This Broken Body Rides Again!

The summer of 2012 was my summer of healing.  For the better part of a year I had been sidelined by riding injuries.  First a fractured vertebrae then a seriously fractured arm. 

When last I blogged I was given the word that my useless paralyzed arm was going to take up to a year to regain use of.   I think most of you know that I said “F&*# You” to that. 



Logan, the 4 year old OTTB therapy
horse. As part of my PT exercises
 I put a grooming mit on my
 paralyzed hand and rubbed him
all over his body.

I’ve been asked why I haven’t kept up with writing the chronicle of my recovery that I started with much one-handed-typing gusto last July.  I can’t count the times I sat down to start writing – but stopped after one sentence. 

I think what stopped me was the lack an inner fortitude to really get back on a horse.  Each time I went to the doctor I faithfully asked him when I could ride again.  He faithfully told me “not yet”.  And each time I breathed a huge sigh of relief, my racing heart would calm down and my stomach would quit flipping around.

Silly, silly…..stupid…I kept telling myself.   Even when the doctor revealed that he had “missed” an additional fracture in my humerus that took me back several steps in my Physical Therapy there was a teeny, tiny inner part of me that said “whew, I don’t have to face the demon saddle yet!”

In spite of the fear I was committed to getting back the use of my arm as fast as possible.  I figured I’d face the fear of the evil stirrup when the time really did come when the doctor said “yes”.

The hand therapy team I worked with are surely miracle workers.  That one year prognosis was given the first week of July.  By mid-August I had about 85% of the use back of my hand and arm.  One day I noticed I could use 1 finger to hold down the shift key while typing, then I could actually start using that finger to type a little.  I was now a one-handed + one-fingered typist.  Within a couple of weeks the other fingers joined up one by one.  I could now drive my car but because of that hidden fracture I couldn’t be weight bearing.

The doctor gave me a target date of September 12^th to get back on a horse. But by this time I was determined that I’d actually just sit on a horse for Red Rock Hounds’ annual showing at the Franktown Hunter Derby several days prior.  I knew I could do it.  But damn it, I was scared.

I picked Logan as my re-entry horse.  The youngest at four and greenest horse I have.  What, was I crazy?   But Logan is an old soul whom I completely trust.  After all, he was the horse who at three and barely off the track that I put my close friend Scout, a 50-something beginner, on to take on a 3-day hunting trip! 

Kristi McBain was tasked with getting Logan prepped for me.  Goodness knows what needed to be “prepped” because he couldn’t waste the energy to spook, buck or spin – or even break into a trot! 

The moment for me to swing a leg over a horse came when my bestest friend Sarah was here from Virginia to give me moral support.  I got on while Kristi patiently stood by his head in case he bolted.  Hahaha!  Then she walked me around the arena like a kid on a pony ride, me clutching his mane and barely able to open my eyes.  Soon she stepped away and the fear started to ease just a little.  I can’t remember if I even trotted that first day.  I think I did but the main thing is I survived and didn’t embarrass myself by wetting the saddle.  I got off and hugged and kissed Logan. I think I cried a little too but I’m not sure if they were tears of fear or happiness. Logan just wanted a cookie – he got a whole bunch!

The next step was to go to Red Rock and ride around the ranch for a couple of days before the Hunter Derby.   Where I got my inner courage I have no idea but while Sarah and I were on a ride I found myself wanting to trot, then canter slowly and then I looked over at Sarah and said “let’s go”!   She riding Devon and I riding Logan galloped down the dirt roads behind the ranch.  YES!!!  It felt so GREAT!  

But the next day my joy was swiftly dashed when Logan came out lame.  We had been battling a heel bruise all summer with him and it was nearly healed.  Until I galloped him down the hard dirt road.   Now that’s what I call stupid!  Poor Logan had another bruised heel and he was off duty for carrying me to the Hunter Derby. 

Preston begged me not to ride.  He knew my fear and he was afraid too.  And, probably really done with having an invalid wife for the better part of the past year.  He was over me being a princess and wanted me to start carrying my weight (no pun intended - the “Fracture 15" is whole other blog!) around the barn and ranch.  Can’t blame the guy!

But the customary Wagner determination won out and I decided to ride Devon at the Derby.   Devon can be pretty fiery but I knew him well and was pretty confident in the ride.

The demonstration ride went well as we galloped around the arena following Lynn and the hounds.  I did my traditional passing of the flask to the audience.  What fun – but it was over way too fast!

