Not the Same as Getting Back on a Bike

 We've all heard the saying that "it'll all come back when you get back on the bike" after not riding for a while.

That might be true for bicycling, roller blading, or other activities, but not for horse back riding!

First, the pictures, then the story. . . .

My face, right after fall 20 Feb 2013, 1:30-ish

Left Hand right after fall 20 Feb 2013

Right Hand, after fall, 20 Feb 2013

Profile of face, after ER visit, 20 Feb 2013, around 5pm

After ER visit, 20 Feb 2013, around 5pm

Left hand after ER visit, late night 21 Feb

Profile, morning 21 Feb 2013

Face, 22 Feb 2013

Magenta & Eggplant Eye, close up, 22 Feb 2013

Face , evening 21 Feb 2013

Face, 24 Feb 2013, Morning

Face, 23 Feb 2013

Now that you've seen the lovely damage to my face, I'd like to point out that I sustained more abrasions and bruises on other soft tissues of my body, the pictures of which are not fit for public viewing. I'd also like to take a moment to mention I didn't break any bones (though my glasses now need serious repair) and I suffered no concussion-- to my amazement.

So, if you're like one of my best friends, you're asking, "WTF?"

Well, earlier this week, um, that'd be Tues, the 19th, I'd gone in for my annual physical to the VA clinic. I was seeing a new doctor, so I was extremely nervous. Many people know I don't like doctors, in general. I liked this doctor! He was happy to run the blood work that was requested, his background in medicine prior to working for VA is 20 years as an integrative medicine doctor-- thus we saw eye-to-eye on important issues for me. His specialty was in treating patients with fibromyalgia, and he only uses Armour Thyroid (natural, desiccated thyroid hormone, typically derived from pigs), which so happens to be the thyroid medicine I have been taking since my thyroid shut down in late 2011. During the time the doctor spent with me, I named a few of my high stressors and saying, "that's actually rather typical for my life," made his eyes a bit wide (VA is big on how stressed one feels). He took the time not only to listen, but to also tell me how a chronically high stress life affects the body, and that when acute stressors come up, how they can interfere with thyroid function even if one is taking the proper dose.

The main reason I mention the doctor's appointment is because I am jokingly "blaming" him for my accident. You see, he told me during the appointment that my previous ways of coping and managing stress are not enough and I need intervention and new skills. "Okay, I agree with that. I used to crochet to relax, but then I'm reminded of the fire that took my entire yarn stash from me, which gets me worked up."

Oh, did I mention that during the long weekend (prior to my doctor's appointment) my body decided to show me it's mad at me by forming a decent sized abscess under one of my molars? After 3 days of non-stop pain (and not taking anything for it), my right jaw and face started swelling a bit and Hubby encouraged me to call the dentist's emergency number. I did so, described what was happening, and I was put on an antibiotic Monday night based on symptoms & the facial swelling. I still didn't take anything for the pain, because wasn't sure how that might affect my lab work for Tuesday. Though I usually avoid antibiotics like the plague, I knew it was called for in this case-- glad I went with my gut.

Okay, so that covers the weekend-- dental pain on right side and starting antibiotic on Monday. Tuesday was my afternoon doctor's appointment.

Wednesday morning (the 20th) was my "squeeze in" at the dentist's office to check on what was happening. Got an exam and x-ray, which revealed what I thought was a rather large abscess under one of my molar roots-- a molar that was crowned around 2009, and which I've had continual problems with (and had even questioned having it removed at that time). I refuse to have another root canal done (name one other part of the body that they leave in your body after it's dead?), so we quickly covered my options. Given my dental experience, I was familiar with them and narrowed it to two choices-- an implant or a bridge, as I need a "permanent" fixture. Had to go over setting up a tooth extraction appointment while I'm still on antibiotic (which will be tomorrow morning, unless dentist changes her mind after seeing my face), and of course, the extremely stressful part of financial costs.

You see, we've taken about a $500/month pay cut in the past few months, so finances have become more difficult for me to do.

I called Hubby while I was in the dental parking lot getting ready to leave and go home, to let him know the financial burden waiting around the corner. He was getting ready to go to work, as usual. I was tired, and stressed, and figured I'd just go home and crawl back into bed. . .

. . . that's the choice I should probably have made.

On the way home, I started crying (I'm very ashamed to admit this). Among the chaotic thoughts crowding for attention, I reflected back onto the words my mental health manager has been trying to beat into my brain, and the new echo of that from my new doctor-- "Listen to your body. Rest!" I knew I wouldn't be able to 'rest' when I got home, and couldn't face the ever-piling chores. I figured I'd break the cycle by chatting or something in one of my "comfortable" places in town-- I try to have a few places to go.

