Today has not been a good day.
It started innocently enough. Got my radiology reports from the hospital - - they do not show a break, thank god. Went to the chiropractor, and then to lunch at Morton's. I think getting my radiology reports was the highlight, because it all went downhill from there...
Lunch was supposed to be relaxing, except that it wasn't. Then the three of us went to Wal-mart (the husband) for cat and dog food, and to Ulta (daughter and myself) for a birthday present. Except that the daughter refused to shop for a birthday present for someone she claims to have not seen in a "year or more." So I asked her to find something she would like, and the only thing she came up with was orange and black nail polish. All of my finding things resulted in the same response - - "I don't know." I finally got sick of it and walked to Wal-mart, unassisted, to buy what she wanted - - a gift card. Which led to my getting yelled at by the husband in Wal-mart for walking there and getting card, which led to my walking out. The entire way home I kept telling both of them I was tired, and needed to get into bed and relax.
Of course as soon as we got home, the television in the bedroom got turned on so there was no sleeping and relaxing involved. I ended up trying to sleep in my brother's room, which was cold. Every time I went into the master bedroom there they were - - husband in his chair, child in my bed, watching tv or on the internet. Not once did I ever get to get in the bed. Its not 6pm and they are still upstairs where they want to be, but the person who has the concussion and needs to be resting is down in the basement, cleaning up after the cats and shaking with rage.
I'm tired of being asked what I want for Christmas. I want to get better. I want to be able to see. I want to be able to drive. I want a new horse. I want to be able to take care of my parents and to put away all the crap that is sitting in the basement that needs to be put away. I want to get away when I need to. I want things to be back to the way they were. That's all I want.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Sitting at Home
I have been told that this is now day 23 since my accident.
I don't remember what happened. I remember having Buzz brought out on Saturday, November 20th - - the Saturday before Thanksgiving I remember riding Buzz on Saturday, and Sydney choosing not to ride him. It was a good ride. We worked through some things, and cantered him in the lower arena with Laura watching and helping as needed.
I don't remember much of Sunday. I remember going to the barn. I remember parts of grooming him. I don't remember at all getting on him and riding. What I have been told is that Clapton and Icer were turned out in the paddock next to the covered arena. That at some point they started acting up, whether it was in response to Buzz or something else, I will never know. I hate asking Sydney what happened. But I do know she called 911, and I woke up in the hospital. My clothes were cut off of me and my helmet was destroyed.
I don't blame Buzz. I don't blame the other horses. And I certainly don't put the blame on myself. I don't know what happened and I never will. People who blame me or the horse for the accident were not there. I stayed on until Buzz settled down, and then came off. Please don't tell me what I should have or should not have done. You weren't there. I chose not to lunge him based on his behavior the day before. I have a decent seat. I'm a good rider. Second guessing me isn't helping me.
Sydney rode Buzz. She had some good lessons on him. Nicky rode Buzz. She said she had a good ride on him. Again, I don't blame Buzz. I don't blame myself. Hopefully he will still be available when I am ready to ride again. I liked him. A lot. With Riley, I had gotten used to not necessarily always using a helmet. I will always wear a helmet in the future. Always.
Now for the recuperating part. As I said, supposedly this is day 23 since my accident. I remember waking up at Atlanta Medical Center. I remember Laura coming in to see me. I remember going to the barn and seeing (or trying to see) Sydney ride. I don't really remember Thanksgiving. I know I've been to have x-rays, MRIs, CTs, EKG, etc. I know that there is a bleed that shows up on the scans. I know I have a concussion at the least. I know that it is going to take time to get better. I know I can type. But what I want and what I know are two very different things. I want to be healed. I want to go get my car. I want to go back to work.