As we galloped out I tried to hold Devon back with one hand while I was putting my flask in the pommel case on my saddle with the other. I was leaning up and over Devon’s neck trying to situate the flask when Devon sprung his head right into my face.

My lower face and nose hurt a little but not too much. Unfortunately, I quickly discovered something was missing – a front tooth!  As I continued galloping now attempting to fish the wayward tooth out of my mouth with my flask hand I burst out laughing. I galloped up to Preston turned to face him and presented him with the biggest smile.  His face went white and he nearly fell off Baxter.

Red Neck Fox Hunter

The rest of the day amidst jokes that I was going to start a Red Rock Hounds Redneck division, I could only laugh at myself. What else is a girl to do when she’s dressed in her finest formal hunt attire and attending a swanky  tent party with a missing front tooth? Fortunately, that tooth had had a root canal so there was no pain or blood. 

But behind the laughter I had a weird feeling – was this some sort of message?  C’mon my first outing and I break something else? 

I fought that feeling and rode as often as I could in our arena.  Some days there was hardly any fear, others I could barely break into a trot – and on some days I just walked with a hunk of mane in my hands.

OTTB Kindred giving me back my confidence

Ever so gradually I started doing a little more – even jumping tiny fences.  But even now the thought of jumping a coop in the hunt field make me want to vomit. 



Even the smallest of jumps still make
me nervous!

By Red Rock Opening Day I successfully led the Leisure Field of about 15 riders and continued to do so for several more weeks.   I switched between Kindred and Logan as my trusted partners.   Eventually a breakthrough came when I rode Kindred in MFH/Huntsman Lynn Lloyd’s  “pocket” one day in early November.  We galloped across rough country for several hours and that lovely horse gave me the confidence of a Grand Prix rider – minus the coops!

Logan and I at the Red Rock road trip in
McDermitt in November.  

Logan and Kindred – there’s no money in the world that could replace those two horses for me.  Logan has quickly learned to navigate sagebrush and is now galloping across any sort of terrain on the buckle.  Seriously, I bet I could drop the reins, hold a flask in one hand and a camera in the other and just gallop along on him.    I’m not quite ready to try that yet but check back in a few months and I might be there.  But those coops…..racing heart and gagging.  I have a ways to go with them!

I know someday there will be another fall.  It goes with riding horses. It comes to mind often as I’m galloping across the hunting terrain.   I frequently find myself grabbing the breast collar and hanging on to let Logan or Kindred, whomever I happen to be on that day, do their job of keeping me on their back and off the ground.  But instead of white-faced fear there’s a smile on my face.

That’s what it means to have a partner in your horse.  How lucky am I to have not one but two remarkable partners!   They are my heroes.

 

 

Look What I Can Do Today!

The surgery is over, I’ve recovered from the havocs of anesthesia and my arm is screwed and plated in place so it shouldn’t fall off anytime soon.  It was a helluva June! 

Now, as they say, the real work begins. Yesterday, I learned that my one-hooved/pawed/handed status will be part of my life for awhile.  Up to a year, the hand therapy experts say. I gulped as she gave me that prognosis. I felt my eyes start to tear up.  I was thinking 6 -8 weeks.  A year? Crap!  Well, that’s not exactly what I said.

Doing my hand exercises

She followed up with reassurances that she was super impressed with what I’ve been able to accomplish so far (pulling the lid off a half open can of cat food!) and all the “horse people” she’s worked with over the years have a special determination that speeds up progress.  Hooray for us horse-folks – we have guts!

After digesting that information and brushing the tears away we delved into the mechanics of what’s wrong with my arm.  There are multiple issues from my shoulder to my fingertips, many just resulting from the trauma to the arm and several weeks of immobilization.  Fairly typical for the type of fracture I had and routinely addressed with physical therapy.  But, noooo, I wouldn’t do something “routine”.  I have to be different!

When my arm fractured the radial nerve which runs from the shoulder to fingers was damaged.  This has left me with a condition called Radial Neuropathy and Palsy (ICD-9-CM code 354.3 or ICD-10-CM code 656.31).  In plain English it means my arm and hand is partially paralyzed with the hand and fingers most acutely affected.  For inquiring minds, here’s more information - Radial Nerve Dysfunction.

In terms of my life it means I can’t do things like two-handed keyboarding (yep, I’m typing this with one hand),  use my camera, drive, microchip a cat, saddle a horse (yet!), hold a brush to blow dry my hair, shave my left armpit, uncork a bottle of wine, hold the phone and write/type with the other or even take a shirt off that’s not stretchy or has buttons.  Well…..you get the idea.