I went to the one (by a mental coin toss), and was disappointed because the person wasn't there. Yet, walking up as I was getting ready to leave was the nice horse owner from the Pig Roast, who had offered to let Girl and I come back "any time" to ride again. We haven't been back, though, as she started public school and a whole mess of other things. We chatted a bit, and the big horse was already saddled. I'd ridden the horse before, in September at the Pig Roast. I was hoping that riding the beautiful animal would bring me some comfort and peace of mind.

I rode Big Horse (I can't recall his name) in the pen for a bit, but it was muddy clay, so I asked M---- if I could take the horse out on the gravel drive. M--- hesitantly said okay, reminded me of the new bit to which the horse was sensitive. What he forgot to tell me was about the mares on the other side of the gravel drive.

Note: never mumble in Italian while riding a horse who belongs to a native Spanish speaking person! I was trying to remember something as I was nearing the end of the drive (parallel to a very busy highway) and muttered in Italian "Com'e se dice," at which the horse started a fairly faster trot (he'd been nervously trotting before, constantly looking back at his owner). I used the reigns as gently as possible to get him turned back towards the stables, but apparently I was near the mares by this time. And when I again muttered "Com'e como" in trying to remember something, the horse started running!

CRAP!! The saddle wasn't cinched tight enough for my weight, and it started sliding slightly to the right. I tried re-adjusting my weight, while holding on tighter with my legs, saying "Woah" and pulling on the reigns. I must have pulled a little too much, what with the horse being sensitive to the new bit and probably sensing my nervousness along with him having gotten spooked. Please note, Girl and I are the only people other than the owner to have ever ridden this horse. He's not a bad horse, and he was greatly confused why his master was still over by the stables, and Big Horse did not want me on him!

Each time I adjusted my weight to keep from falling, the horse maneuvered to throw me off again, with the saddle sliding about. I realized there was no way I was going to make it back to the stables while being on the back of this horse, and he wasn't stopping (in fact, he kept picking up speed!). I quickly maneuvered him closer to the grass, which was quickly running out and the gravel/paved drive coming up in a hurry; Okay, I'm going to fall before I get back. I'm going to fall and roll so that I don't get too hurt, I thought as I let go of the reign (it was a loop reign). Then, I let myself fall off the BIG running horse. "I" sort of disappeared after making that decision and telling my body what to do-- not unconscious, but dissociated. I remember there being a roll or two in there, and my wounds indicate as such. "I" came back towards the end of skidding on the right side of my face (yes, the same side where I have the abscess). I waited a brief moment before getting to my hands and knees, as the inertia of it all made me a bit dizzy. I saw poor M--- running towards me, and I wanted him to know I was alright, so I got to my hands and knees and I told him I needed a moment and also needed to find my glasses and that he could go get his horse. I got up slowly, with his help, and when he was sure I could stand on my own he went for the horse. I found my glasses at least five feet away, towards where I'd begun my fall off the horse. The popped out lens was also near by, thankfully. I noticed after I picked up my glasses that I was dripping blood from somewhere.

Shit, I hope I didn't knock out my front teeth again!!! I raised my hand to check, and was relieved to feel my front crowns still intact. I used my tongue to check the rest of my teeth-- all there. Phew, that was close. I walked back to my car and put my broken glasses in their case, then went to check on the horse.

M--- had gotten him back in the stall, and M--- got tears in his eyes when he saw me. He hugged me gently, shaking his head. I kept telling him, "It's okay. I'm fine. I'll be okay. It's not your fault." Then I turned to the horse, and put my hands along his face, gently stroking him and talking to him, "That wasn't very nice," I said to him. He lightly bit my pinky, and looked me in eye, not unlike one of our cats when she gets annoyed. M--- was already distraught, and seemed to get more upset when I told the horse in even tones to not bite me, while using the bit to get him to open and release my finger. This part was sheer luck. I still stroked him and talked in even tones, and then turned to M--- to again let him know I was okay.

There was a cold water faucet outside, and I finally noticed my hands as M--- turned on the faucet so I could rinse them. Between seeing my hands and the blood still dripping from somewhere on my face and the look on M---'s face, I knew I needed to start first aid. That was a little after 1pm.

I looked at myself in my car mirror. Oh. I tried calling Hubby at home so he could take me to ER to check for concussion, but the answering machine took my call. I tried his cell, knowing that'd be about pointless. Then I called his work, told them precisely what to tell him so he'd know to just come get me. While I waited, I'd gotten my first aid kits from the trunk of my car, M--- was still extremely worried. I got the stuff to clean up and my go-to lavender essential oil, and while taking care of my wounds I explained to M--- that this was nothing, that I had been trained by Marines, that I've applied first aid to far worse wounds on other people. After much reassurance, he went back to work at my instance.

