As my temperature climbed higher and the more lethargic we soon realized that I was battling something more than a lack of energy, but the flu, which later became pneumonia. This has given me an access of time to sit around and think! The worse I felt the more my thoughts drifted back to times over the past couple of years when Randy has had to be my nurse and caregiver. I haven’t written a great deal about my propensity for being in the wrong place at the right time, but today I have decided to fill you in on some of my adventures since coming to the farm.
I think it should have been a hint of my predisposition to clumsiness when during one of my first visits I and my handful of leftover enchiladas tumbled into the front porch. Nothing was hurt except my pride and my enchiladas, but the dogs were the benefactors of that mishap. Randy was very sensitive to my embarrassment and we moved right past the moment into laughter. I would like to blame it on snow, ice, or some other act of nature but really I think I didn’t know the path and lost my balance
. 
Everything seemed fine for several months until August. We were spending the day like any other summer day on the farm, feeding cows, brushing horses and battling thistles. We had finished chores and were off to play with the horses. We had been riding “Home Dawg” and his mother “Grandma” short rides near the barn but this day Randy, his brother Larry and I were at the farm at the same time and we decided to all three get on a horse and take a ride. It felt like the perfect day for a group ride. I had what I believed to be a special relationship with “Home Dawg.” On a trip to the vet to heal an infected hoof he leaned on me and rested his head into my neck as Dr. Stan worked on his foot as though he was pretending to hide from reality. I was very touched that he appeared to have such trust in me that he sought my shoulder for comfort and to take cover. Because of this and other tender moments I shared with him of course I chose to ride “Home Dawg”. Off we went with the sun on our face. Everything was going beautifully! We rode to the pond and everyone was happy then we headed back to the barn. I let the other two go ahead of me thinking that “Dawg” would like to be able to see where his pals were. “Home Dawg” had never been separated from his mom so he was always more content when she was within eye shot. As quick as a breeze and without any warning “Dawg” put his head down and kicked his hind feet up. I hadn’t done much riding since I was a teenager, but having broken a horse the memory of what happens prior to being launched into space and how it feels to get bucked off came flying back into every cell in my body. I had enough sense and time to get my feet out of the stirrups so as not to get my feet caught and get kicked or dragged over hill and dale. At this point I had no intention of becoming the bucking bronco champ of Gentryville. I no more had dislodged my feet and thought maybe I could throw one leg over and slide off when away I went flying in the air. I felt like a misfired missile with no particular target. I vaguely remember hitting the ground a few times. I need to add at this point that the Gentryville farm is a variable mine field of rocks. I remember my head rattling as it hit and then my right side, hip back somehow all struck the ground nearly simultaneously in a rapid fire motion. I didn’t have an ounce of breath left in my lungs. My first thought was can I move? I had enough good sense left in my jostled brain that I knew I had to try to relax and see if breath would return to my lungs. When I tried to roll over flat I was in so much pain I went back to the fetal position and quickly realized that relaxing wasn’t probably the right term for what I could do but I did need to stay calm and allow the lungs to recharge. It was reassuring to hear Randy’s voice; it was my first sign that I was still here on this plane with him… the pain was the second clue. Randy was asking me questions while trying to evaluate my mental and physical status. Of course his first question was, “Are you OK?” Clearly the answer was NO. I don’t know as I really answered since I had no breath but think I gave him a whisper. Then he asked, “Do you need to go to the hospital?” He really didn’t know me as well as he thought because my answer again was, “No.” After the first unsuccessful attempts of moving me I heard the two brothers conversing about my condition and position. I heard Larry say, “I don’t like her head being downhill.” Randy agreed but they were hesitant to move me at this point. In my haze I wondered to myself, “Why are they worried about my head being downhill when I have so many other issues to worry about.” One concern was; had I punctured a lung with a fractured rib, did I crush a vertebrae, break a hip, shoulder or arm??? They spoke a bit more then Randy leaned over and said, “You know you have to go to the hospital, don’t you?” and with that I made a silent concession to the obvious. From the launch through most of the day still remains a bit blurry but there are events and moments that stand out. The guys gathered me into one truck, called Randy’s son with a new smoother ride to come and take me the distance to the hospital. I vaguely remember some conversation over which hospital would be best. Since I still was not able to fill my lungs with air and talk, they opted for the closest. Off we went to the nearby hospital. The Albany Hospital is small and surrounded by farmland on all four sides of town. Injuries like mine were nothing new to them, in fact, nearly every person that cared for me that day had a story about getting bucked off a horse, ran over by pig, cow or some such farm event. Most of my caregivers had been bucked off a horse at least once in their life... X-rays were taken and I was checked over. Once I got an injection to relax my body the air slowly started filling my lungs more quickly. It appeared that my lungs had not been punctured, I was going to hurt for a long time but I would heal. I was very proud of my blood pressure being normal of course I didn’t take into account at that moment I was still in shock and of course my blood pressure would be low, but I needed something to be positive about and that was it for that day! Off they sent me with prescriptions that they assured me I would need to be able to move and I am sad to say they were correct.
We were to return to St. Louis that evening and I was to be back to work the next day to prepare food for a large group. Randy decided that he would get the car packed up and we would head back before the injection they gave me for pain wore off (GOOD PLAN!) That is just what we did. I drifted in and out of sleep most of the ride to St. Louis but I couldn’t get the conversation Randy and Larry had about my head being downhill out of my head. I was running through all the likely scenarios for why they didn’t think it was a good idea. As I started to wake up a bit I decided to ask Randy about their conversation. I said, “It was very sweet of Larry to be worried about me, but why was he worried about my head being downhill?” Was he worried about internal injuries or head trauma? What was it?” Randy took a slow deep breath and then guardedly said, “I don’t know how to tell you this but everything we know about medicine we learned from a cow? If a cow is sick and has its head down hill they usually die because all of their organs push down against their lungs and it makes it impossible for them to breathe or to get up. We just thought we needed to get your head uphill.” When I inquired what they usually did to move them he explained that they would put a log chain around their neck and pull them up hill. I had seen the log chain trick months prior to rescue a Mama Cow that was in trouble. I painfully held back laughter and said I was really glad that they didn’t get the log chain out to use to pull me to the barn. After a good laugh and once he realized I took it all in good nature, Randy explained to me that everything he knew about medicine he learned from a cow. Initially I wasn’t sure how to take his admission; I was hoping it wasn’t because I reminded him of a cow, he assured me that wasn’t the case, but that when there are health issues or something goes wrong with people it helps him when he relates it to his experience with cattle.
As a follow up, "Home Dawg" has since been diagnosed with "Moon Blindness” which is a chronic, painful eye disease and it's the most common cause of blindness in horses. We believe that the other horses were out of sight by his good eye and he panicked. I am sure he thought if he got the extra weight off his back he could catch up faster. Managing a blind horse has been challenging but right now he is doing much better. Initially he ran into a lot barriers and he had to learn how to manage drinking from the pond and staying out of the way from the bossy horse, Haylee. “Home Dawg” has regained the weight that he lost when his loss of sight peaked and he seems to be able to maneuver the obstacles with more ease and fewer bumps and bruises. I too have recovered from most of my bumps and bruises and have been on a horse since but “Home Dawg” has been retired from the saddle.
I Love The Farm
And
I Love You Randy!
Click to play: GeneAutry - BackInTheSaddleAgain
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