Ups and Downs

This week has been a real mix of emotions for me. To begin with, Hillary has been given the all clear to go out in a small field. This felt like a real milestone for me, and I was excited to let her out. She behaved impeccably as you can see from the picture; it seemed she was content enough to just stand in the fresh air and eat. However, the skin on the leg (which was shaved for the ultra sound scan) is very pink, and the mud seemed straight away to make it look red and angry. For this reason then, she hasn't been out in the field for fear of getting mud rash.
To add to this, the weather has not lent itself to me being able to ride, and I feel that rather than me rushing back into the saddle (which could tempt my anxiety to return), I'd rather wait until I feel secure. So we continued walking. The problem is though, that it's incredibly hard to feel secure when there is no one there by your side to help (for me, that is anyway.) I'd spent so much of last year recovering and becoming more and more confident, and although riding is something of a desperation at the moment, I do still get very anxious.

And so, with frustration over the weather, and Hillary's leg- keep as dry as possible-cold hose when hot?? and the desperation to ride, and also a tiring full week of work I have felt a whirl wind of emotions. Having never owned a horse before, its hard for me to know what to do. I try and think sensibly about things, but its   hard to know what I'm meant to do. I've no experience behind me, and even people around me say things that are different and that contradict each other. But most of the issues of this week have come from the feeling of dread, of feeling the anxiety come sneaking back. This time I recognise it, and the knowledge of it makes me feel terrible. My partner Ric tells me that I can get through it again should it ever get back to that, but it isn't as simple as that as it tested me so much. Not just the inability to ride and the associated guilt of that, but also the embarrassment of trying to explain to others the reasons why; the illogical but yet so controlling ideas. This all grew into a point where last night I cried from sheer frustration. I don't want to fail. I want to be positive and learning and improving like I was before the accident. As Ric would say, my moods depend very much on whether I'm riding, and though its not a conscious thing for me, I do feel like my world is right when I'm able to ride.

So, I decided today (5.5.12) would be the day to ride providing the weather was fine. I had the vet early this morning and so managed to get the farm jobs done before the vet arrived. The vet is impressed with the improvement in the shape of the leg as there is much less swelling. Also, he says that her weight, which is obviously a constant issue with me, is pretty much 'spot on'. She had her adequan injection (3/7) and behaved brilliantly. I went home to do some jobs, then back up early afternoon to ride.

Luckily Ric agreed to come with me. Normally he hates the farm and will avoid it where possible, but today he agreed to help me whilst I rode. I gave Hills a quick brush, and tacked up, making sure I tried to stay calm throughout. Finally, I got on, whilst Hills was held in place by my friend Cheryl. I tried not to think about the nerves; they were being over taken by excitement anyway, and after ten minutes of riding in walk, I didn't want to dismount. Ric walked with me, keeping at Hillary's head, and I talked to him constantly. I felt amazing- no anxiety, just a rush of brilliance knowing I was riding Hills again. Needless to say, she had the biggest apple I could find as a treat afterwards.

I feel refreshed in energy after today. Its easy to get bogged down with the negatives and the frustrations, but  its the moments, however fleeting, of positivity that turn it around. Yesterday I was in tears; tonight I'm smiling. I hope more than anything, that she continues to improve, and we can continue to ride.

So, here we are, it's nearly the end of April, what a time it's been. This is an update on Hillary's progress as the second scan (after the adequan injections) took place today.

As you may know, the original scan showed a few dark areas which were areas of damage. The adequan's job (injected every five days for a total of seven times) was to boost her recovery.

I was quietly excited about the results of the second scan; Hillary has been walking out great, and we have hardly experienced any heat in the leg at all. She is still on pain killers, but only a little bit per day, and after today this will be dropping again. Hills seems happy to be out, wanting to walk out and when on her walks, seems very interested in what's going on around her, especially the fact that lots of new grass is growing, ready to be nibbled. I know it's been said before, but I'm so proud of how she's coped with the whole thing. She truly is an amazing animal.

