Horseback riding is an art. Sure, in a Gymkhana, its a rather intense activity which blends speed and skill. As one, your horse and you swivel and swerve through obstacles while precious seconds go by. When jumping an obstacle course, timing and synchronization permit you to glide through the air, almost flying as you take off and land. Your skill and experience protects you from banal errors and injuries.
When your horse is green, you’ll spend countless hours training him, desensitizing him, so that he can perform under any circumstances. Trust will derive from this precious time, trust that can’t be allotted lightly as a fall can injure you permanently when landing hard on hazardous ground.
A friend had bought this really awesome horse and wanted me to try it out on Christmas Eve one year. You probably wonder what this has to do with it but just wait a touch!
That day, I hung my common sense by the door; I put on my snow pants instead of my chaps because it was so very cold, and went to ride the horse.
My children were bringing a Christmas tree out of the forest, singing and joking, when, suddenly, this wonderful new horse spotted them coming out of the forest, was startled by the noise and voices, spooked and took off galloping into the bush at full speed. To avoid being impaled by the frozen branches, I crouched low, losing my balance and my grip because of the nylon snow pants and flew off, hitting the frozen ground with a crack and a thump! A couple of fractured vertebras and a broken pelvis resulted from the accident.
Yes, I’ve mentioned parts of this story before. However, I wish to dwell on the injury and phases of recovery in the hope of reaching out to all those who have sustained an injury that immobilized them for an extended period of time. Despite the fact that the duration of my disability was only six months, which I’m aware is far less some, the recovery process applies to shorter or longer periods of time. Once recognize, the mental state of mind needed to overcome can be triggered and sustained. When recovery cannot be considered, the acceptance of new limits can be the path to contentment.
Let’s go back to my story!
After returning home from the hospital, first, I agonized when thinking of how I’d be when I recovered. The accident occurred the day before Christmas and I returned home some days later. My sons and daughter carried me around in a cuddly, cushiony chair in the moments that I could sit for a while. Thanks to their humor and encouragement, I learned to take a day at the time.
After a few weeks, being determined to walk again, once my physician told me that I could move without injuring my spine, I started training.
My living room turned into a mini gym. My arms needed to become substantially stronger first to raise my body and slide into a wheel chair, later to support myself on a walker and learn to walk again.
Months went by while I scheduled myself to build resistance and muscles during a minimum of 3 hours a day. At the three month line, I was at 5 hours a day. By then I had reflected on the possibility of working in a wheel chair, with an adapted vehicle and had considered all my options.
My life would be different but I could do this. Immensely supported by my family, I still remember the tears of joy experience when, like a baby, I managed my first step without support.
My daughter, standing before me, arms stretched out ready to catch me, encouraged me with < You can do it, I know you can! > Three steps that day and exhausted, I took courage and pursued!
Six months later, against most odds, I could do most of my usual activities. Two years later, I was back on track. Patience, will power, determination and resilience were the key. My family’s support was the essence of the motivation.
I remember waking up to pain, dragging myself out of bed and wishing I could just stop and go back to what is was like before the pain. Gradually, realizing that pain equaled gain, I learned to welcome it, feeling alive and pacing myself through efforts until I reached the next goal set. Baby steps, a walk across the kitchen, then through the living room and back. Outside, my son, his sense of humor always lightening the mood, had named my attempts Cross-Country Expedition. First, from the house to the car, then to the garage and back, I felt that a staircase was the Everest and learned to joke about it. Everyday was a conquest. Every morning was a new beginning.
When the pain finally subsided, I almost missed its spur! Let me tell you, you can never appreciate well being and mobility enough! In the end, nurtured by my wonderful family, I moved on.
We never get back to what we were. Possibly, we become better, stronger and more efficient. We are also different. Values have become more defined, life priorities more transparent. You discover facets of yourself you didn’t even know existed. Vivid fears have been acknowledged, weighed and overcome. Some limits have been surpasses.
The possibilities within the impossibilities have been explored. You become aware of other limits, learn to live and accept them and go beyond expectation to reach your full newly discovered potential. You change for the better, I find.
So never give up or accept to be diminished. Go as far as you can with all the new possibilities discovered. Embrace the change and you will soar beyond what you now dream possible.
Have a nice week. Happy Trails,
Elizabeth McNally
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