The Cast....

Most people, at some time in their lives, end up with a cast on an appendage. A majority get that little "rite of passage" over and done with early, often before hitting high school. Most of the children I've seen with casts don't even pay attention to having a limb restrained. A day or two to acclimate and off they go, slamming it into doors and using it as a weapon against their friends or to garner sympathy from their elders.

I've already had one cast, on my leg to stabilize a crush injury which was a story in it self. I was about 27...later then most for their first cast. I was in a job that, while physically demanding, offered sick time and I was able to weather the incapacitation with a pair of crutches and good humor since my living wasn't compromised. It was an inconvenient vacation with no real harm done.

Skipping to 2008 is a different story. I'm self employed as a horse trainer, in itself physically demanding (at least the horses I train) and a job where you really need to be on your game all the time. Perhaps not always the "A" game, but certainly a decent "B" contest. Reasoning with a horse is not always an option and they just don't understand the concept of "could you take it easy on me for awhile, I have this broken bone". If they were capable of reasonable discourse, I'm sure it would go something like :

Horse: "Hey, what's that thing on your arm"?

Me: "It's a cast."

Horse: " What's that for"?

Me: "It's used to stabilize a broken bone"

Horse: " OH MY GOODNESS!!! YOU BETTER RUN AWAY!!!!!"

Me: "Why?????"

Horse: "Well, they'll SHOOT you!!!!!"

Me: "Um, they don't shoot humans for broken bones...."

Horse: " Whatayamean they don't shoot humans, they shoot horses!!!"

Me: "Well, um, they just don't...."

And I would walk away mumbling about how unfair life is for our furry and hooved brethren and the horse would walk away thinking, "easy on her? EASY on her??? They'd shoot me and SHE wants me to be EASY on her? Fat chance!"

Which puts me in the predicament of having to be VERY careful of which horses I ride while in a cast and to be careful even on the "easy" horses. Because it's usually the easy horses that get me. Not the fire-breathing, high jumping, eyes bugging out,quaking basket case of a 3 year old just off the farm for the first time. No, it's the been there, done that, seen that, got the t-shirt (OK, horse blanket) been around the block a zillion times older horse that will do it. You see, when I'm on the young, unstable (sorry, punny!) horse I have my "A-game" right there with me the whole time or I don't get on. I'm ready....I'm thinking......I'm reading every move that horse makes and it can't take a breath without me noticing. But put me on that older experienced horse on a nice sunny day with a good half hour training session behind and we're walking along enjoying the breeze, cooling off and KAPOW!!!!!! Just wasn't expecting that wasp to get stuck under the edge of that saddle pad and the rodeo begins and ends just as quick as it started. And I'm on the ground, spitting out sand and cleaning the dirt out of my ears waiting for the bells to stop and the world to come back into focus. With the horse standing there looking at me saying "Wow, did you feel that?"

Sadly, that's not how I came to have a cast on my wrist. I hate to admit it, but I don't know how it happened. Honest! When you work around horses and on a farm, bruises and pain are just a part of daily life. You shake it off, "cowboy up" and move on. The pain seemed to originate in my lower thumb joint. I thought it was arthritis....the Orthopedic Doctor thought it was arthritis for 3 months. Then, when it didn't get any better, the MRI was prescribed. Wasn't I surprised when I went in for my follow-up with the Orthopod who says "You have a fracture of your navicular bone as confirmed by the MRI and throws a cast on my arm. The only compromise he would agree to was to let me use my 4 fingers if I let him take my thumb. The whole thumb. And so it was done, in vivid purple. If I have to have it cast, why hide it? As I walked out of the office, I felt myself sinking a little lower on the evolutionary ladder. After all, thumbs are what separate us from the "lower" animals. Some people say it's brains, but there are alot of people out there who are significantly dumber then animals, but they still have a better job and benefits because of those thumbs.

The Grass Season..