So, today. The vet came and watched her trot up to check for lameness. As the weather was awful (rain and high winds), it was no surprise that she was a little over excited, but she behaved well and the vet was able to assess her movement.

During a scan, the area to be scanned has to be clipped to allow adequate conduction for the ultra sound. Hillary, in some point in her life, must have had a bad experience with the clippers, and so for both scans, she has had to be sedated. It's an odd thing to watch, but knowing that the vet is on hand makes me feel better about it.

The scan showed that Hillary still has some damage, so much so that a second course of Adequan has been started. However, the tendon that has been repairing seems fine and the vet is pleased. The course of treatment is the same as before: an injection every five days for a total of 7 injections. However, this time, I've been told I can ride for twenty minutes at walk, and also she can go out in a small paddock. This news is brilliant; Hills will be able to be a horse again, and I'll be able to start re-building the ridden bond we had.

I can't deny that I'm frustrated- I just want her better. I have cried, I'll be honest. But the more important thing is that we're heading in the right direction, and in a small way, the hard work is paying off. I have to put the plans for 2012 into getting her right and making sure that she is happy. And I know that even if it was 90 weeks of walking in hand, I'd still do it without fail, for her.

Sometimes, we have it all and care nothing for it, but sometimes all we have is tomorrow, and it becomes tomorrow that matters. I know that as long as Hillary and I have tomorrow, everything else is a bonus.

Two months on...

Apologies for the vagueness of this picture- it is Hillary having the first roll in the field in seven weeks and two days! It therefore seemed appropriate, as it represents the small moment of happiness she has experienced in a huge amount of time.

It was decided that Hillary needed a medicinal boost, as it appeared her body wasn't producing the elements it needed to heal the damaged tendon. She therefore went on a course of  'adequan;' an injection every five days. Throughout the whole process I have thought myself so lucky to have such an accepting wonderful horse, and in this sense I have continued to be blown away by her impeccable behaviour and trust in humans.

She took every injection with merely a flinch, and on the fifth injection, it was suggested she could be turned out in the field for thirty minutes. I watched her every move in the field, and I almost cried with pure happiness after seeing how happy she was. After several rolls, she proceeded to throw herself around like a foal would; she was shaking too, not sure what to do after such a long time in.

After thirty minutes she came in; I checked the leg to find minimal swelling and no heat. I went home that evening elated, hoping that riding was a short distance away.

The next morning, there was heat in the leg.

The vet (who appears to recognise my voice now), suggested 24 hours box rest, followed by walking. I did as instructed. Utterly disappointed.

Hills has finally finished the course of injections, and we are having a scan in 12 days now. I am advised not to turn her out again; she could damage the new bits of tendon she is forming.

As for now though, I want to stress that even though 2012 was meant to be our year, what means more is making sure she is happy and healthy; after all that is what she deserves. This year, I WILL ensure that she gets better and fitter, and maybe 2012 will be special after all- I get to strengthen my bond with my best friend.

My Miracle

It's been three weeks after Hillary's accident, and for me, it's been incredibly stressful. I suppose many horse people are like me; when not riding they are just simply not happy. For me, riding Hillary is the most important thing in the world. It feels like complete freedom and happiness. If I could describe what it means to be truly happy, I would say 'being on the back of Hillary.' And so, not being able to ride is like a constant wave of being unhappy; just not happy.

Today, (29.02.12) Hills had her scan to see the damage to her leg. This involved the clipping of both her back  legs (which is why they look so odd in the above photo). I tried to have Hillary clipped once, but this ended in disaster; Hills cannot be clipped without sedation. When she cannot move back to get away from the clippers, she begins to rear. I have been told that before I bought her, she had been clipped, however, her fear is so severe, I have no intention of putting her through it. Our riding and work schedule before the accident was such that, after each ride, she would be cooled down properly before I went home. This omitted the need for clipping, and although I often look at other horses, neat and tidy in this season, and wish Hills was clipped, I know that in reality, it's such a stressful thing to do to her, that for me, it's just not worth it. We work round ensuring that she does not get too hot in her work, and that she always is cooled down properly. Clipping, therefore, something that has simply become an irrelevant point for me.