But let’s talk about what I can do with one hand.  I can halter and lead a horse, keyboard with increasing speed, give a horse a bath, pill a cat  (I’m especially proud of this!) and pull weeds in the garden. Oh yeah, don’t worry, except for the armpit I can do all that stuff.  Personal hygiene as it is so politely called.

My right arm and hand isn’t completely useless.  Everyday I’m finding new things I can do.  Last week I couldn’t fold any laundry.  This week I can fold towels. I discovered last night that I can draw up a cat vaccine.  I can hold a teaser for the cats’ playtime although Stella gets feisty and can pull it out my hand.  I can carry a lightweight, empty feedbucket a few feet (definitely couldn’t do that last week).  I’ve started using my right arm to assist in pulling on my pants.  I  can even operate the page forward/backward buttons on my Kindle – woo-hoo!! And, I’m pretty darn proud at the gesture I was able to do to express my disagreement with that blasted one year timeline!

I have a plethora of exercises to do everyday between twice weekly therapy appointments.  I’ve been assured that the burning pain in my hand will decrease soon and functionality will continue to progress but the fingers are at the end of the line for regaining use. 

As I settle into my routine exercises of manually spreading the fingers apart on my right hand with my left or gripping a table top with my thumb and forefinger, I’ll have plenty of time to reflect what’s good in my life. 

I have a super supportive husband (if not sometimes a little pushy), an in-house advice nurse with my sister and an unlimited number of friends who are spoiling me rotten (can anyone say Princess?).  I’m blessed with a job that I’m able to perform perfectly well even with my limitations.  FieldHaven is a pretty awesome place to be “stuck” at!  And, I am surrounded by my kitties, my hound and my beautiful horses. Hey, this is starting to not sound so bad!

This morning I watched news reports of Aimee Copeland, the 24 year old Georgia woman with necrotizing fasciitis, leaving the hospital where she’s been for  two months for rehab. Aimee left behind both hands, both feet and a leg – all amputated to save her life.  Yet her dad said she “is very excited”.

Mmmmmm…….I think I’m a pretty lucky girl!  I will get to use my hand again some day. Unlike Aimee.  And it WILL be less than a year.  MUCH LESS.

A June To Forget

It was just after Memorial Day and the summer was really looking to be a spectacular.  I had just returned from a 3 week trip that stretched from Montana (fox-hunting), New Jersey (visiting mom) and New York state (a revitalizing week at Healing Spirits Herb Farm – I still need to blog about that magical place).  My garden planting was well under way in preparation for Classics, Cats and Cabernet and I had 5 fabulous horses to work with over the summer.  Preston and I were planning on doing some boating and a few other fun things through the summer.

Physically,  I was feeling better than I had in a long time.  The lumbar fracture that marred the hunt season was in the past and I rode in Montana full-gallop ahead.  Then after the life-altering visit to Healing Spirits (yes, I will write that blog soon) I was on top of the world.  Tons of energy and feeling like a 20 year old rider in the saddle.  Well, OK, I still wasn’t able to ride a course – or even 1 jump – without stirrups.  But I definitely was getting my riding mojo back.

Feeling great in the saddle
May 29

In fact, on the morning of May 30^th I posted this picture on Facebook that Preston took of me and Taylor the night before.  The comment I made was “Feels good to be back in shape and riding full steam ahead after a long 6+ months on layup!”

Jaxon and I about 4 steps before SPLAT!
May 30

That evening Preston was in the arena me setting fences and snapping a few pictures while I schooled Jaxon.  I had jumped about 3 warmup fences when about 3 steps after the jump just as we were turning left Jaxon stumbled and I flew off right.  I landed hard and it seemed at first that I just knocked the wind out of me.  As I regained my breath my arm felt weird.  I told Preston that I thought it was broke. At first he said no then he touched it.  Bones moved. Yep, broke. 

He asked me if I wanted ambulance or should he get the car.  The car of course.  After all, it’s just a fractured arm – not worthy of calling an ambulance.  However, while he was getting the car the pain started coming.  And, this overwhelming feeling that my arm would fall off if anyone touched me. 

By the time Preston came back with the car I said F$%^ the car, call an  ambulance.  And NOW! 

My friend Peri was there by then.  I remember them both asking me if they could take off my helmet.  I said no, because I thought my arm would fall off if they did.  F#$^, just get the ambulance.

My in-agony language was colorful.  F#$&, it hurts.  F#$&, where’s the ambulance.  F$%* it hurts.

I laid there by myself for several minutes as Preston put Jaxon away and Peri went off to get some F%^&ing ice that I thought would make the F$%ing pain go away.

