What a difference a year makes, at least for me when it comes to my health.

A year ago this week I was preparing to have a total hip replacement on my right hip. I found out I’d need it in Dec. 2020, when an X-ray for a sore back revealed that the entire ball joint on my right hip had collapsed.

I was fortunate that I didn’t completely lose my ability to walk. Still, it was difficult near the end to get out of a chair or to take the first step after standing.

My medical team at Avera told me not to worry. I was young for a hip replacement patient and in good overall health, someone who was likely to bounce back quickly.

There was always the possibility, however, that I would be one of the unlucky ones. It was possible that I’d have complications that might never totally go away.

I just told myself to have it done and to allow myself time in March and April to get well.

I chose to stay overnight in the hospital since I have steps in my house. The surgery on March 1 went exactly as planned. Later in the day, I was able to walk with a walker.

There was a lot of uncertainty the next day about going home. I feared I might not be able to manage the steps, that I’d have to come up with temporary housing.

It was a relief to make it up and down the stairs. I knew then that I could get to my rehab appointments, cook my meals and do everything else needed to remain on my own.

The one surprise in the whole process was a pleasant one. It related to how I didn’t have to go through hip replacement on my own after leaving the hospital.

I knew I’d have my aunt and uncle to bring me groceries. I knew I’d have United Community Action’s public transportation service to make up for not being able to drive in March. What surprised me was the many moments every day when someone I didn’t know showed concern.

Never having been injured before, I never thought much about helping someone who has a disability. It’s just something we need to do. It’s the least we can do.

It’s different when you’re the one receiving the help. Many times I’d be all set to maneuver my walker over a curb or through a door when someone would go out of their way to help me.

It leads to a few mixed feelings. A small part of me thought I could handle it, that I didn’t need as much special attention as I was getting. I wanted to have signs that I was slowly getting back toward self-sufficiency.

I always kept those thoughts to myself. I accepted the help with thanks. I recalled what a good feeling it was to know that you did something that made a difference for someone in need, and let everyone who helped me feel that same satisfaction.

I never previously understood how much many small acts of kindness add up. When it happens to you repeatedly, every time you’re out in public, you learn to appreciate how we truly live in supportive communities.

My recovery involved steady progress. I worked my way up to making good distances in the standard rehab walking tests. The straight leg raises slowly got easier, until they eventually became automatic.

I now have a dependable hip joint that will last longer than I last. My left joint shows some arthritis, which means it might need to be replaced sometime before I’m elderly. I know I can face hip surgery again if the need arises.

I also know that I can face growing old. There will eventually be other health limitations. I know, however, that it’s a journey I don’t have to walk alone.

We have many great health care professionals and service providers whose greatest motivation involves helping others. We also have the kindness of relatives, friends and even total strangers. It makes life worth living.

— Jim Muchlinski is a longtime reporter and contributor the Marshallindependent.com