So when the vet got the clippers from his car, I knew she would have to be sedated.

I have seen one sedated horse, but the thought of Hillary being sedated was, I admit, quite scary. The sedation worked almost immediately; her head drooped and she began to breathe really heavily. Everything that she did: trembling, dribbling, wobbling- I mentioned to the vet. This is all normal, and all the time, I whispered to her, standing by her head, making sure she was OK.

The scanning equipment is a hugely expensive piece of portable equipment, and the vet was very informative when using it. It was fascinating to think that in some way, I have seen Hillary's tendons; I have seen the lines of her bones, and her ligaments; I have seen something I would never normally get chance to see.

Hillary does have some damage to her tendons, and needs another scan in four weeks time. However, the severity of her accident makes her survival and progress, nothing short of remarkable; she is indeed, something of a miracle. It is only after the second scan that I will find out if she can go in the field (something I feel very strongly about as Hillary really values her time being 'natural'), but I am able to ride now, at walk, for the next four weeks. The thought of riding her without lunging, and without her having been out for such a long time does make me feel worried, as I am still in many ways dealing with my problems, but I am determined to make this work. Despite the fear and worry, I am desperate to ride her again, and so I need to try and give it a go. But more than that, more than riding, or turn out, or injuries or problems, above all that we have been through in the last few weeks, I feel nothing short of brilliant. I still have my best friend, and I cannot believe that I am so lucky to be able to have her as my own.

Road to recovery Part 1

Hillary is beginning to recover well. After the initial accident, her x-rays came back clear, and so the next milestone is the scan, which should take place next week sometime. The vet, who has been three times now, is extremely impressed with her progress. It's strange to think that I very nearly lost her, and in fact, I haven't yet come to terms with it. 

To non-horsey people, the way I feel about Hills may seem bizarre, but to me, she is like my child. I don't have children, and as yet, don't want any. I don't feel responsible for Hillary (although I know I am), I feel more as though I would do anything for her because I love her and couldn't imagine not having her in my life. If she hadn't reacted to her leg getting caught in the gate calmly, she probably wouldn't be here right now. I am so so grateful that she reacted so calmly, and that there were people around to help her. I am grateful to everyone that helped her that evening, and am trying to thank everyone that either helped her directly, or who have sent her get well messages. To many, this may seem strange, but to me, my whole world has been turned  upside down. 

The vet has been this morning (18.2.12), and is amazed by how well she is doing. The bandage has been removed from the much thicker green one, to a much lighter red one:

There is much less swelling than expected (some around the coffin joint and pastern) but everything seems unbelievably well. Hills in herself is bright and when I take her out on her little walks (to stop her stiffening up), she is forward and wanting to move about. The vet tells me that although her still being here is a miracle, and her progress is remarkable, there is still likely to be some damage. It's hard to be realistic for me.

I wanted to spend my few days off riding, and was so excited when the snow melted. I can't believe what has happened to her, and despite part of me feeling that so much has befallen her recently, I do feel quite positive. I can't wait for her rehabilitation to start, and to get her back working. Sometimes, things are sent to try us, and life suddenly becomes hard. I have hardly slept this week and when I have slept, I have been plagued by nightmares. But despite all the uncertainty and worry, I still have Hillary, and the prognosis is good. So for all the times she has been brave, and looked after me, I now will look after her, and I only hope I can give what she gave to me.

