Terrace Diary: Episode Three – PRP Day Has Arrived (And So Has the Flare… Maybe?)

Hola Terrace Crew,

Pull up a lounger and grab something cold because it’s very humid and hot out there.

If you read Episode One (or Two — I’m losing track already), you’ll know I finally got the MRI results confirming moderate osteoarthritis in my left hip. Grade 3 cartilage wear, that lovely bone marrow oedema, and the pubic symphysis throwing its own little party. At 49, on the beautiful Costa Blanca, I decided it was time to try something before we start talking full hip replacement talk.

So here we are: PRP injection talk. Platelet-Rich Plasma — my own blood, spun and concentrated, then injected back into the troublemaker hip. Regenerative medicine, Spanish sunshine edition. My doctor has convinced me that this is the best way forward, and once again, he has said he doesn’t want to give me a hip operation at my age; that’s nice because he makes me younger than I am lol, so Monday at 4.30 I’m checked in and a low bank balance to boot, hope it’s worth it.

The Monday Morning Nerves

I woke up nervous but strangely optimistic. The terrace was already warm under the morning sun, and Missy was doing her usual “why aren’t we walking yet?” dance at my feet. I tried not to overthink the needle part.

The last two days, the pain in my leg had gotten noticeably worse — a constant clamp-like pressure around my thigh and ankle that flared with every step. Still, I followed the instructions: stayed hydrated, had a light breakfast, and put on comfortable clothes. My husband and I drove to the clinic with the air conditioning blasting. The heat on the Costa Blanca feels like a tight, warm wrap around you all day — I’ll be so glad when the cooler days arrive.

The thought of the injection had been weighing on me, but the procedure itself was quicker than I expected. A simple blood draw, a short wait while they processed it, and then the guided injection into my tendon. The local numbing helped, though there were a few solid seconds of deep, intense pressure that made me wince. The doctor was excellent — calm, clear, and reassuring the whole time. In and out in under an hour.

Right Now (A Few Hours Later)

I’m back on the terrace with my feet up, ice pack on rotation, and a very understanding dog curled up nearby. The hip feels… grumpy. Not screaming pain, but definitely a deeper ache and some swelling — the famous PRP flare is making itself known. They warned me this could happen for a few days to a couple of weeks as the healing response kicks in.

I’m sticking to strict rest today and tomorrow: no long walks, no dramatic terrace dancing (yet), lots of gentle movement, and acetaminophen if needed. No NSAIDs for now — they apparently interfere with what the PRP is trying to do; however, I can take paracetamol if the pain gets too much. So far it’s fine, just uncomfortable in bed lying on one side all night.

The Hopeful Bit

This is me choosing to give my body a fighting chance to repair before things get worse. The goal isn’t a miracle overnight — it’s buying time, reducing pain, and maybe improving the joint environment so I can keep enjoying this life I love: sunset terraces, gentle beach strolls, and chasing the next adventure (even if it’s at a slower pace these days).

I’ll be updating you honestly — the good days, the flare days, and whatever wins (or lessons) come along. Physio starts soon too, so the full team effort is underway.

To anyone else navigating OA, chronic pain, or just the general “body starting to complain in mid-life”: you’re not alone. Whether you’re in Spain, back in the UK, or somewhere else entirely — sending you a virtual sangria (non-alcoholic today) and a big virtual hug.

Drop a comment if you’ve tried PRP or any regenerative treatments — I’d love to hear your experiences.

Until Episode Four… rest, ice, elevate, and keep the terrace vibes alive.

With love and a slightly sore hip,

Joanne xx 🌴🍹🐾