Pull up a lounger – I’ll be over here with an ice pack balanced on my hip and a comically large non-alcoholic sangria (doctor’s orders… probably).

It’s the glittering start of July and, honestly, my hip has gone full Spanish telenovela. Speaking of which, I’ve been binge-watching Jane the Virgin again – the perfect mix of drama and ridiculous joy while I’m stuck dealing with my own plot twists.

After the latest round of “let’s try this” with a new doctor and physio, I was prescribed the sensible stuff: gentle swimming and early-morning dog walks with Missy to strengthen the muscles around my dodgy hip.

So every day I was in the pool doing my heroic little lengths, then optimistic sunrise strolls with the dog, until Saturday. Things already felt “a bit off,” but I powered through my normal swim anyway. Got out of the pool, took one step… and click. A noise that was definitely not on the physio’s approved playlist. By the afternoon the pain had gone from annoying to full “why did I ever trust this body?” territory.

I saw the physio on Tuesday. She looked horrified and booked me an emergency same-day appointment with the traumatologist. The doctor was not impressed I’d carried on. (In my defence, I was literally just following instructions!)

The medical plot twists keep getting better. One year of my GP telling me I’m “too young for hip pain” (cheers for that sparkling advice). Then a traumatologist says it’s osteoarthritis – physio will help… for a while… but eventually I’ll probably need a replacement. Yesterday’s doctor took one look and said, “Hmm, I think we’ve got two different things going on here,” and sent me straight for an MRI. Very reassuring. Very painful.

Wednesday morning was the MRI grand finale. They strap your toes together like you’re auditioning for some very niche yoga video, shove earbuds in, hand you a panic ball (“squeeze if you’re scared”), and slide you into the noisy tube of doom. I lasted about 0.3 seconds before my leg staged a full rebellion. Tears streaming, hip screaming, machine clanging like it was building a warship around me. It felt like the longest 20 minutes of my life. When they finally pulled me out, I looked like I’d been through a car wash on the wrong setting.

This morning (Thursday) I was back at physio – thankfully no surprises this time. Just 20 minutes on the TENS machine and a lovely heat pad on the hip. The physiotherapy doctor is waiting on the MRI results and hoping nothing is broken. Fingers crossed.

So here we are. Another week, another chapter in my Hip Saga. MRI results pending, sanity levels… questionable at best. But the terrace is still sunny, Missy still demands her walks (much shorter ones now), and the sangria is properly ice-cold. Small mercies.

I’ll keep you posted every week on this glorious (if slightly painful) adventure. In the meantime, if anyone has hip-related wisdom, miracle cures, or just wants to send virtual ice packs and memes, my inbox is open, i would love hear your stories and what has helped you through this.

Joanne x

Thursday 25 June 2026 — coffee in hand, dog at my feet, and a few honest thoughts swirling around on the terrace this morning. I’m heading off to my first physiotherapy session at HCB Calpe shortly, so I wanted to write this while it’s fresh.

I’ve been told my grade 2-3 osteoarthritis is likely heading toward a new hip somewhere down the line. At 49, that number still catches me off guard. I’ve spent years bounding up the hills around Jalón, Benissa, and Senija, chasing sunsets in Calpe with the dog, and imagining myself doing exactly that well into my 60s and beyond. Reality had other ideas.

The Emotional Side (Because We’re All Human)

It’s a funny old mix — frustration that it’s happening now, just as the kids are getting independent, and I want to soak up even more of this Costa Blanca life. A few “why me?” moments and a quiet cry or two. But mostly determination. This doesn’t get to steal the joy from our chapter here. Plenty of people navigate osteoarthritis and hip replacements and still enjoy every bit of sun, sea, and sangria. I fully intend to be one of them.

The stiffness and pain are manageable most days thanks to the little toolkit we’re building:

Living with It Right Now in the Marina AltaThe stiffness and pain are manageable most days thanks to the little toolkit we’re building:

Physio sessions (starting today) focused on strength, mobility, and staying as active as possible. 

Gentler rhythms: shorter dog walks in the cooler hours, more terrace time with that view I never tire of, and smart pacing so I can still join in the fiestas (Ondara’s Cristo celebrations are happening right now — I’ll be soaking up the atmosphere at my own speed). 

The salt pool works wonders for easing things. The sea is calling, but I’m listening to advice and keeping off the sand and uneven surfaces for now — beach days will come again. 

The healthcare so far has felt genuinely reassuring. I’m learning the system, asking lots of questions, and feeling supported.

The summer heat doesn’t always help (those warm nights can make joints grumble), but the lifestyle here still gives us options that many places don’t — good care close by, beautiful flat walks when the hills are too much, and a community that completely gets it when you need to slow down a bit.

Why I’m Sharing This

If you’re in your 40s or 50s dealing with osteoarthritis, staring down a possible joint replacement, or just navigating any health bump while building (or enjoying) life abroad, you’re not alone. It can feel scary and isolating, especially after moving for a fresher start. But there’s good, rich, sunny life on the other side of the adjustments.

I want this Terrace Diary to be useful: practical tips as I learn them, honest emotions, and reminders that we adapt and keep going. Whether you’re an expat here, thinking of moving, or following from afar, I hope it helps you feel less alone on your own terrace.

Drop a comment if this resonates, if you’ve been through something similar, or if you have tips for managing osteoarthritis in Spain (best physios in the area, supplements that actually helped, gentle activities around Javea, Denia, Calpe or the Jalón Valley — all welcome). This Crew is stronger together.

I’ll update you as I go — next physio insights, decisions about the hip timeline, and how we’re keeping the adventures alive. For now, it’s physio this morning, a gentle walk with the dogs later, and a big dose of gratitude for this beautiful corner of the world that still feels like home.

Moving (carefully) forward with love, Joanne xx 🌴🐾

P.S. The free Northern Costa Blanca Expat Starter Pack has a helpful healthcare section that might come in handy — always happy to point people in the right direction.