From Radiation to Hip Replacement: Our Healing Journey

A year ago, life looked very different. Our healing journey had just begun, before radiation, before hip replacements, before all the healing-in-motion.

There were months when Jim worked 24/7 as a live-in caregiver. It was a short-term mission; military folks will get that analogy. It was purposeful. Necessary. And absolutely exhausting.

I’m not going to lie. It was tough. There were nights I cried. No, sobbed. Alone in the dark, praying out loud for the burden to be lifted. I’m fiercely independent, and it wasn’t that I couldn’t handle it. But the emotional weight? The loneliness? The feeling of abandonment? That nearly broke me.

Then came December. The call. The cancer was back.

And with it, waiting. Waiting. And more waiting.

Somewhere along the way, I took a side trip through burnout and breakdown. My nervous system just couldn’t keep up.

April and May became months of daily drives to El Paso, an hour each way, for radiation. Thirty-nine sessions. Then one final day. Ringing the bell. Radiation complete.

All the while, Jim kept working. Serving someone else. In excruciating, relentless hip pain.

And now, it’s August.

The first hip has been replaced. He’s in recovery. Resting, restoring, ahead of progress, and already eager for the second one. He’s moving slower, yes, but with more ease. More hope. His light is back. He’s back.

And dreaming of riding his bike again.

Lessons from Our Healing Journey

Looking back, it’s easier to see what all that sacrifice gave us. The long hours. The hard choices. The time apart.

We’re building savings. We’re rebuilding our health. We’re finding our footing again, trusting ourselves and each other in deeper ways.

We even built a new section on our deck. With a roof. As I write this, I’m sitting in the outdoor space I’ve always dreamed of. One I prayed for during those sleepless nights.

Pain, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual, comes for all of us. There is no shortcut. No easy button. But with grace, faith, and a little kindness, we find our way through.

Pain suppressed is pain unhealed.

As Ram Dass said, “We’re all just walking each other home.”

Thank you for walking and reading this road with us.

©2025 Lori Ann King