Let the healing begin


Let the Healing Begin
Behind my very swollen ankle are some of the tools that will help me get around.

When I was sitting in the back of the ambulance, going from the hospital to rehab, I realized that the last time I was in an ambulance, was also horse related. When I was just barely pregnant with my son, about 23 years ago, I rode a horse owned by a trainer friend of mine. The horse had been treated for EPM. I didn’t know much about the disease and certainly didn’t know that one of the things that EPM horses did was fall suddenly. That’s exactly what this horse did. He was trotting along the long side of the ring and then he dropped like a stone. To add insult to injury, he kicked me on the way up.

Since my accident countless people have told me about times when their horses fell while being ridden. Some were hurt badly. Some walked away without a scratch. Everyone agreed that it happened in a blink of an eye.

That time I was lucky. I was fine, except for some bruises. My son was fine. I walked away.

This time, I won’t be walking for awhile. I’m learning how to stand on one foot, pivot on my heel and transfer to a second surface that, in the physical world only a few inches away. In my world, it becomes a chasm. I’m learning to trust the PT helpers and nurses. No one has dropped me yet. I’m learning what I can do without aggravating my ankle. I’m learning that it will take a long time before I’m going to be doing anything that remotely resembles “normal.”

I have a window in my room at the rehab hospital. If I look way out over the parking lot, the trails at Fairhaven Bay are off in the distance. On the other side of Route 2, a mere couple of miles away, Freedom and Zelda are hanging out in their paddocks.

One of my friends checked on Zelda yesterday and said she was fine but being very, very careful on the ice. She’s a smart girl. Because it’s been very icy out there.

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7 thoughts on “Let the healing begin

    1. Thanks, Lauren — Keeping a sense of humor about this may be the only thing that saves me. I’m not able to sustain that humor every minute of the day, but I can usually find something that’s so ridiculous that I have to see the funny side of it.

  1. Very sorry to see you in pain. Yes, trust your PT helpers. I loathed mine when I dislocated my knee, but I realize now (many years later) I would have more complications had I not followed their advice. Rest well and keep us posted.

  2. I sincerely hope and wish for a speedy and eventless (aka no drama) recovery for you. You’re a fighter, you have 2 beautiful horses to get back to, so I’m sure your body will cooperate in this endeavor!
    Poor Zelda, she’s probably completely weirded out, suddenly falling can’t be easy for a horse to process.

  3. So very sorry to hear about your injuries! I can not imagine what it is like to have injuries on both legs and a broken collarbone. I have had all of them, but only one at a time. Colleen Carney let me use her compression boots (for my broken leg) and I can not say enough about how wonderful they are!! Wishing you a speedy recovery! Let me know if I can help in any way.

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