I’ve been a physical person my whole life. I spent over 25 years dancing professionally on Broadway in 18 shows, and even before and after that career, movement has always been how I feel most like myself. Being outside, being in motion — it’s how I access joy, clarity, and wellbeing. It’s also how I stay connected to my kids, my environment, and my sense of purpose.
So when my hip began to fall apart around age 52, the impact on my life was enormous. I couldn’t move freely. I was in pain every day. And my world started getting smaller. I was no longer able to do the things that made me feel like me—simple things like walking pain-free with my kids, traveling comfortably, or even standing for long periods.
I saw other doctors, and they told me to wait. That I was “too young” for a hip replacement. But waiting would have meant another year—or five or more—of living a diminished life.
When I met Dr. McLawhorn, he wasn’t coming from the usual “it’s not bad enough yet” angle. Instead, he brought a perspective that really resonated with me. I’ve heard him speak about his philosophy around hip replacement, and it’s clear that he and his colleagues believe that if you have a metaphorical dollar to spend, spend it now—don’t save it for later at the expense of living your life. This isn’t just about avoiding a second surgery down the line; it’s about recognizing that a year, or two, or five years of your life is incredibly valuable. Why sacrifice that time in pain or limitation just to meet an arbitrary timeline? That mindset felt aligned with how I want to live—and how I want to show up for the people I love.
Thanks to Dr. McLawhorn, I had a full hip replacement at age 54. I walked out of the hospital with a walker a few hours after my surgery. I was on strong pain meds for one night. Within weeks, I felt like myself again.
Now, I work as a psychotherapist, which involves less movement than my prior career, but because of Dr. McLawhorn and his team, I still have access to a full, physical life. Since my surgery I've traveled to Italy, been to Disney with my family, walked countless miles along the Hudson river, done painless yoga and danced like a maniac in my living room with my daughter. I feel like I have the hip of a 14 year old, despite executing thousands of fan kicks, splits and jumps in high heels well into my forties.
For me, being alive—being myself—means being in motion and I have now lived over a year of life that has been embodied and encumbered, which is incredibly precious to me.
So, thank you, Dr. McLawhorn. I’m one of hundred and hundreds of hips you work on a year, so you won’t remember me. But I think of you and my hip surgery with immense gratitude often, as I only have one life and I am living it very differently than I was 2 years ago thanks to you.