About a quarter after 2pm, Hubby still hadn't called or shown up. I called and got transferred straight to his phone. "Are you coming to get me or not?" I asked straight away. It'd been over an hour since my fall, and the bump on my head was already larger than a golf ball and it was getting harder for me to walk-- the endorphines were declining, and my patience along with them.

"What?"  replied the voice on the other end of the line.

"I said, are you coming to get me to take me to ER? I fell off a horse over an hour ago and need to make sure I don't have a concussion!"

"Is this my wife," replied the familiar voice of Hubby.

"Yes! Didn't you get the message? I've been waiting. . . "

Finally got it all worked out for him to come get me.

Though I didn't want to go to the ER in town, it'd already been a while and I knew time is paramount when there are head injuries involved. I painfully walked into ER admissions on my own and got checked in and they were taking me in for vitals by the time Hubby got in there. I explained what happened with humor. My blood pressure was almost "normal," which is high for me, and my heart rate was pretty high, too. I got taken back to a room pretty quick, me still hobbling because I'd landed on my right hip and it was causing me severe pain by this time.

What happened at ER is a complete story in and of itself! I know this is a long entry, so I'll try to summarize. Those in the medical field will probably be aghast, as I put what happened in the order it happened.

I got changed into the hospital gown w/ assistance from Hubby and sat on the bed.
Hooked up to blood pressure cuff and pulse monitor.
Put into a C-collar to keep me from moving my head.
Hooked up to an I.V. on left arm.
Offered morphine for my pain and a medicine for my nausea. I denied both.
Briefly had my hands and faced looked at; the doctor ordered a whole bunch of x-rays of various parts and a CT scan of my face.
Got the CT scan.
Got the x-rays (at which time, I started becoming anxious-- I came in to make sure I didn't have a concussion and I hadn't even gotten checked for that!).
About 30-45 minutes of scannings and I got taken back to my room.
The abrasions on my hands were barely cleaned; the doctor said he was going to suture the jagged abrasion of my left hand.
X-rays were good-- no broken bones at all. C-collar finally removed.
The male nurse who said, "You're funny. I wish all my patients were like you. I hope the rest of the shift goes like this." saved that suturing from happening, to my gratitude.
CT scan looks good.
Tetanus booster given in my right arm.
Doctor said he wasn't going to suture because cut was jagged and suturing would increase risk of infection and yada yada yada (basically repeating what the nurse had told him, along with my Hubby's comment of it not being deep enough for that).
Bandages put onto my hands. Instructions for home care given.
"So, I don't have a concussion, right," I asked the doctor. At this point-- I am not making this up, Hubby can verify-- the doctor finally quickly looked at my eyes with his pen light and had me follow his finger! "No," said the doctor, "and it would have shown up in the scans if so. . . Just soft tissue damage."

!!!!!!

I was released to go home.

Even though I was taking an oral, broad spectrum antibiotic, the abrasions on my hands started getting infected that evening! I had to clean them and soak them in warm salt water, apply my essential oils & other oils and re-bandage them! I'm glad I didn't wait until the next morning to check them. Geez.

Because of the lack of basic medical attention from ER, I did something out of the ordinary for me-- I scheduled a follow up appointment with my doctor who I'd met earlier that week. If the staff couldn't even handle minor abrasions, then what might be wrong with my poor head?

By the time of the follow up on Thursday, I'd talked to my mom who was already discharged from her total hip replacement surgery on Tuesday, and she had informed me she suffered two adrenal crashes (she has Addison's, which is permanent adrenal failure) and had almost died Thursday morning because the staff wasn't giving her enough of the medication for her adrenals.

How is that for a busy week?

And that doesn't even cover all of it!

My thanks to my supportive Hubby and two great kids who have been letting me get much needed rest, and even helping with some of the chores around the house.

In case you're still with me (I know this is a long entry), I'd like to mention that while we are always busy and have always had a colorful life, I have truly never experienced anything quite like this. I've through a lot, to say the least. But this is the most physical injuries/traumas I have sustained at one time. Physical damage: abrasions to my right side of face, both hands, right hip/waist, left knee & bruises everywhere named and some that have more recently appeared in random areas.
Oh, yeah, and I tore a finger nail!

Tomorrow's adventure. . . another tooth extraction. I know, I know, if only I had knocked that molar out when I fell off the horse I could have saved myself $80. . . but that doesn't cover the couple grand that the bridge is going to cost.

~Cedeham~
p.s.
On my doctor f/u, he said no more horses and to try "sitting meditation." I told him, "I was sitting," to which he replied, "Not on horse!" :-)
My doctor also told me, after seeing all the x-rays and CT scan, "They gave you 3 years of radiation in that one time!"
p.p.s.
I have every intention on getting back on Big Horse, but I think I'll spend some time working with him and letting him get used to me first. I think he felt my anxiety that day. Horses are intuitive, and I didn't listen him.

Lovely, eh?