Its hard, being at home. We moved back to Dunwoody because my father asked us to. My mother had broken her pelvis, my parents were both nearing 80, and they needed someone to move in with them. My sister wasn't available, and having three kids here would have driven my father crazy. So after a long discussion and talk, Steve and I made the choice. It hasn't been easy. I guess my father thought that after 18 years together, 14 1/2 of them married, that we would move in with nothing except the clothes on our backs. My father wants us here, likes having us here, except when he's sober, which makes him unhappy and bitter. Then he makes stupid comments that drive us insane. He doesn't do well with change, and we have to accept that. But his inflexibility makes it very hard for us. That and my not being able to work.
I'm ready for the healing to be over. I'm ready to be able to see one image. I'm ready to be able to walk like I used to - - without holding on to anything. I'm ready for the bleed to heal, for my being able to drive, to go back to work. I know I'm not cleared until January 2nd, but I'm hoping that it doesn't take that long. People have said that it takes 6 weeks for a concussion to heal. I'm tired of spending the day in bed. I'm tired of feeling tired.
I'm ready. Really. I'm ready.
I don't remember what happened. I remember having Buzz brought out on Saturday, November 20th - - the Saturday before Thanksgiving I remember riding Buzz on Saturday, and Sydney choosing not to ride him. It was a good ride. We worked through some things, and cantered him in the lower arena with Laura watching and helping as needed.
I don't remember much of Sunday. I remember going to the barn. I remember parts of grooming him. I don't remember at all getting on him and riding. What I have been told is that Clapton and Icer were turned out in the paddock next to the covered arena. That at some point they started acting up, whether it was in response to Buzz or something else, I will never know. I hate asking Sydney what happened. But I do know she called 911, and I woke up in the hospital. My clothes were cut off of me and my helmet was destroyed.
I don't blame Buzz. I don't blame the other horses. And I certainly don't put the blame on myself. I don't know what happened and I never will. People who blame me or the horse for the accident were not there. I stayed on until Buzz settled down, and then came off. Please don't tell me what I should have or should not have done. You weren't there. I chose not to lunge him based on his behavior the day before. I have a decent seat. I'm a good rider. Second guessing me isn't helping me.
Sydney rode Buzz. She had some good lessons on him. Nicky rode Buzz. She said she had a good ride on him. Again, I don't blame Buzz. I don't blame myself. Hopefully he will still be available when I am ready to ride again. I liked him. A lot. With Riley, I had gotten used to not necessarily always using a helmet. I will always wear a helmet in the future. Always.
Now for the recuperating part. As I said, supposedly this is day 23 since my accident. I remember waking up at Atlanta Medical Center. I remember Laura coming in to see me. I remember going to the barn and seeing (or trying to see) Sydney ride. I don't really remember Thanksgiving. I know I've been to have x-rays, MRIs, CTs, EKG, etc. I know that there is a bleed that shows up on the scans. I know I have a concussion at the least. I know that it is going to take time to get better. I know I can type. But what I want and what I know are two very different things. I want to be healed. I want to go get my car. I want to go back to work.
Its hard, being at home. We moved back to Dunwoody because my father asked us to. My mother had broken her pelvis, my parents were both nearing 80, and they needed someone to move in with them. My sister wasn't available, and having three kids here would have driven my father crazy. So after a long discussion and talk, Steve and I made the choice. It hasn't been easy. I guess my father thought that after 18 years together, 14 1/2 of them married, that we would move in with nothing except the clothes on our backs. My father wants us here, likes having us here, except when he's sober, which makes him unhappy and bitter. Then he makes stupid comments that drive us insane. He doesn't do well with change, and we have to accept that. But his inflexibility makes it very hard for us. That and my not being able to work.
I'm ready for the healing to be over. I'm ready to be able to see one image. I'm ready to be able to walk like I used to - - without holding on to anything. I'm ready for the bleed to heal, for my being able to drive, to go back to work. I know I'm not cleared until January 2nd, but I'm hoping that it doesn't take that long. People have said that it takes 6 weeks for a concussion to heal. I'm tired of spending the day in bed. I'm tired of feeling tired.
I'm ready. Really. I'm ready.
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