Most people I know think the life my husband and I have on our farm is rather ideallic...green grass, horses calmly grazing, cats sleeping in the shade. Yes, it sounds delightful. Most of the time, it is. But there is a dark side to the pleasantness....a dark, sweaty side.
The grass is very green this year and is growing much better then the last few years. We will have hay this year in a fairly ready supply, something the horses worry about on a daily basis when they have nothing else to occupy their minds or when they are napping (yes, horses sometimes dream when they sleep). In the lean expensive times, the ponies get a little less hay then normal, cause for consternation when their breakfast doesn't last quite until dinner. Not that they are shorted in the grocery category by any stretch of the imagination. They just end up looking more like regular plump horses then 1200 pound ticks with fur and hooves. OK, so when the hay is cheap and plentiful, I tend to give a little more then I should. Sue me.
But green grass means mowing.....and mowing.........and mowing. Our farm is not fenced in around the perimeter so our guys can't mosey around the farm in herds eating as they will to keep the grass down. Besides that, horses only like the good grass, not the weeds. So even in their paddocks, we have to go in with the brush hog to cut down the weeds so the edible grass will grow. This year the farm is looking a bit wild and brushy since we haven't cut as much as we should. The diesel prices combined with time restraints have put a damper on the brush maintenance. Diesel prices go without saying as they are a harsh fact of life right now. But the time..well, let's say that cutting grass and brush on the farm is not as easy as just jumping on the lawnmower (though we do that, too).
We use a brush hog attached to a diesel tractor to cut most of our grass and weeds. It's not used every day, so we'll cut for a few days then change implements on the back of the tractor. To cut our brush down, it goes a little like this:
Take off whatever implement is on the back of the tractor. When lucky, this only requires a few kicks to each side of the implement to knock it off of the support arms that raise and lower the device. After removal, put hitch pins (they keep the implement from falling off the arms, like a cotter pin) BACK on the implement or in the toolbox on the tractor. Start tractor up, check fuel. See that there is almost no fuel, swear, go and get diesel can. Turn tractor off, open filler cap, pick up 6 gallon fuel container (weighing in at 42.9 pounds) (1 gallon US of diesel weighs 7.15 pounds) and climb 3 feet , swearing, onto tractor to access filler hole. Spill 1 quart of diesel all over engine and clothes before stream goes into filler hole or funnel. Swear more and more colorfully. Worry about spotaneously combusting. Finish filling and recap fuel tank. Put container away, go wash hands. Wash hands 5 times because diesel stink won't come off. Swear some more. Give up washing hands because the stink will wear off eventually.
Try to restart tractor. Hit starter on side of tractor with a hammer or big wrench because it won't start (mechanics have tried to fix this 4 times and continue to fail. Answer "it's a quirk of Ford tractors you have to deal with". Yes, we've tried new starters..) Catch finger between handle of hammer and protrusion on tractor. Swear. Suck on finger. Swear more when the diesel taste penetrates your numb brain and begin spitting out taste. Swear more.
Back up to brushhog. Pull forward because it's not lined up exactly. Repeat 10 times until arms of tractor are lined up with sides of brushhog swearing more loudly each time. Get out of seat and attempt to attach arms to implement. Realize that both are not quite lined up correctly, get back in tractor cursing colorfully and inventively. Look back at brushhog and notice a suspicious number of wasps flying around the hole in the top of the deck. Go into barn, get wasp spray, spray hole. Run around frantically, flapping arms and yelling as wasps fly out of hole. Stand 30 yards away waiting for wasps to go away and/or die. Walk back and kick side of brushhog. Stub to. Swear. Climb back on tractor. Go forward and pull back perfectly into place in one shot. Go figure. Swear for good measure. Kick arms onto brushhog, stubbing toe again. Swear. Look in toolbox for hitchpins. Realize there are none in the box, walk back to other implement, steal hitch pins. Prepare to mow. Get off tractor, walk back up to house to get hearing protection (with am/fm). Walk back to tractor and put on hearing protection. Turn around and walk back to house after realizing the batteries are dead in the "ears". Swear. Change batteries, turn on in house, walk back to tractor. Start tractor, pull forward, realize one front tire flat. Try to think of new expletives and use continuously while dialing tractor maintenence guy on cell phone (yup, speed dial). Leave message for him. Walk back to house, change clothes, wash hands 10 more times, make a Mojito in a LARGE juice glass. Sit down and watch the weather channel to see how tomorrow will be for mowing.......
Yup, farm life is definitely relaxing

Legends of a Fall...

