Right now, I think I'm in that little section with the small sea and boat. Except I might be buried under it somewhere.
Life has a way of giving you peaks and valleys. I think it's pretty fair to say I'm in a nasty valley right about now - and I'm not seeing a very practical way of hoisting up my big girl pants and climbing my way out.
My life right now. Minus the ice picks and toe clamps.
A lot has happened since I last blogged. I'll try to go in chronological order.
For starters, Trainer is no longer Trainer. This has been a Big Deal for me and something that I'm having a lot of trouble wrapping my mind around. It makes sense -- he's no longer Trainer because he's off gallivanting around Europe, and chasing his dreams with a really nice string of horses. I'm happy for him. I really am. And he'll still be around... some. But not much. There are several working theories on whether or not this will be permanent, or if he'll open a different barn or something. I don't know. But it's damn depressing. I've never ridden so well with anyone or felt like so much was possible. Previous Assistant who is now head trainer is not nearly so positive and that really bothers me.
Secondly, my grandfather, whom I mentioned in my last post, became very ill *very* quickly and this necessitated a gallop back to my homeland where I was able to help care for him in his final days. He passed away around 1 PM on the 21st of April. He was in a lot of pain. I'm grateful the end came relatively quickly for him, because nobody should have to bear that kind of pain. But it hurts, and I miss him a lot. I'm glad I was able to be there, in his final days, and in his last moments, too.
Most recently, I came back after a couple of weeks of bedside care and a really difficult funeral, and went back to trying horses. Last Friday we tried several, none of which I liked very much. I hopped on a youngish mare who went around well, but kept tripping. At one point, she tripped after what might have been a 3' oxer, got mad about it, bucked, and turned in the air. I could have sat the buck, or the turn, but combined I just had no chance. So I flew off, then proceeded to land with my full weight on my right leg, which then proceeded to basically get smashed into smithereens.
This led to me screaming in pain, the ambulance coming out, and after what seemed like a year some relief with pain medication. The result of all this fun? A very, very broken leg, dislocated ankle, bones sticking out, and little bits of bone floating around where they shouldn't be floating. The hospital where I was originally transported was not a big one, so they knocked me out cold, splinted the leg, then sent me on my miserable way to a much bigger hospital where I proceeded to have emergency surgery. The foot was losing pulse. It freaks me out to think that if it had happened 100 years earlier, or even in a place without good medical care, I would probably be dead from infection or have lost my foot totally. Gah.
So my leg now has a few plates and screws in it and is in a cast up to my knee and hurts like a bitch. I am seriously sick of being in pain. The first couple of days were the worst. I was in the hospital for five days, and post-op I had horrifying pain to the point that they finally gave me a nerve block. Day two it wore off, and led to yet more pain, and a re-appearance of my anesthesiologist (who dubbed himself the Candy Man...) who literally knocked me back out for several hours and also led to getting my own personal morphine drip. Of course, I had to react to all of this, and got massively sick to my stomach and had the opiate itches, and now have tears in my skin from scratching like crazy.
It's now been about a week since that occurred and I am not a happy camper. My leg hurts all the time, I'm too tired to exist, and I've been getting really bad nightmares about the accident over and over again. In my past horsey accidents, my head has always been involved to the point that I have only the vaguest of recollections about what happened. Not this time. It's all there in crystal clarity.
After Trainer sailed off on his merry way, I was horribly depressed and considered taking a break from riding, or possibly just quitting altogether. I don't think I ever could - not for real - and the fact that I haven't been able to see a horse for an entire week now proves that. After fighting that internal battle, I don't think I'm going to quit. But I think I'm going to be pretty careful about which horses I decide to swing a leg over from now on.
obviously this cutie pie makes that list.
In extremely weird news, as a side note, there's the smallest potential that the x-rays we did on Uno, the horse I tried and fell in love with in Florida, were read improperly. I don't know, and it's a long shot. But I guess we'll see how that turns out. Pretty unlikely anything will work out, particularly given my luck lately, but all I can do is hope.