A Lucky Escape

My absolute nightmare happened yesterday (14.2.12). After a lovely Valentine's day, Ric (my partner) received a message via facebook, asking me to ring the farm urgently. My mobile had died some hours before, and as most days I barely use my phone, I didn't worry about it. Using Ric's phone, we rang the farm. The news was frightening to any horse owner- Hillary had got herself caught in the gate in a freak accident. The gate had been removed but they had called the vet in the emergency, and Hills had undergone some x-rays. The worst part of this was, was that I had drunk a few glasses of wine by this time and was not legal to drive. Panicking, I phoned my mother, but could not get in touch with her. I then phoned a taxi. There was no way I wasn't getting to the farm.

Eventually I got in touch with my mother and one taxi ride, followed by a ride in my mother's Land Rover later, I arrived at the farm. Hillary was eating (a good sign) but could barely bear any weight on her leg. She'd been given a huge shot of pain killers, and kept fidgeting with the bandaged back leg, picking it up and putting it down. Her x-rays had come out clear, although the vet couldn't definately rule out a hair-line fracture. Everything had happened while I wasn't there; while I had been playing pool in our local pub, laughing and joking, totally unaware. I felt angry with myself for not being there for her.

That night (last night) I did not sleep a wink, worrying about her.

This morning, I waited for the vet to call to tell me when he'd be visiting again. I went into work for a couple of hours, despite being off on holiday) to take my mind off it, but it didn't work. By the time the vet finally arrived, I couldn't focus on anything else- I'd been mindlessly brushing Hillary for about an hour already.

The vet arrived, and was very helpful. He watched her walk out of her stable, and the prognosis seems positive. Hillary is lucky to be still with us; she is the luckiest outcome of a very unlucky situation. She needs to be given painkillers for the foreseeable future, and also for the time being, any form of exercise that falls beyond a 2 minute walk is strictly forbidden. She is due a scan late next week to assess more finely, whether there is any other damage.

I am gutted. More for her than for me, but I really wanted to continue riding. I feel like there is a lot befalling her at the moment, and I don't for a second believe she deserves it. I am so unbelievably thankful for the people that rescued her, and indeed for the fact that she is still here, but for the time being, my saddle will sit firmly over the back of the sofa, than over the back of my horse.
Thank you to all those involved in helping us last night. From the bottom of my heart.

Get well soon my Sunshine x x x

Snow.

It is February and snow has come. Luckily, unlike the two previous years, I have been able to get to the farm without having to rely upon my parents. Their Land Rover is so valuable, but I hate having to take up their time. But, there is still time yet...

Hillary has been very calm this time round. Usually, she likes to run around, and throw in a few bucks, spraying snow everywhere, but this time, she has seemed much more relaxed, more interested in food than in using up a bit of energy. She still waits stock still while I change her rugs, and then walks quickly down to the field or menage snorting, wanting to be out and to stretch her legs. Once loose though, she barely moves; two rolls is the most active I've seen her since the snow.

I worry about the ice. Our yard has been gritted, but everywhere is slippery at the moment, and that along with the dark evenings, make me question turning Hills out. Tonight, I turned her out in the field whilst doing her jobs. When the light began to fade, I decided to bring her in. As I turned to close the gate, her back leg slipped on some ice, and she almost sat down. Luckily, she righted herself immediately, but then proceeded to walk quickly back to her stable, expecting her tea. I don't know how much she can see, and so the fact that there is ice on the ground worries me. She doesn't seem to think twice about it, and ploughs on regardless. I wish that I could stop thinking about her eyes; I wish that I didn't know in a way, because then it wouldn't make me think about and analyse everything I  do all the time. I want to look forward and hope again.

I can't wait for the snow to go. I want to get out her saddle and bridle, and ride again. I aim to ride as much as I can for as long as I can, and every day this snow continues is a day less for my aim. I have stopped being angry now, and have become more accepting, more comfortable with her condition and my lack of options. It seems that other things too, have decided to play on my mind, and at the moment, I am a whirlwind of worry.  But in her ignorance, Hills at least is happy, and if I'm honest, that alone makes life worth living.