An incident occurred this weekend which illustrates my comment about horses not having, what we consider, a great deal of intelligence. I was off the farm with my "Posse" (OK, the group of gals I instruct and whose horses I train on a regular basis) in South Jersey at a lovely new facility. Our objective: to attend a "Showmanship" and "Horsemanship" clinic to improve my students knowledge and expertise in these two events. "Showmanship" entails working with the horse on the ground in front of a Judge who is evaluating your ability to show the horse off to his best advantage. In pursuit of this, you must present the stationary horse in a precise way then walk and run (trot) with the horse in a pattern prescribed by the Judge. "Horsemanship" involves you riding the horse with the same general set of expectations except there is very little "stationary" work and the pattern is performed at a walk, trot and canter (a three beat gait similar to a gallop, just slower).

We were about 2/3rds of the way through the clinic. The day was cold and windy, the horses and riders were cold and had been sitting around for several hours. They were all standing in line facing the middle of the arena, side by side, listening to the person giving the clinic. One horse blew his nose when, in the blink of an eye, all Hell broke loose! Every horse in line, upon hearing the usually innocuous noise of one of their bretheren snorting, leaped forward at the same instant as if the starting bell of a race had gone off. Horses jumped forward, sideways and straight up in the air. Unfortunately, the horse that went straight up belonged, and was ridden by, one of my gals. And when he went up, he kept going. And going. My gal had pulled back hard as the horse lept forward, catching her horse by suprise and scaring him more then he already was. Flight or fight kicked in and since he couldn't go forward, or sideways or backwards (where the perceived threat was) he went up. Feeling the hard pull on his mouth, he fought upward to get away from both the pressure in his mouth and the monster behind him. His rider started to loose balance backwards, which caused him to loose balance backwards and the worse riding scenario occured......the horse went over backwards.

Horses can kill themselves when this happens. Fractured skull, broken back or broken leg, any of these can lead to the demise of a horse. So when a horse rears up and goes over for anything less dramatic then an actual mountain lion on his back....it shows he's not very bright. Most horses (all the rest of them for example) would just stop or move another foot or two forward, then stop. Perhaps spin around to look for the "danger". NOT flip over.

People are killed every year by this type of riding accident. Death usually occurs from a severe traumatic crush injury of the chest as the horse flips over on top of the rider. Horses ,when rearing, can reach a height of between 10 feet for a shorter horse to as much as 16 feet for a large horse. This is a large horse and when he is fully extended and rearing as high as he can go, he's at about the 14 foot mark. It's high, really high. Some horses flip straight over, going up so fast that as they reach the maximum height of the rear, their hind legs kick out from under them and they land flat on their back. My gal's horse reached maximum height then collapsed his hind legs, softening the fall somewhat and rolling down onto his side and not his back. Fortunately, the gal rolled one way and the horse rolled the other. That's not to say she wasn't hurt. She was able to sit up almost immediately though as she did, the color drained from her face and she became stark white. Upon reflection, that part of the incident was a bit interesting. There have been many things I've watched in my life, not all of them pleasant, but I had never actually seen the color flow away and out of someone's face as I looked on. Odd.
While I am a Paramedic, in New Jersey I am fairly powerless without a truck full of equipment and a partner (so sayeth New Jersey Law!) so I was very grateful when two nurses came over (how lucky we were that they were there, both riding in the clinic!) and cleared her C-spine and checked the rest of her body for other injuries. She was sore in many places, mostly her behind, but relatively unscathed from her brush with death. The clinic continued about 10 minutes after we settled my gal on the sidelines with ice on her behind and I mounted her horse to wait out the rest of the lecture.

