HONEYBULL Cane Review: Daily Use After a Hip Replacement

The first Sunday I walked into church without holding onto anything but a cane, I sat down in the pew and noticed my hand was still gripping the handle tight. Not from fear. From habit. For about six weeks after my hip replacement I had leaned on a loaner walker from the hospital equipment closet, and then a rollator with a seat for the longer trips. Both of those do a job. Neither one lets you walk in, greet three people, and sit down like a man who simply brought a cane to church.

I bought the HONEYBULL folding cane about twelve months ago, once my physical therapist allowed me to move off the rollator for short distances. It is my Sunday and short-trip aid. Church every Sunday, the feed store on Wednesday, quick errands with Doris, and around the house on the evenings when my legs are tired. This is what twelve months of daily use looks like, honestly, including the parts that are not flattering.

How I've Used It

Before the surgery I did not own a cane, a walker, or anything else in that line. I delivered mail on a county route for thirty-one years and I had strong legs and bad posture and that was the trade. My right hip gave out slowly, then all at once. The surgery was in the spring, about eighteen months ago now.

The first six weeks I followed my surgeon's hip precautions, which meant no bending past a right angle and no crossing my legs. I used a loaner two-wheel walker from the hospital equipment closet for that stretch and returned it when I was done. My physical therapist moved me onto a rollator with a seat, and that is still my outing aid for the grocery store with Doris and for the walk down the gravel drive to the mailbox. The rollator is about twenty pounds and it folds into the truck bed, and I am glad to have it, and it is not something you carry into a church.

The HONEYBULL came about twelve months ago, when short trips no longer needed a seat and a set of hand brakes. It weighs about one pound. It folds to roughly 12.5 inches, which means it rides behind the front seat of the truck and I forget it is there until I need it. The height adjusts with a push button from 30 to 36 inches and the listing says it fits people from 5 feet to 6 foot 5. I am a shade under 5 foot 11 and I set mine a couple of clicks below the top, which puts the handle at the crease of my wrist when I stand up straight. That was my physical therapist's rule, not mine, and I would pass it along.

The feature that made me buy it is the one I would have laughed at a year ago. It stands up on its own. The base is extra wide, three tipped, about 4 inches across, and the cane stands there on the floor without me holding it. At church it stands beside the pew while I sing and shake hands afterward. At the feed store it stands beside my chair while I drink coffee with the boys I used to deliver mail with. In the kitchen it stands by the counter while I reach for a coffee cup with both hands. A cane that falls over every time you let go of it is a cane you end up carrying instead of using.

What Twelve Months Taught Me About the Base

The HONEYBULL three-tipped base is the whole idea and also the whole adjustment. On a flat, hard floor it does exactly what the listing claims. It stands. It does not tip. I have watched it stand through a whole church service and a full pot of coffee at the feed store.

On gravel it is a different conversation. My drive is gravel and my yard is uneven, and a wide base does not sink into either one the way a single rubber tip does. It rides on top. That is steadier in one sense and less forgiving in another, because you feel every rock through the handle. For the first month I took it slow on the drive and let the rollator handle that stretch. Now I use the cane on the drive when the ground is dry, and I take the rollator when it has rained. That is not a knock on the cane. It is just what a wide base does on soft ground, and it is worth knowing before you buy.

The three prongs also mean the cane can stand on any surface, per the listing, and I have found that true on grass, on concrete, and on the tile in the fellowship hall. It is the soft ground, not the surface, that decides how it feels. And whatever you buy, ask your doctor or physical therapist about the height and the tip before you lean on it. Getting that wrong matters more than the brand on the box.

The Fit and the Fold

The push button is stiff enough that it will not slip and easy enough that my hands, which are stiff in the mornings, can work it. That was a real concern. One of the boys I drink coffee with on Wednesdays has a cane with a twist lock he cannot manage before ten in the morning. Push button was the right call for me. There are height markings, and once I found my spot I stopped thinking about it.

