After a hip operation: the six weeks of help at home

This is for anyone arranging care for someone recovering at home after breaking a hip or having a hip replacement. It draws on four calls that reached our team at different points in that recovery, from the days before someone leaves hospital to the weeks afterwards, when the risk of another fall is still high and the right kind of help matters as much as the number of hours booked.

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The six weeks that follow a hip fracture

A broken hip, or a hip replacement to fix one, usually means a period in hospital, and often a stay in a rehabilitation unit, before someone comes home. The first weeks at home tend to be the hardest: getting in and out of bed safely, managing stairs, washing and dressing, and avoiding another fall while strength and confidence slowly return. How much weight someone is allowed to put on the leg, how their physiotherapy exercises should progress, and how the surgical wound is healing are all questions for the hospital team, the GP or a physiotherapist, not something to guess at, since every recovery is different and the pace is a medical decision. Our guide to caring for someone at home after surgery covers the practical side of that period.

Hospitals often arrange a short period of paid support after discharge to help someone settle back in, sometimes alongside a council decision about whether longer-term care will be funded. That support is usually generous where it is offered, but it is also time-limited, and families are often unsure what happens once it ends. Our article on what to ask for when the hospital raises the subject of ongoing care looks at that conversation in more detail, and our page on what to do when the person you care for is leaving hospital covers the discharge itself. The four calls below show different points at which families reached out for private help around that timeline.

Arranging cover before the discharge date

A woman called our team a little before her mother, who lives in the south east, was due to be discharged from hospital after a hip operation. Her mother’s flat had a lift and was all on one level, which meant the daily practicalities were manageable, but the family’s main worry was the night: if her mother needed the bathroom, or if anything went wrong while she was alone, there would be nobody there to help.

Our team explained how the process works: she would need to register online and create a job post describing what was needed, so that carers living locally could apply, and she could then interview whoever seemed suitable. Someone staying over so they are on hand if needed in the night is what we call overnight care, and it is booked separately from daytime visits. Staff sent her the registration link by WhatsApp there and then, and she confirmed she had received it. She was told that once she had registered, an account manager would be assigned to guide her through inviting carers and choosing between them.

The call ends there, so we do not know whether she found someone before her mother came home. It is included here because it shows how early this kind of worry usually starts: not once someone is already home and something has nearly gone wrong, but while they are still in hospital, when the fear of a fall in the night is really a fear of what happens if a fall happens and nobody is there.

The gap after the hospital’s own carers finish

A second woman called while her mother was still in hospital after breaking her hip. Her mother would have hospital-arranged carers for a period once she was discharged, but nobody had told her what would happen after that support ended, and an occupational therapist had said only that they would then look at whether a referral to social services was needed. Her father, who has dementia, also needed looking after in the meantime, which made her want to plan ahead rather than wait and see.

She had already registered and, without quite meaning to, had a job post live on the platform: one local carer had applied before she had decided whether to go ahead. Rather than starting again, our team suggested she message the carer who had applied, exchange phone numbers, and arrange an initial meeting, so that once the hospital support ended and any council decision was made, she would not be starting from nothing.

The call ends with her thanking our team and agreeing to stay in touch. There is nothing in the record to say whether she went ahead with that carer or what social services eventually decided. This story is here because it shows a practical use of an uncertain wait: meeting a carer and getting a feel for them costs nothing and commits to nothing, so a family is not starting the search from scratch the moment a gap in support actually appears. A single fall leading to a hospital stay, an operation and this kind of sudden reorganising of family life is common; our piece on the fall that changes everything, and the first week after looks at that period in more detail.

Getting the personality right, not just the hours

A third call came from a daughter, probably in her fifties, who lived two minutes from her mother, a woman in her early nineties, and who had been doing much of her mother’s day to day care herself. Her mother had had a hip operation and was recovering: walking with a frame, though her daughter thought that with the right support she might manage a stick again in time, needing help getting in and out of the shower, and glad of someone in the house overnight even though she did not need hands-on help in the night itself.

Her mother already had a live-in carer, someone who moves in and is there around the clock rather than visiting for set hours, but that arrangement had started to go wrong. The carer meant well but had become too controlling, making small decisions for her mother rather than with her: for instance, ordering a replacement item her mother had specifically said she did not want bought while a delivery could not be answered. Her mother, who the daughter said was “not that easy” but had coped impressively with her operation and recovery, needed someone who could gently encourage rather than take over.

I don’t think I need someone really experienced, honestly. I just need someone really kind, really patient, not lazy.

Our team helped her register, talked through what her mother needed day to day, and explained how checking a private carer works in practice: carers on the platform are self-employed and set their own rates, but PrimeCarers checks their identity, right to work and Disclosure and Barring Service, or DBS, documents, an enhanced criminal record check, before they can apply for work, and every carer completes our own registration and induction steps.

PrimeCarers is an introductory platform and does not provide, manage, supervise or clinically assess care. Clients remain responsible for checking carer documentation, interviewing carers, checking suitability for their specific needs, and agreeing the scope of care directly with the carer.

By the end of the call, her job post was live, and staff had already identified two carers they knew and rated highly to put forward for her to interview. This story is here because it shows that during a hip recovery, the right personality, firm enough to encourage without being pushy, but not so strong-willed that it becomes its own source of stress, matters as much as any qualification. Finding that fit is rarely instant, which is why the right carer often isn’t the first one a family meets.

When more than one person is trying to help

The fourth call was awkward from the start. Our team rang to follow up on a registration, and the man who answered, who described himself as his wife’s carer, had no idea what the call was about. His wife had broken her hip and was in hospital, about to be moved into a rehabilitation unit nearby. Someone, he assumed one of their adult children, had registered for care on the family’s behalf, but nobody had mentioned it to him.

Rather than push ahead, our team explained clearly who they were and why they had called, gave him a number to pass on, and asked him to check with his children about what had been arranged and why. He agreed to email his children, who were in meetings for much of the day, and our team offered to call back the following day once he had heard from them.

What happened after that is not known. It is included here because it is a reminder of something easy to overlook in the rush that follows a hip fracture: several family members often start trying to help at once, sometimes without checking with each other first, and the person answering the phone may themselves be an older spouse already caring for someone. Our piece on what our team asks on the first call, and why looks at how those early conversations are handled.

What to do next

• Ask the ward or discharge team what home support is already arranged and for how long, and raise questions about weight bearing, physiotherapy and wound care with the hospital team or your GP rather than guessing.
• If you know discharge is coming, start early. You do not need to wait until the day someone comes home to post a job describing the help that is needed.
• If NHS or council-arranged support is time-limited, use the overlap to meet a private carer in advance, so there is no gap in cover while a longer-term decision is made.
• When choosing someone for live-in support, think as much about personality, firm enough to encourage, not so strong-willed that it causes friction, as about hours or experience.
• Agree within the family who is coordinating the search before contacting anyone, so nobody is caught out by arrangements made on their behalf.

Related reading

• Nobody tells you: what you can ask for when the hospital says care home
• The fall that changes everything: the first week after
• The perfect carer doesn’t exist: what families learn by the third one
• What our team asks on the first call, and why