You might think I was insensitive to get on this horse who had obviously suffered a traumatic event of his own. But we must look to the future and establish to this horse that rearing up and falling down are not answers to fear or problems. If allowed to go on his merry way, the next time he gets frightened and feels trapped, he may do the same thing for even less provocation. Startled+rearing&falling=no more work. Really bad equation! There were things I took into heavy consideration before I got on him. This horse did not hurt himself when he went down. When he got up, he was not distressed. He was not shifting about nervously or trying to get away. From previous experience with this horse, I know he can be a bully and look for ways out of work. So for this horse, it was essential to get on him and put him back to work so he knew that this behavior would not get him a break or a vacation. For him, the rest of the day was fine, without any incident. He won't be suffering any long-term effects of the day.

His rider....that will be another story. I worry that months of uncertainty, self doubt and low confidence levels will follow this accident. This is the kind of occurance that rocks you; a step too close to the edge for comfort. As years have accumulated behind me, I have become more and more aware of my own mortality. In my life, I have occasionally been reckless. I have held positions that have been both physically and mentally dangerous. In living this life, I have learned to cope with fear and learned from the mistakes I've walked away from and those I haven't. Cautiousness now prevails where bravado used to jump in with both feet. Not to say I'm never a bit brash. Somethings will still hit that old adrenaline button and I'll do something silly or stupid that when I look back I say "Whew, THAT could have been bad". But we learn from our experiences and when we're lucky, those experiences guide our hands even when our heads are not thinking totally clearly. The lifetime I've had so far has prepared me somewhat for the unexpected, the fearful, the painful and the tragic. Getting in a car accident for the first time at 40 is not the same as getting into one for the first time at 17. In mid-life, we are less resiliant both mentally and physically. In our 20's, we rebound. In our 50's, we regress. We have learned we are mortal...that we are closer to the final chapter then the first. And we don't want to hasten things! So we hesitate, evaluate, assess, and plan more thoroughly then we did when we were younger.
How will this experience effect my gal? We'll have to wait and see. But it will be my job to keep it from eating her up and restore the confidence she has lost.

Some beginning thoughts....

Today I embark on yet another way to spend time I don't have and pontificate on subjects some people already have strong opinions on. It's mostly about the horses, yet without all the accompanying tangents and pitstops, there would be no horses. Horses in this day and age cannot stand alone. With them come the trappings of daily life...drive to the feed store to get grain. Drive to the hay man to get hay. Have the Veterinarian drive to our farm to give vaccines and tend to sick horses. There was a time that we used horses to go get things. Now we use everything, including the internet, to get things for our horses.

My jobs are to make horses and their people better. The majority of people I run into think horses are big, if somewhat dim-witted, children. Talk to them in a calm voice and explain to them what you want and all things will be as they should be. The horse will listen, he will understand and you will both go walking into the sunset together in perfect harmony.
Unlike the dim-witted child (please refer to Bill Cosby discussing children and chocolate cake) horses will hurt you. They may not mean to do so, but in their 2 track mind, there is fight or flight when something scares them. Try calmly explaining to a horse that the Fire Truck with the lights and siren on heading towards him is going to a fire to help people and the driver surely will not run him over. By the time you get the first two words out (Now Pokey..) he will have left hoofprints on your chest and be in the next County. I understand that Fire Trucks ARE scary! But Pokey will sometimes have the same reaction upon seeing a plastic food bag heading his way on an errant breeze. Let there be no mistake....horses are not the rocket scientists of the animal kingdom! Really now...how much intelligence does it take to sneak up on a blade of grass?
While horses are not cognitive geniuses, they do offer us unique insight and wisdom which we are sometimes sorely lacking. With luck, I'll impart some of these (along with some ideas of my own).