. Nor would they accept the idea she'd been doing it to protect their boss.

They wouldn't care.

She could already hear Rhoda's brogue calling her a fucking bampot and not in the sweet, loving way she said it to Wick. Minha would tsk and call her a sòt bata while forcing her to sit and giving her something for the pain. Minha would fuss and Rhoda would lecture and Kestrel would grin and apologize and promise never to do it again. 

She'd be lying of course and all of them would know that. And they would all make the silent promise not to tell Wick.

She needed to move. She was a sitting duck here if those men decided to come back and finish what they started. One step at a time. She had to roll over first. That's all she had to do. 

She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this.

Kestrel sobbed, pushing herself over and up onto her knee. Her hip grated, spasming with every movement. 

She could do this and so began her long walk home.

[dogalyo]

Hip Dislocation in Dogs - All You Need To Know

Hip Dislocation in Dogs - All You Need To Know

Dogs can suffer from various problems in their hips. In this case, we will talk about hip dislocation in dogs, the reasons that can produce