Finally, the ambulance did arrive and the crew was wonderful.  They got me up, took my helmet off after convincing me my arm wouldn’t fall off and settled me in the ambulance.  The EMT started an IV as we headed down Virginiatown. I felt every little bump in the road.  “Oucch”, “darn that hurt”, “Crap”.  She told me I could use better words and she wouldn’t be offended.  I giggled a little as the morphine and versed started to work. I uttered not one more F%&.

Ouch!

I don’t remember a whole lot about the rest of that night but Preston and Peri could probably give you a few laughs.  They kept me well sedated – so much so that I started to forget to breath regularly. 

About 6 hours and a huge immobilizer on my arm later, I slightly remember turning around and looking around the room we had occupied.  Arena sand was everywhere!  And, I still had my boots, half-chaps and spurs on.  Just like a real cowgirl.  But no helmet.

By the time I got to surgery it was 2 weeks later on June 13.  Just 3 days before our annual fundraiser. I told the surgeon that I had about 400 of my closest cat-loving friends coming to my house on Saturday and I would love it if we could do the surgery sooner.  He was unfazed by that fact and, no, that was the soonest.

I spent a pampered 2 ½  days in the hospital with wonderful nursing care and plenty of sleep – lots of sleep.

Doc was supposed to come by Friday morning to discharge me.  Nursing staff started trying to reach him at lunchtime.  They were finally able to get him to return their page at 9:45. PM.  My sister picked me up at 10:30 pm and I arrived home at 11pm, only 15 hours before CC & C was to begin.

Forgetting all about the arm and focusing on the kitties

God Bless everyone who made the event go off successfully.  It was 104 degrees but the guests came and they spent money.  They dressed me up like a 3-legged cat, gave me my allottment of pain meds and sent me into the crowd.  I don’t remember a whole lot of the day except that I was all over the property talking to people.  I don’t know what I said but it appeared a good time was had by all.  And, $42,000 was raised for the kitties.

The rest of June I pretty much spent sleeping and working.  Oh yeah, and eating.  I kept telling myself that my body needed lots of nutrients to heal.  Is that true?

I’m done with June.  Bring on July!

Tally Slo – The Leisure Field Debuts at Ridgecrest Joint Meet

Great ideas are sometimes borne out of desperation.

In my case, the desperation was to get back on a horse after a lumbar fracture at the beginning
of the hunt season. Having already sat out much of the season, I just couldn’t see myself not riding at the annual joint meet in Ridgecrest, CA. Hounds and members of Red Rock Hounds, Kingsbury Harriers, Santa Ynez Hounds, Grand Canyon Hounds, Paradise Valley Beagles, as well as members of several eastern hunts all come together for three days of hunting, eating, drinking and mingling with great friends and fantastic animals.

Riding was definitely not on my list of “can do” activities but give me a quiet horse and a promise to only walk then no harm can be done, right?

Normally, I ride in First Field and love nothing more than to gallop fast behind the pack so this idea of walking was a tremendous compromise. But at least I'd be on a horse.

The concept of leading a field of others who may not want to run, gallop or navigate steep ravines and rocky mountains started to formulate. In fact, I have three friends who wanted to try hunting but were apprehensive about riding fast and furious. Two of the three had actually joined Red Rock Hounds for the 2011-12 season but hadn’t yet ventured out to the hunt field. The timing was right for the opportunity to introduce them to the excitement of following the hounds.

The Ridgecrest fixtures are ideal to start out in fox hunting. The country has terrific footing, gentle terrain with wide open spaces and the weather is usually very non-January-like. It couldn’t be better to introduce my friends to the excitement of riding to the hounds. And, maybe some others would want to join us.

Red Rock MFH, Lynn Lloyd gave me her blessing to add a field for people who wanted to join the hunt but at a slower pace. A much slower pace. In fact, at a leisurely pace.

The inaugural outing of the Leisure Field was at the Robbers Roost fixture in Ridgecrest. To minimize the mayhem surrounding the first day of a large joint meet we waited to mount up until the dual packs of Red Rock and Santa Ynez, along with riders from all the hunts, had ridden off in search of the elusive coyote trail.

Our Leisure Field of about ten embarked on our journey at a decidedly un-brisk pace. Best described as an ambling walk, we had only gone several yards when we had our first viewing – a very fast jackrabbit!

Tally-Slo!

