Five weeks ago I entered the local hospital for a total hip replacement. After nine months of grinding hip pain I was willing to assume the surgical risks for the chance of a pain-free life.

Walking with a cane was of limited benefit with the pre-surgical hip. And I avoided going any significant distance because I knew I would have pain for hours afterwards. Trips up and down the stairs in my home made me very nervous. Along with having to drag myself up one step at a time, in my unsteady state I feared I would fall backwards.

Lying or sitting provided a slight amount of relief, but the inactivity decreased mobility, which, in turn, led to more stiffness and muscle atrophy. Trips to the gym helped for a few hours, but later in the evening there would be hell to pay in the form of a relentlessly aching joint.

Fed up with the pain this past January I had surgical placement of a brand new prosthetic hip. Thanks to a great insurance plan, I was able to afford the services of one of the finest orthopedic doctors in my area. We had a relationship of sorts as he had previously repaired a torn rotator cuff and knee ligament injury. I trusted his skills and knew he'd do a great job with the hip replacement.

I opted not to view a film of the surgical procedure beforehand. With my vivid imagination, I would be holding the gory images in my mind prior to the surgery and I didn't need anymore negative energy at that point. I placed myself in God's hands and, surrounded by healing prayers of friends and loved ones, went into the surgery knowing all would be well.

Now, you have to understand that the type of surgery I had is a 'serious' procedure. In addition to the anesthetic, the doctor uses surgical instruments for this surgery type that most any carpenter would recognize: drills, wrenches, mallets, saws and screws. All of this is needed in order to cement, ream out, shave and sand. My surgeon, after five years of this type of work-out, has a well-muscled torso and could probably crush a bag of walnuts in his armpit.

Following the surgery, I stayed in the hospital long enough to be pumped full of antibiotics and make sure the incisional pain was well-controlled. I was discharged home on a blood thinning-drug named coumadin in order to avoid the development of a post-operative blood clot. The pharmacist who reviewed the risks of coumadin with me prior to discharge was the first person to really get my attention about what I'd been through. She described the surgery as 'brutal' and warned me that I would have extensive bruising of my surgery site and the areas around it.

In fact, the only bruising I developed was a quarter-sized area adjacent to the incision. Every nurse that came to my home during convalescence remarked at the unusually healthy appearance of my incision. And I'm happy to report normal activities have been resumed - the use of my cane is mostly for stability given the winter weather conditions - and I have no pain outside a little pinching in the area of the incision when I do too much.

My experience with the surgery's success is one many folks share. The overwhelming majority of the 231,000, total hip replacements performed each year in the United States get people back into life and able to enjoy physical activities once again.

There's a lot of negativity directed at the medical profession, drug manufacturers and insurance companies. But, when our health care system in this country works as beautifully as it did for me, it's hard not to be in awe of the advantages and privileges we enjoy here in the United States.