Folding takes two hands and about three seconds. The segments are held by an internal cord, so it folds into a bundle roughly the size of a rolled newspaper and opens back out with a click that I can hear and feel. I have opened it one handed in a parking lot by holding the handle and letting the rest drop, but I would not count on that being smooth with cold hands. Folding it and putting it behind the seat is a two-hand job and I do not mind that.

The handle is ambidextrous, so it works in either hand. I use my left, which is the side away from the new hip, per my physical therapist, and Doris sometimes carries it in her right when she walks me out to the truck. Same cane, no swapping parts.

The aluminum frame is the reason it weighs so little. It also means the cane is a balance aid and not a place to put your whole weight. I have leaned on it harder than I should a couple of times getting up off a low church pew, and I could feel the give. That is not a defect. A one pound cane is not a crutch and it is not a walker, and if you need something to take real weight, the rollator is the tool for that job. I have both and I use both, and the day I stop needing one I will not miss it.

A cane that falls over every time you let go of it is a cane you end up carrying instead of using. This one stands up beside the pew through the whole service.

How It Held Up

Twelve months of Sundays, plus Wednesday coffee, plus short errands, plus evenings around the house. The HONEYBULL has taken all of that without a complaint. The rubber tips on the three prongs are showing wear but nothing has split. The push button still locks where I set it. The folding joint has not loosened up the way cheap hinges do. There is a two-year warranty on the listing and I have not had a reason to test it.

What has changed is not the cane, it is me. In the first months I used it every time I stood up in the house. Now I use it on tired evenings, in the dark, on the steps from the carport into the kitchen, and any time I am carrying something in one hand. My balance is not what it was before the surgery and it is not going to be. The cane is how I do a normal week without thinking about it. That took weeks of use, not days. Nobody should expect a cane to fix a morning in one walk to the mailbox.

Where It Lives

The HONEYBULL rides folded behind the front seat of the pickup. On Sunday morning I unfold it in the church parking lot and walk in. It stands beside the pew through the service, which is the single best thing about it, because a pew is not a place you can lean a cane without it sliding down and clattering on the floor in the middle of a prayer. After the service it folds and goes back behind the seat.

At home it stands in the corner of the kitchen by the door to the carport, and on tired evenings it moves to the bedroom within arm's reach of the bed. That matters. Getting up in the night is when a man my age is most likely to be unsteady. I had one wobbly first step in the dark last winter and caught myself on the nightstand, no fall, and Wade put a bed rail on my side of the bed about ten months ago. The cane and the rail do different jobs and I would not give up either one.

Who This Is For

This is for the person who needs steadiness for short distances and does not want to carry a piece of equipment around with them. If you are going to church, to a doctor's appointment, into a restaurant, or from the living room to the kitchen, and you want something that stands on its own while you use both hands, this is the shape of cane that does it. It suits someone recovering from a hip or knee replacement who has graduated off a walker for short trips but is not ready to walk into a room empty handed.

It also suits the person whose family is doing the buying. The listing leads with helping a parent or grandparent, and I understand why. If you are ordering the HONEYBULL for your father and you cannot be there to set it up, the push button and the height range from 30 to 36 inches make it hard to get badly wrong for anyone between 5 feet and 6 foot 5. Have him stand up straight and set the handle at the crease of his wrist. Then have him walk a lap of the kitchen and see how it feels. Ask his doctor or physical therapist about the height if you can.

Who Should Skip It

If you need to sit down every hundred yards, skip this and get a rollator with a seat. I have one and I would not trade it. The cane does not give you a place to rest and it is not meant to.

If you need to put real weight through your arms, skip this too. A one pound aluminum cane is not a crutch and it is not a walker. If your therapist has you taking weight through your hands, this is the wrong tool and you will feel it in the first week. Also skip it if most of your walking is on soft ground, loose gravel, or a lawn. The wide base works, but a single tip settles into that ground better and you will spend a month learning the difference.

And if you are buying it hoping it will keep you from falling, understand what it is. It is steadiness, a third point of contact, something to hold while you get your feet under you. It is not a guarantee, and it is not meant to be. I have not fallen, before the surgery or after, and I credit the cane, the rollator, the bed rail, the shower chair, and a wife who notices when I am getting tired. Mostly the wife.