Because I knew we’d be traveling long distances over unfamiliar hunt country I brought along my GPS BackTrack D-Tour to track our distance, elevation and, most importantly, to find our way back to the fixture. Our sauntering pace gave us opportunity to discuss hunting protocol, etiquette and principals to help our rookie hunt enthusiasts become knowledgeable about their new activity. We had some great conversations but I did inform everyone that once they graduated to First or Second Fields their chatting ways would be silenced in respect of the hounds and huntsmen.

Our first check occurred when my field mentioned the need for a break. A quick glance at my GPS declared we had gone about 569 yards – yes, perfect timing for check. We were met by the “Whoopie Wagon”, piloted by Ron Crossley, completely stocked with water, power bars and courage-inducing liquids for flask refills. Ron also provided horse holding and mounting assistance for riders who had a need to take a walk behind a bush.

After re-mounting, we continued our journey to the top of Robbers’ Roost – 2.1 miles from the fixture where, of course, we had another check!

Scout Valentine, an apprentice falconer and wildlife expert riding in the Leisure Field, treated the field to an enlightening mini-lecture on the birds and wildlife indigenous to Robbers’ Roost, a nesting ground for birds of prey.

As we descended Robbers' Roost we used our GPS to point us in the right direction for the fixture. Of course, we could see the horse trailers way off in the distance but it was more fun to use the GPS. Frankly, we didn't need our eyesight or techie tools to find our way back. As soon as we turned towards the fixture our field hunters accelerated from their sluggish, dawdling pace to a brisk march. Where does their inner GPS come from?

The Leisure Field arrived back at the fixture after a two hour hunt where we viewed four or more jackrabbits, a burrowing owl and numerous birds. We observed several dens, nests and tracks of the wildlife that call Robbers’ Roost home. We even came back with a partial jawbone from a bobcat. While we didn’t view a coyote that day we surely did see plenty of evidence of the clever animals’ existence.

During the three days of the joint meet the Leisure Field gained popularity. Not limited to riders that were new to hunting, we were joined by others that desired a quiet day or had horses being introduced to hunting or were fractious in First or Second Fields. This enjoyable, non-fearful introduction to fox-hunting proved addictive to my three rookie friends. At the close of the meet one of the new-but-not-yet-hunted members had purchased a new horse, the other is contemplating a new mount or some hunt training for her current one and the non-member is now a member of Red Rock Hounds.

What started out as a lark and in my own self-interest to getting back in the saddle may well have started a new idea for introducing and recruiting new participants to the joys of riding to the hounds. Several members of other hunts mentioned they wanted to take the idea of a Leisure Field to their hunt management to consider the idea.

A Leisure Field, or whatever you chose to label it, is an idea for every hunt in need of new members to consider. We have all been new to fox hunting at some point and could've benefitted from a mentoring program to learn all about our new pursuit. Experienced members may have had a horse that needs a gentle introduction to their job of field hunter or, like myself, have an injury where we’ve been banned from the saddle by our medical providers but in need a “hunting fix”. I truly had a delightful time teaching my rookie field members and encouraging them to join us in following the hounds in the future.

Fox Hunting has so many misconceptions. We’re thought of as crazy, running fast, jumping high and traversing through all sorts of treacherous country on a horse that can jump anything. So maybe the “crazy” and “run fast” part is true for some of us. If you want to jump then, yes, your horse would best have that skill. Yet, following the hounds CAN be for the faint of heart! As evidenced by the debut of the Leisure Field we can engage new membership for a whole faction of horse, nature and hound-loving people by offering an introduction that is not overwhelming (ie, frightening!). The Leisure Field is also a superb way to introduce a green horse to the hounds and the hunt or to re-introduce a seasoned horse who is unfit or returning to work after an injury layup.

It just makes so much sense! Too bad I had to break my back to think of it!

It’ll be several more weeks until I can ride again (yes, Ridgecrest was strictly in violation of doctor’s recommendations) but once I’m back in the saddle for good it’ll be even more weeks until I can move back up to First Field. You can be sure during that time I’ll be leading out the Leisure Field every chance I can.

And, even after I'm back up in First Field I’ll happily be the Leisure Field Master occasionally to introduce newcomers to the fun world of Red Rock Hounds. Besides, I like those frequent checks with the Whoopie Wagon!

Tally-Slo!

Photos and Videos:

Pictures from the Leisure Field: http://fieldhaven.phanfare.com/5441275

(photos courtesy of Scout Valentine, Shawn Lloyd and Joy Smith)

Video of our recap of Day 1 at Friday Night's Dinner: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLJGR1PDoF4&feature=share

Video by Shawn Lloyd: : http://vimeo.com/35175130